"Historians and essayists delight in flattering the self-opinion of their contemporaries by extraordinary anecdotes of popular delusion in less enlightened times. A kind of indefinite satisfaction appears to be derived from contrasting the inferiority of previous generations. The confidence with which for many years together 5,000,000 English Protestants believed themselves in bodily peril from 100,000 Catholics is a favourite instance of the kind. The 'loss of our eleven days' is another; when, upon a simple correction of the calendar, grave divines actually lectured from the pulpit on the blasphemous wickedness of interfering with the course of time, and denounced the profanity which brought every sinner in the kingdom nearly a fortnight closer to his end. Mr. Macaulay, too, informs us that the post when first established was the object of violent invective, as a manifest contrivance of the Pope to enslave the souls of Englishmen; and most books of history or anecdote will supply stories equally notable. But we really very much doubt whether any tale of ancient times can match the exhibition of credulity which occurred in our own country, and under our own eyes, within these last twelve months. "We need not enter upon any narrative. Every reader's recollection will carry him back to last Christmas, when, from one end of the kingdom to the other, there was a loud and steady outcry against a projected 'desecration of the Sabbath.' Mr. Rowland Hill was introducing 'Sunday labour' into this decorous and religious country. He had succeeded in inserting 'the small end of the wedge.' He had asked for twenty-five additional clerks on Sunday, and a few months would see this pressed labour indefinitely multiplied, and all ideas of Sabbath observance contemptuously forsworn. Such was the belief even amongst intelligent people. Meetings were held in all great towns to record a protest against the iniquity; and, when the resistance proved unsuccessful, it was plainly asserted that the national character was for ever gone. As for the promoter of the measure, he was a forsaken reprobate, who looked only to the acceleration of day-mails, without the smallest heed to the fourth commandment. We have before us at this moment a sheet of letter-paper, headed by an engraving of 'Rowland Hill's new Chapel, St. Martin's-le-Grand, under which title is depicted the General Post Office on a Sunday morning, with all the symbols of unholy industry and bustle. However, the measure in question was carried out, and we will now--from the official returns on the subject--inform the reader in plain unadorned language how it originated, what it contemplated, and what it has actually brought to pass.