should, perhaps, never pass there again, can it be wondered at that
farmers, to whom this triumph must prove a great annual gain, are
Rebeccaites _to the backbone_, and to a man? I fear they must be more
than man, not to cry secretly to this levelling lady "God speed!" And
this leads me to more serious reflection on the incomprehensible and
fatal conduct of the local authorities _in the first instance_, in not
_instantly_ re-erecting the toll-gates, or fixing chains _pro tempore_,
protecting at whatever expense some persons to demand compliance with
the laws, that not for a week, a day, an hour, the disgraceful and
dangerous spectacle should be exhibited, of authority completely
down-trodden, law successfully defied. Surely the first step in
vindication of the dignity of legal supremacy could not be difficult. By
day, at least, surely a constabulary force might have compelled
obedience. A few military at _first_, stationed near the gates, would
have awed rustic rebels. It is the _impunity_ which this unheard-of
palsy of the governing strong hand so long ensured to them, which has
fostered riot into rebellion, and rebellion into incendiarism and
murder. Is it possible for a thinking man to see these poor and (truth
to tell) most money-loving people, saving two or three shillings every
time they drive their team to market or lime, by the prostration of a
gate, and be at a loss to discover the secret of this midnight work
spreading like wildfire? Why, every transit which a farmer makes cost
free, is a spur to his avarice, a tribute of submission to his lawless
will, a temptation to his ignorant impatience of _all_ payments to try
his hand against all. The quiet acquiescence in refusal to pay--the
vanishing of toll-house and toll-takers without one magisterial
edict--the mere submission to the mob, seems to cry "_peccavi_" too
manifestly, and affords fresh colour to indiscriminate condemnation of
all. A _bonus_ in the shape of a toll for horse or team remitted, is
thus actually presented, many times a-day, to the rioter, the rebel, the
midnight incendiary of toll-houses, for this good work, by the supine,
besotted, or fear-palsied local authorities. Shall a man look on while a
burglar enters his house, ransacks his till, let him depart, and then,
in despair, leave the door he broke open, open still all night for his
entrance, and then wonder that burglary is vastly on the increase? The
wonder, I think, is that one gate remain