till a deep and a fierce one, that they haven't got what
they call their rights. If you were to raise the wages of every man
in this country from nine to twelve shillings a-week to-morrow, you
wouldn't satisfy them; at least, the only ones whom you would
satisfy would be the mere hogs among them, who, as long as they can
get a full stomach, care for nothing else.'

'What, in Heaven's name, do they want?' asked Lancelot.

'They hardly know yet, sir; but they know well what they don't want.
The question with them, sir, believe me, is not so much, How shall
we get better fed and better housed, but whom shall we depend upon
for our food and for our house? Why should we depend on the will
and fancy of any man for our rights? They are asking ugly questions
among themselves, sir, about what those two words, rent and taxes,
mean, and about what that same strange word, freedom, means. Eight
or wrong, they've got the thought into their heads, and it's growing
there, and they will find an answer for it. Depend upon it, sir, I
tell you a truth, and they expect a change. You will hear them talk
of it to-night, sir, if you've luck.'

'We all expect a change, for that matter,' said Lancelot. 'That
feeling is common to all classes and parties just now.'

Tregarva took off his hat.

'"For the word of the Lord hath spoken it." Do you know, sir, I
long at times that I did agree with those Chartists? If I did, I'd
turn lecturer to-morrow. How a man could speak out then! If he saw
any door of hope, any way of salvation for these poor fellows, even
if it was nothing better than salvation by Act of Parliament!'

'But why don't you trust the truly worthy among the clergy and the
gentry to leaven their own ranks and bring all right in time?'

'Because, sir, they seem to be going the way only to make things
worse. The people have been so dependent on them heretofore, that
they have become thorough beggars. You can have no knowledge, sir,
of the whining, canting, deceit, and lies which those poor miserable
labourers' wives palm on charitable ladies. If they weren't angels,
some of them, they'd lock up their purses and never give away
another farthing. And, sir, these free-schools, and these penny-
clubs, and clothing clubs, and these heaps of money which are given
away, all make the matter worse and worse. They make the labourer
fancy that he is not to depend upon God and his own right hand, bu