Yet, with all this considerate device, the ungrateful wretches still whined for their beer and bread and bacon, the dietary of their forefathers. And the editor of a certain “diabolical” publication persisted in telling them that they ought to have it, and they could have it; for, at the time that the ordinary Wiltshire fare was _1¼ pound of bread and a halfpenny_ per day, he was giving to his own labourers, at Barn Elm, 1 lb. of meat or bacon, 1½ lb. of flour, besides cheese and beer, per day; and three shillings a week in money. And there was so much wanton cruelty and insolence, under the poor-relief system of those days. Gangs of labourers would be set to work, the leader having a bell round his neck; men were set to _draw_ carts, like so many convicts, instead of using wheel-barrows; and, when there was no immediate work on hand, you might see one carrying a heavy stone up and down; or digging a hole in the ground one day, and filling it up again the next. How all this went on, in England, for ten or twelve years, scarce half a century ago, is past comprehending. It is, however, a fact, that people could not only permit it, but permit it without shame; and could venture to call those persons “diabolical villains,” who blushed for the country which proclaimed itself “the envy of surrounding nations.” Those who blushed for their country: those who spent their lives in the endeavour to arrest the hand of her oppressors: justly scorned the pleas of submission and contentment, put forth by many well-meaning persons in the shape of “religious” tracts. The man before us (one of that class who practise a good deal more than they preach; who act righteously before they inculcate righteousness on the part of others) could only see, in these precious handbills, inducements to submit to social degradation. But, in truth, acute suffering on the part of the labouring-classes was teaching them as much as Mr. Cobbett, or any one else, could do. To see the name of some fat pluralist on the title-page of a tract against “repining;” to listen to advice and exhortation, based on the comforting prospects of another and better world, on the part of men who were themselves making sure of this one; to see the names of the committees and promoters of this officious piety, and find that they were, in many instances, the names of those who had given a helping-hand to repression; and who continued to inculcate passive obedience, and the extreme naughtiness of the poor wretches in wanting to know something about the real causes of their misery, was too much for millions of the unprivileged and unendowed. They could see, plainly enough, who were the real Sowers of the Wind. And, perhaps, the Church of England has come to see, for herself, how we have reaped a whirlwind of religious indifference; in spite of “revivals,” and “restorations,” and “extensions,” and “functions,” and potterings without number.[3] * * * * *