Mr. Daniel Eaton, a small bookseller, and an old offender against established opinion, had recently stood in the pillory for an hour,--that being part of his punishment for selling Paine’s “Age of Reason.” There was much public sympathy with him, the populace actually trying to serve him with “refreshments.” Cobbett had formed pretty strong opinions concerning this degrading punishment, but very much stronger ones concerning the Attorney-General as a prosecutor; and that learned gentleman having foreboded the “consequences, dreadful in the extreme,” which must follow if Paine’s religious principles were suffered to take root, Mr. Cobbett suggested that there would be no better way of averting these consequences than by an answer to the book. “And have we 20,000 clergymen, and will no one of them attempt to give us this answer?” he said. He would call upon his own spiritual pastor, the Rector of Botley, the Rev. Richard Baker. Mr. Baker consented to undertake the task, but almost immediately withdrew the offer; upon which, Mr. Cobbett reminded him of his ordination vows, and generally played with him, in his own manner, making the poor parson look rather ridiculous. So, upon his return home, Mr. Cobbett was not welcomed by his spiritual adviser; who even went so far as to refuse the keys of the belfry to those persons who, just then, were so desirous of adding all they could to the clamour of rejoicing. The Rev. Mr. Baker is a character, in his way. There are some sad stories of him in Cobbett’s _Register_, which the reader may discover, if his tastes lie in that direction. How he was horsewhipped in the public street,--how he actually professed disbelief in Revelation, while declining to meet the consequences of a public admission of the same,--how he cheated at market, and so on.[1] There were many such characters in the Church in those deadened days, who, when they entered into the lively election contests of the time, would lead the way of violence. Your political parson could be a famous “rough,” when opportunity served. So Mr. Cobbett had made another set of enemies--the very set, too, who, if they had given themselves a moment’s opportunity for consideration, would have discovered that he, of all public men, was the one who could serve their cause the best. Instead of that, numbers of the clergy started up as anti-Cobbettites, writing useless tracts on “disaffection,” or meeting him at public gatherings, and trying to shout him down. And this sort of thing lasted as long as Cobbett lived; the clergy never made friends with him again; there were far too many idle shepherds, who thought their interest must suffer if a misguided populace had all that it asked; and who, consequently, resisted Reform with all their might and main. * * * * * The country squires were dreading, too, the possible effects of Mr. Cobbett’s vigorous writings.