But he was burdened with thoughts at the moment, which, in a sufficiently meritorial character, humbled him with a scourge that lacerated at every stroke.
"God forbid, 'squire, that more harm should be done.

There has been more done already than any of us shall well get rid of.

I wish to heaven I had taken caution from you.

But I was mad, 'squire, mad to the heart, and became the willing tool of men not so mad, but more evil than I! God forbid, sir, that there should be more harm done." "Then why this assembly?
Why do the villagers, and these ragged and savage fellows whom you have incorporated among you--why do they lounge about idly, with arms in their hands, and faces that still seem bent on mischief ?" "Because, 'squire, it's impossible to do otherwise.

We can't go to work, for the life of us, if we wished to; we all feel that we have gone too far, and those, whose own consciences do not trouble them, are yet too much troubled by fear of the consequences to be in any hurry to take up handspike or hammer again in this quarter of the world." The too guilty man had indeed spoken his own and the condition of the people among whom he lived.