By your news-papers we are told, that God had sent a very short harvest to some other countries of Europe. I thought this might be in favour of Old England; and that now we should get a good price for our grain, which would bring millions among us, and make us flow in money: that to be sure is scarce enough.
But the wisdom of government forbad the exportation[87].
Well, says I, then we must be content with the market-price at home.
No, say my lords the mob, you sha'n't have that. Bring your corn to market if your dare;—we'll sell it for you, for less money, or take it for nothing.
Being thus attacked by both ends of the constitution, the head and tail of government, what am I to do?
Must I keep my corn in the barn, to feed and increase
the breed of rats?—be it so;—they cannot be less thankful than those I have been used to feed.
Are we farmers the only people to be grudged the profits of our honest labour?—And why? One of the late scribblers against us gives a bill of fare of the provisions at my daughter's wedding, and proclaims to all the world, that we had the insolence to eat beef and pudding!—Has he not read the precept in the good book, Thou shalt not muzzle the mouth of the ox that treadeth out the corn; or does he think us less worthy of good living than our oxen?
O, but the manufacturers! the manufacturers! they are to be favoured, and they must have bread at a cheap rate!