The Sun. — London, England, 1829-10-07 00:00:00

street all the tenants now remaining there who voted for Mr. Serjeant Wilde (four in number), have re ceived notices to quit; and none of the others who voted for Mr. Sadler. In Constantinople, arid Cot ton-square, the same. In Depot-yard, out of twelve now residing there, who polled at the last election, all the seven who voted for Mr. Serjeant Wilde have received notices to quit; and not one of the remain ing five who polled for the Duke's nominee. In Hen-and-Chickens-yard, a similarly marked distinc tion is observable, as also in Mill-gate, Lincoln row, Water-lane, Tomlinson's-row, and Tallent's row, &c. &c. In Slaughterhouse-lane, the only person who voted for the Serjeant, is Thomas Bell, who has received a notice to quit, notwithstanding that he resided in the same house six years before it was purchased by the present's Duke's grandfather, and notwithstanding that he is now seventy-seven years of age, fifty-two of which he has lived in the same house, never having been during that time, a day behind with his rent, and owing none until next Michaelmas-day (old style). He has always borne a good character, and lived out of that time twenty four years with one master, and twenty years with another, and against him there has been no worse imputation than that of having, on the last election, voted for Mr. Serjeant " We are happy, for the honour of the borough, to have to report that there does not exist the least pretence for the proceeding of the Duke on account of the backwardness on the part of the discharged tenants in the payment of their rents ; they were principally old, respectable, and well-paying tenants ; in most of the cases no rent whatever will be due un til the 12th instant, and in the remaining instances, not more than one-half year's rent, which will be duly paid. " With the preceding statement of facts we had intended to conclude our report, but the extraordi nary assertions contained in his Grace's letter to our Chairman compel us to further explanations, unless we were to allow the inhabitants of Newark to la bour under the unmerited imputation of ingratitude to his Grace. " We confidently appeal to the experience of our fellow-townsmen for the truth of our assertion, that we are not indebted to his Grace the Duke of New castle for any of those acts of beneficence to the poor, or utility and liberality to the town, for which in his letter he takes credit; on the contrary, the arbitrary and exclusive principle by which the let ting of his property has been governed has impeded the march of improvement, checked the progress of wealth, and confined (for election purposes), within narrow and inconvenient limits, a town, which from its local situation, the fertility of the surrounding country, and its proximity to the best markets, is well calculated to become, and in despite of every impediment is, to a considerable extent, the granary and storehouse of a large portion of the manufac turing districts. The acts of benevolence adverted to in his Grace's letter are, like himself, entirely unknown to the inhabitants; he neither contributes to their charities, nor does he promote their trade —he lives in their recollections only from the pe riodical visitation of his rent collectors, and in the rare case of defalcation in rent it is exacted with the strictest severity ; particularly so if the unfortunate defaulter is suspected of holding sentiments adverse to the Duke's political influence in the borough. The Duke has also long been ac customed to provide the town with Members of Parliament, which from the power the crown lands have given him, he has been able to get elected ; and although they have nominally represented the town, they have ever been insensible to the promo tion of its interests, holding their seats but to swell the number of his Grace's claims upon the Minister of the day, for the advancement of his own per sonal and 'family interests; and so completely have such Members been the puppets of the Duke, that, at his pleasuse, he has displaced and replaced them without notice to, or the knowledge of, those to whom they nominally were indebted for their ele vation. Had the conduct of the Duke been such as in his letter be is pleased to represent it to be, his property, and virtues would have been surely suifieient to confer influence within :the borough equal to every just and rational expectation, with out attempting to dragoon his tenants into a com pliance with his will, by the present undisguised attempt to reduce the town to the degraded con dition of a rotten borough, " We repel the supposition that those tenants of the Duke who voted for Mr. Serjeant Wilde held their property upon conditions of giving to his Grace the disposition of their votes, a contract which, in every case, would subject both parties to criminal punishment, and if proved extensively to exist, would subject the borough to disfranchise ment for general corruption. " But the Committee call upon the inhabitants of the borough, of all parties, to repel the imputa tion, to resist the present attempt to enslave them, and to join hand and heart in asserting the honour of the inhabitants, and the independence of the borough. (Signed) SAMUEL BRISTOWE and Others." Mr. T. GILSON again came forward, arid said that previous to his moving a resolution he wished to say that he had been an inhabitant of Newark for up wards of thirty years, and during thgt long time a tenant of his Grace. He now came for,vard be cause three red-hot shots had been, as he thought, unfairly fired at him first, because he was a Whig, although up to a recent period he had riot proclaimed hie sentiments in public,—an error of silence of which he trusted he should not in future prove guilty. It was known that he was a tenant of his Grace the Duke of Newcastle for a part of hie Crown property, on which he had gone to some expence io making erections of different kinds. To quit this tenement he had now received three notices, because, as his Grace said, he was at liberty to do what he pleased with his own. True, he was, to a certain extent; b ut he thought the Duke's power over his own was li m i te d like any other man's, arid that he was re, stricted wiien he attempted to do other persons an injury.—(Heal', hear.)—The Duke had declared an unwillingness to oppress any body, yet what was it but oppression to eject tenants because they yoted according to their consciences ? It was his poli,2y at one time to support the Duke of Wellington's' Government, and at another to oppose it; but be cause there were those in the borough who wished to be loyal to the King and faithful to his Mie;sters, it seemed they were to be ousted from their houses. They were met on the present occasion to see what the people ought to do when thus attacked, and he congratulated them on having present at this moment an eminent lawyer (Mr. Serjeant Wilde) who would give them the best advice in that condition. For his own part, as a friend to civil and religious freedom, he should always express his sentiments regardless of their consequences. His object at present was merely to move that the report be adopted by the meeting. Mr. W. KELK ' in seconding this moti,o,o, said he had a few remarks to make on the style arid ma„;ner of the Duke of Newcastle's artzwer to their com- ! munication. His Grace said, that il,aither lie nor his ancestors had ever been oppressive or tv:xinical landlords.—(A laugh.)— He really knew not wile, ther they had been such ; but ha wished at the , same time to know what acts of bounty er bene volence they had heaped upon the borough ?-,-(4 cry of "Isione.'')—Was it benevolent for his Grace to eject a long roll of tenants who had for many years honestly paid their rent, and for doing marply what the law enjotied them to do ?—(Hear, hear.) , They were bound to send fit and honest representa tives to Parliament. Was it noble in the aulte, because they wished to do so, to Aome down upon them with the penalty of ejectment 1 ? --(Cries of " Shame I")—Did the Constitution bind . e ti 4 4.71 to send only his Grace's nominee ? Was that what he called his rights ?—(" Perish the thought," ex claimed an old man in front of the hustings.)_ There was the case of Thomas Bell, who had for 53 years paid four times the value of the fee simple of the estate he held under the Duke, now about to „ be ejected. Was that what his Grace called . 6 i even-handed justice ?" When his Grace, then, ,cod of hie bounty, he should have specified what he meant. True, about 10 years ago, he had set his name down for 20/. in a soup subscription for the .town ; but that was all he had been able to learn of his munificence.—(A laugh.)—He supposed the soup was intended just to keep the voters alive until the following spring,. when the time recurred of sending more of the Duke of Newcastle's mem bers to Parliament to tax the people further for his Grace's dependents. But he talks of his " inhe rent rights of property." Are these to be under stood to extend to the consciences of his tenantry, and to their ejectment whenever they venture to think for themselves ? What if should the Crown, on the expiration of his Grace's lease of crown lands, imitate his example, and pay him in the same coin ? He would, no doubt, call that unfair; yet he had no compunction in practising the same treat ment upon others who were, he supposed, too weak to resist his m iodate. When the day came, he hoped these lands would be let to the public ; at all events, no change could be worse from that to which they were at present exposed by his Grace's borough propensities. The first resolution was then unanimously adopted. Mr. KELK wished to add one remark to what he had already said, and it implicated Mr. Sadler.— That gentleman went to Mr. Cutts, the butcher, in Mill-gate, and said he was sorry he had not had more regard for his own interest than to go against his landlord. This was a pretty way for an inde pendent man to get into Parliament. The law of England always said that where there was a wrong there was a remedy. They had obeyed the law in Newark, and yet they were to be turned out of their tenements. As Mr. Serjeant Wilde was pre sent, perhaps they would hear his opinion of what was their best course under such extraordinary cir cumstances. Mr. Serjeant WILDS then came forward, and was received with the loudest cheers. He said that he should have held himself subject to great censure, and should have likewise thought himself deprived of a great privilege, had be not presented himself before the inhabitants of Newark upon this cccasion. He had come amongst them on a former occasion to ask a favour, and for the same purpose he hoped to see them again for many years.—(Cheers.)--In the days of their prosperity he hoped he should not be found absent, but in the days of their trouble and of their oppression he would not be away.—(Loud applause.)—He knew of no moment when such a town as this, possessing the elective franchise, had so great a right to expect in attendance those who were, or sought to be, its representatives in Parlia ment, than when tyranny, in perversion of law, was in full operation to deprive freemen of the exercise of that right, by virtue of which only could members be fairly chosen. That time had arrived in Newark, and he appeared before diem as was alike his incli• nation and duty.—(Cheers.)---In one sense he re gretted that he was here us it were alone; he hardly thought he should have been unaccompanied by their r epresentatives on such an occasion. Mr. Sailer had had notice of their proceedings, nor could he frame a plausible, much less a rea sonable excuse, for that gentleman's absence ; he was their member; he was the friend of the Noble Duke. In every view of his situation this was the moment when he ought not to have aban doned them. If they were right in their complaint that crying injustice was about to be inflicted upon them for exercising their franchise, who but their re presentative ought to be first called to vindicate them from such a wrong? He (Mr. Wilde) up to this moment disbelieved that Mr. Sadler could have been absent ; for though he could imagine reasons why the Duke of Newcastle should not be forthcoming, he could imagine none for their member, unless he was prepared to desert Newark for ever. Other wise he could not be indifferent to such a question as this. Surely he had not left directions at his counting-house that no letters but invitations to dinner should be forwarded after him into the coun try. He attended a dinner in Newark and another at Whitby; but when his constituents complained of public wrong, he was no where to be found. Mr. Sadler was bound in justice to be here, and he would take leave to say, aye, in justice to himself. He had stood alongside him upon the hustings, and had hoped not to have missed him just at the mo ment when the iron hand of oppression was wresting from his constituents the elective franchise. It was true that at the hustings he had not answered the questions which he (Mr. Serjeant Wilde) had put to him : he had, however, since made the reply in the absence of those who could have confuted him, and after having been refreshed by these dinner in vitationE.—(A laugh.)—lt was to be lamented that he had absented himself on the day of all others when his attendance was most wanting. They had heard that Mr. Sadler had, in speaking to an elector, re gretted he had gone against his landlord, and inti mated some knowledge of the penalty thereby in curred by the landlord. Had he, then, been of the committee who had settled these notices ? If so, what angry remonstrance did he make to this un principled aggression upon the rights of freemen ? He ought to have been here to have stated how he came by the knowledge which he had glanced at, and have explained the character of the little coterie from which it sprung. Why had he not answered their invitation to attend ? Had i been to him a subject of so much consideration tha the time of attending to it had gone by during the reflection upon it, or of so much tribulation that he knew riot how to deal with it ? He ought, indeed either on his own account or on that of the Duke, to have been present upon such an occasion. They were met to-day, as Mr. Sadler must have known, to consider matter of the deepest importance, not only to the constituency of Newark, but to that of the whole kingdom. He did not mean to exagge rate the magnitude of this day's question when he spoke of its operation upon the principle of the elec tive franchise, He well knew, indeed, from the proceedings of Parliament what had been tolerated in the business of elections; bqt he would fearlessly venture to say, that the present was the boldest at temr which had ever in late times been m a d e to .. • subjugatp. the Oective franchise in England. Not withstanding the ppwer and galling yoke of the op pressor, they were yet boua4 try be moderate, though firm, in their resistance. The presence of so many iaia ,vas a sure proof that moderation would charac terise th4r rpceedings, and that order and obedience to the laws woutd Le the rule of their conduct; in fact, obedience to the law vrap essential to the mainte nance of every valuable right which it was in their powAr 0 enjoy. Ile lamented that neither the Puke nor his agent was . present on this occasion. His Grace might, per,ham be considered too high to at tend them, but at 'least he might have sent his agent; they rink to have at least the benefit of his /Vents, (The name of the agent of the Duke of Neyvca.sfle isJ Tallents„7,--4 laugh.)—For they had not, as was rumoured, been 104 under 3 napkin. Surely if these people felt like other met?, 'they would not have been absent on such an occasion as this. Still, though absent, they would not escape obs;;Tation. There was a power above them 'hich would awa t kep their attention, and compel them to hear of their own acts; that power was the bulwark of British liberty, the prgs,—wilich would ring throuii,bout the kingdom the oppres'siOn . of their wrong doiagit, That press was, in England, thank God, ornnipoter4 against oppression, because it ctight to be, when it advocated the. rights of the oppressed against the sway of wealth and power. ;: ,-• (Cheers.)—lt 0 . 41 y tleserved encouragement while employed for purposes so essential to the public safety. /f Parliament had grown corrupt ; it was because the people had not in past times the senti nel of the press to guard their liberty; but these titzne had passed, and with them the power to lord over the poo' 7;nd honest, who were (Jetermipad ro .7sert the rights whieL 1,-.elonged to their station.— (elkeers,)--rHe spoke, then, tu - Ae.r an awful respon- ' sibiGty, toy !Nbat he said would go ;berme the world, and he,could n.: - iot serve his fellow countrymen he had no desire to aggrayati; their evils by showing .14'W practically their rights might I;e arrested from them. 911 this occasion, every person who could read a newspaper would sit in judgment upon what felt from him. Xis was going to examine the con duct of a man who possessed rank, power, and property, all of which he feared it would be found he had abused for the most mischievous purposes. He knew, indeed, that there were examples of abuses arising out of this kind of influence ; • but never before, as far he had ever heard, had they been carried to this extent—never before was there an example of this degree of pretension to in fluence, after the payment of the full rent for pro perty also. Rank would always have its claim for public respect, not because it was necessarily accompanied with more intelligence, but that it was supposed to be actuated by higher motives for the regulation of human conduct. Where, how ever, men of rank and property were found to use their power for evil, they were exposed to public animadversion. If the law did not reach them, public opinion could ; and, thank God, there were no means of escaping at least from that tribunal. The Duke of Newcastle said in his letter that he was doing what the law justified. Let him take care how he relied upon that impression, and how he ventured to set at nought the weight of pub lic opinion throughout the country. Did they com plain of his Grace's conduct without cause ? They knew it was their duty to vote according to their consciences in the return of their repre sentatives; for upon the exercise of that right depended the safety of their lives, their reli gion, and property. For the protection of so valuable a right, old laws had been enacted which were fortified by subsequent statutes. The Duke of Newcastle was miserably educated if this knowledge had not reached him. He ought to know that it was not necessary to take money to come within the purview of these statutes—to re ceive any consideration was sufficient to bring the offender within the pale of the law, and the penalty was 5001. for every such offence, besides the per petual disqualification of the individual; the party offering, as well as the party taking this considera tion, directly or indirectly, was alike implicated. In these remarks he did not mean to treat the Duke of Newcastle with rudeness, while he meant to visit him with wholesome severity as a proud oppressor of the poor—as a rich man trampling on the rights of the humble—(Hear, hear) ;—and for it be must be brought to the exposure of Parliamentary in quiry.—(Hear, hear.)—The Duke had mistaken, when he thought that he was only exercising the just and legitimate rights of property, he dared not avow the motive of such conduct, although lie was prepared to act upon its impulse. He knew well enough, that so cautious was the law to guard against corrupt influence, that it permitted any man to ten der an oath at the hustings to the voter, to assure himself against the practice of corruption ; and yet the Duke felt no compunction at exposing his te nants to such an ordeal, bringing, as it did, into collision their honesty and corrupt dependency. This shameful avowal could not be made in the face of Parliament. The question was, whether in point of fact the law was morally evaded by the Duke of Newcastle, and acted upon in a tyrannical manner. His Grace, as well as his member and agent, had been fully apprized of the object of this meeting: he knew fairly and above-board what was the cause of their assembling. Had he not, then, by his con duct, admitted they were right in the construction which they had put upon his actions ? If he had disavowed the motive imputed to him, then there would have been no necessity for the meeting. It was only because of oppression the people of Newark complained; they middled not with his Grace's real rights of property, even with their most whimsical dis position. But unfortunately his Grace's own statement confirmed all their apprehensions, and established the case against him. The Duke says, "If I rightly understand the objects of the requisitionists, it is to assert the cause of freedom and indepen denee." In no other sense, indeed could he have understood their object, or suppose the words to be used. He goes on to state, "no man on earth values both more than I do." But how does it ap pear that he valued them ? Why as a commodity to sell.—(Hear, hear.)—lle insisted upon having their votes for his nominee,and if theygave them not to-day, they must prepare to be ejected to-morrow. Did his Grace know on what liberty depended in such a country as England. It meant the privilege of free and unbiassed action—it meant that and nothing else.—(Hear, hear.)—Not so his Grace's construction of it; he loved freedom, but it was the freedom of doing wrong—it was the independence of moral restraint—not that the electors should have the privilege of voting as they wished, but as he thought. This was loving them with the vengeance —killing them with kindness.—(A laugh.)—His Grace proceeds to say—" But as I respect the liberty of others, so must I demand that others shall not attempt to interfere with that freedom and in dependence which is my right as well as theirs." What did he mean by these words ? Suppose the Bribery Oath were tendered to any voter whose conscience had yielded to his interest, would not the Duke, not the elector, be the man who had tampered with his dependent's feelings, and compelled him against freedom arid independence to violate his sacred duty ? Suppose it to be the case of his (Mr. Wilde's) poor old friend Bell, now sinking with age, and scarcely having life enough remaining to give utterance to his wrong, what would be his condition if he yielded to such tampering ? The Judges of Eng land would tell his Grace what their sense would be of the relative guilt of the two parties ; they had already recorded it in the judgments which they were wont to pass when the rich ar►d the poor man were brought as culprits to be sentenced for bribery, and when they made the former the signal victim. When his Grace talked of interference, he would ask him, who wanted to interfere with his freedom or his rights ? All the people wanted was that be should not unduly and unjustly controul their rights of voting. His Grace stood high in the commu nity, and had rights and privileges enough to com mand, but if he felt himself above the reach of the aw, he was at least not beyond the operation of public opinion ; there he had a tribunal before which, high as he was, he must plead. When his Grace talked of claiming for himself what he willingly con ceded to others, he talked empty words, and more particularly when he reminded them of what he called his inherent rights of property. He had, to be sure, like every other man, the tight to use his own property, but t as had been well said, he had no right to abuse it ; he had no right, under the pretence of the administration of his property, to barter the consciences of poorer men.—(Hear, hear.) —Why, Mr. Sadler himself had denounced such conduct, and put his sentiments upon it, on record, in his book upon Ireland, where, in page 117, they would find this remarkable passage t —F‘ So far it will be said the owners of land have a perfect right to do what they will with their own." Now, unless Mr. Sadler gave his Grace an abridgment of the work, the Dake must have read this passage,," This is a notion," says Mr. Sadler, " which I will not page to diy r cuss, for it has probably been the apo logy for more cruelty and oppression than all the others which ever existed!? This strong language was applied to the ejectment of the poor Irish tenantry, perhaps the Duke of Newcastle did not think it applied to his tenants in Newark. surely, if the people could call any thing their own,' it ougiit to be their consciences; and it was of these that his Grace determined to be reave them, when he thought proper to set 'up Members of Parliament. The Duke said, " Whilst the laws of England exist and arc respected, I shall permit no clamour, nor threats, nor even force itself, to deter me from doing as I may think fit with my own property." NiThat could his Grace have been thinking of when he penned this passage ? Did he not know that a law existed, agalosp the very conduct he was pursuing ? Did he not 1;now that the 14:4; o . otiticcd corrupt interference at elections? Did he not know (oat thel.aw denounced as penal the attempt to bribe honest men for their votes at Goa:. $o that, from the beginning to the end, the Duke seemed to misunderstand and misinterpret the force and cogency of legal obligations. In another part his Grace said, " My advice to those who deceive themselves with the notion that they are acting as becomes free-born Englishmen? is to maintain the well-balanced scale of even-handed justice." Why did not the Duke act up to his wholesome advice himself ? Why talk of even handedjastice, when the will was to be all on one side,—when the only alternative held out to the tenant was, " vote for my man, or else walk out of my tenement ?" And this he called the scale of even-handed justice He was afraid that it would be impossible to put his Grace's phrase into any scale iu which it would not kick the beam at the first attempt to balance it. Indeed, the Duke of Newcastle's letter, in some respects, resembled his friend Mr. Sadler's speeches. There was a great deal said, but nothing proved. He remembered the story of the man at the Borough election, whose hint for speaking was confined to three words —viz., slavery, liberty, and chains.--(A laugh.)— Now his Grace's vocabulary was genuine freedom, constitutional rights, cause of freedom and independ ence. Indeed, the Duke appeared to have borrowed the fag-end of one of Mr. Sadler's finely rounded sen tences; but the error was, that what he called his constitutional right was the power to do that which was constitutionally wrong. His use of the rights of property was the abuse of them, to the cruel in jury of those who were thought to be in his power, and in contravention of all the principles of justice. His Grace further on said, in conclusion, " I must remind those of the inhabitants of Newark who suffer themselves to be led to suppose that they have cause of complaint against me, that neither I nor my ancestors have ever been oppressive or tyrannical landlords. The very reverse is the well-known fact. In us the town of Newark has on all occasions found ready:and prominent benefactors ; by us the deserv ing poor and needy have always been regarded with steady kindness and consideration, and not to suit the mere purposes of the day." What did all this mean ? Where did his Grace acquire the power of lecturing the people of Newark upon the duties imposed by his benevolence ? Where and when had they sold to him their birth-right for a mess of pottage ?—(" Of soup," cried a voice in the crowd.)—Well, then, be it of soup.—(A laugh.)— As to the great benefits conferred by his Grace arid his ancestors, they had the singular fortune of not being remembered by any body ; perhaps these be nefactions had come among them like angels' visits— " few arid far between." But were they known instead of being unknown, was gratitude for favours to consist in a devotion which compromised honour arid conscience ?—(Cries of " No.")—What im provement had he achieved for their town ? Where were the monuments of his family's munificence ? Who of the deserving had he protected—of the needy had he succoured ?—(Cries of " None.")-- " Why," exclaimed an old man, he robbed my eldest son."—(A loud laugh.)—He had dis covered no record of his Grace's bounty, be yond the miserable pittance of the 20/. in the soup subscription—the oldest inhabitant remembered no thing else. All that he had been made able to learn of his Grace's bountiful intention to the borough was, that at certain periodical visits he took upon himself the charge of nominating Members of Par liament for them. The English of this letter was— " 1 am the constant friend of your borough : you are to take my word for all this, and riot to trouble your consciences about the mode in which I shall call upon you to use your, or rather my, elective franchise.' Now how stood the Duke of New castle's claim to compel them to vote as he pleased —to prostitute their consciences, and to punish the recusants because they were better than himself ? He claimed the right of influence, but of what de scription of influence ? Not that which justly arose from the beneficial application of his property,—not that which gratitude freely gave in return for bene fits—(although he doubted whether even gratitude ought to extend to such a weight of onerous obli gation),—but a wholesale dominion of conscience over those who held tenements under him, in de fiance, of reason, law, and justice. He feared, in deed, that there had often been much of corruption at elections. This lie knew had been to a certain degree tolerated—but never to the extent now claimed by the Duke of Newcastle.—(Hear, hear.) —This could riot be endured, unless corruption, from the frequency of its occurrence, had lost its impurity of character. The fact was, that in some sense even vice lost:some of:its repulsive character, seeing it too often rendered it too familiar, as the poet said— " Yet seen ten oft—familiar with her face, " You first endure, then pity, then embrace." The Learned Serjeant here produced a large bundle of notices of ejectment, received by those of the in habitants who had voted against the Duke's no minee at the last election, and condemned in the strongest terms this perversion of the rights of pro perty. If this were to continue, the Duke might indeed people his tenements with his voters, but from them all sense of conscience should be fled. Indeed he should like to see the placard fOr the next letting of this part of his Grace's property. If properly composed it should run thus, " A number of houses to let in the borough of Newark, to tenants who will vote us the landlord commands, and not trouble themselves upon points of conscience : rent not to be paid in money, but in corruption."—(A laugh.) —This was, however, a serious evil; it had imposed a squandering and expensive system of patronage upon the Government, which the people had them. selves in the end to pay. The borough patron in return for his members compelled the Ministers of the day to provide for his dependents out of the public stock. The day, however, for such scanda lous bargains was fast passing away, and in this re spect parliamentary reform had, perhaps, begun at the best end. Times had changed a little, and the Minister had not wherewithal to pay. When the money ceased to flow in these heartless arid profli gate bargains, bribery and corruption would, in the sam e proportion dwindle away. The family of the Duke of Newcastle were long known as the sup porters of successive Governments, and had, doubt less, been repaid with the good things which Minis ters had to confer; but the day of these bargains was on the wane, arid the people had at least hope for their consolation. The more immediate ques tion, however, was, what was to be done in the pre sent juncture of their affairs ? In point of law, it was extremely difficult to restrain men in the disposi tion of their property, because sometimes the cunning and craft of the man concealed the true grounds of his actions. Thus, when a poor woman complained to his Grace's agent—" Sir, my husband has got no tice to quit ; he always paid his rent punctually, but I am afraid this is done because at the last election he voted blue." " I know he has had the notice," replied Mr. Tallents, " but, mind, I don't talk of reds or blues, we want and must have these houses for our friends." This was the way in which these matters were transacted, so that there was the greatest difficulty in bringing the matter home to the individual, so as to implicate him legally; he would, hos . vever, take care to have each case sepa rately examined, and where the real motive could be traced, to have it fairly put to the test of a trial.-- (Clreers.)-,-If this should, however, in its details, prove to be a deed of darkness,—if the motives should be effectually concealed, and flagrant proof of their detection be found impossible, --let them, at all events, go before Parliament with their complaint, (Applause.)--,_Let them petition and specify all the facts to the House of Commons, setting nothing down in malice, nor extenuating aught. It will then be seen if the House of Commons could afford them any protection. At all events, good muse arise from the general agitation of their grievance ;—it would be borne on the wings of the press, and "public opi nion would operate upon the mind of the Duke of Newcastle, and make him rue the day he oppressed his tepents ip Newark ; if the leo , could net be evoked for their protection, et least they would he sure of public sympathy, and the instruments of this wrong would receive their just reward. Here the Learned Serjeant went into a detail of many of the proceedings of the late election, the asser'tion's of Mr. Sadler th 4 it was to be a fair-fought battle between the reds arid the blues,aral Mr.Tallenes silence when he was called upon to withdrew the Duke's ban from the refractory electors. The effects of his g r ace's displeasure had convened the present rneetitl he must remark, that it was not alone the blues who had been wronged, the reds were likewise insulted.—( Hear, hear.)—Were there no honest reds who scorned the trammels of corrupt influence? Were the reds, too, to be plainly told that they must vote as they were commanded, or else turn out from their homes ? Such conduct was equally un fair to them, among whom he knew there were many honourable and well-meaning men. The stigma it cast was universal, and tainted alike every man in the borough. No man henceforth could be a tenant . of the Duke of Newcastle who dared to have a will of his own. They must qualify for his houses, by a sacrifice of their independence. It was once said to an applicant for admission into a female asylum for particular subjects, " Have you been vicious ?" The girl replied in the negative; and was then told to go and sin, as a preliminary qualification to render her admissable.—(A laugh.)—So would it be in the bo rough of Newark,—the qualification of the tenants would be the sacrifice of their civil rights. In this sense the reds ought to come forward and fight the battle conjointly with the blues; their cause was common, and involved their characters respectively. It had been said that the influence he had the honour of having among them had been acquired by bribery; and a good honest man in a London newspaper had said, that of all the shameful and scandalous systems of bribery ever carried on, nothing was to be com pared to Mr. Serjeant Wilde's at Newark.—(A laugh.)—That it beat hollow the Grampound break fasts and the Ilchester horse-raddish. " Oh," said he, " there was actually a bill stuck up in the town, headed, Dr. IVilde's sovereign remedy.' " The fact was, some wag had imposed upon the London editor a quack doctor's bill, which happened to be placarded in the town at the time of the election, and ascribed it to him. Indeed he could h ave wished he had had it in his power to furnish them with a sovereign remedy. Until he could find one, however, he hoped to pre pare a dose for the Duke of Newcastle, which, with such good nurses as the electors of Newark, would, he hoped, soon abate the disorder.—( A laugh.)— Here the Learned Serjeant, in the most energetic manner, declared that he had neither directly nor indirectly given a bribe to a single individual, and he pledged himself solemnly that he never would. He had, he avowed, the ambition to get into Parliament; but if he could not get a seat by fair means he scorned to obtain one by foul. Indeed he had heard that the ordinary and necessary legal expences of the election had been paid for him out of the Treasury.—(A laugh.)—H e must say, in reply to this assertion, that he did not find that to be the case at his banker's. He concluded by a reitera tion of the principal topics of his speech, and by an assurance of bissteadfast attachment to t he persecuted electors of Newark. Wherever he found oppression, there should he present resistance; but it would be, as he knew theirs would, a legal and just opposition —one bounded by the law and sanctioned by its principles.—(Loud cheers.) On the motion of Mr. JOHN HAGE, seconded by Mr. GILSON, a committee was then formed to orga nize the proper resistance to the proceedings of the Duke of Newcastle ; and thanks were afterwards voted to the Chairman. Mr. Serjeant WILDE again came forward, and said that some objections had been made to his paying a visit to Newark, lest his calling upon the electors should have any tendency to withdraw them from their usual occupations. He could not concur in this opinion ; he should therefore stay to pay his respects to as many of them as he could for a few days ; and at the same time he need not add what confidence he placed in their sense of the propriety of attending to their own specific duties, and main taining their just cause by every demonstration of their reliance on the laws and constitution of their country for their vindication from oppression. The meeting then separated with loud cheers. THE DINNER. At six o'clock the company sat down to an ex cellent dinner at the Castle and Falcon Tavern. After the cloth was removed, the Chairman (Mr. BRISTOWE) gave " The King," four times four— then " The Army and Navy,"—" The People, the true source of legitimate Power,"—" His Majesty's Ministers,"—" The Town and Trade of Newark." The CIIAIRMANnext proposed " The health of Mr. Serjeant Wilde," which was drunk with loud ap plause, and four times four. Mr. Serjeant WILDE, in returning thanks, ex pressed the warm sense which he entertained of these compliments. He referred to their former proceedings, and complained, in indignant terms, of the mariner in which the Duke of Newcastle had behaved to the independent electors of Newark.— He knew no writer upon the Constitution who did not hold that its safety depended upon the freedom of elections. The influence of property they all understood, but it was the tyranny of property against which they contended—(Hear, hear)—that arbitrary power avowed by the Duke of Newcastle, arid which was to suppress all freedom of action.-- But he had heard that the Duke had only done what other Peers were in the habit of enforcing.— This, he believed, was not the fact; here and there might be found splenetic examples of the of landlords', and instances of vexatious oppression arising out of them, but there never had been be fore such a wholesale proscription as this, such a crowd of ejectments. There were, he believed, many Noblemen, who, though they would use their influence at elections, would blush to treat their te• trams as those et Newark had been used. But even if men could be found acting like the Duke of Newcastle, whet palliation could be drawn from the repetition of such offences ?—( Hear, hear.)—But to what did these acts tend ? They had been told by art eminent writer, that if they had a Constitution sound in the main complexion, they must look not in the glass to find freckles in its skin. But what they complained of were not slight deformities—they were attacked in their dearest rights. The constitu tional appeal to the people for the exercise of their elective franchise was rendered a mockery, and by the very Peer who had himself on a late occasion plied loudly upon the Government to make such an appeal, in the hope of preventing the passing of a particular Act of Parliament.—(Hear, hear.)—Such was the consistency of those who merely worshipped their own interests. No man had less ground of complaint against the people for voting for an ad ministration than the Duke of Newcastle, who had been always voting for Ministers, although now such votes appeared to him to - be - a crime only to be ex piated by a relentless proscription. The Duke was likewise as odd in his attachments as in his antipa thies, for this very Mr. Sadler had indulged in wholesale anathemas against the policy which his Grace now affected to support. To be sure it was not always easy to catch tire commoner's meaning. He had, however, one advantage, if it could be called one---whatever he said found its way into print. (Somebody here said, "Because he always reports his own speeches.") That was sometimes a dan gerous circumstance for a senator, for it might bind him inconveniently close to certain opinions; in ar gument, however, it was difficult to grapple with Mr. Sadler, for lie assumed so many propositions to be true, and dealt so roundly in strong assertions. When he (Mr. Serjeant Wilde) challenged him on the hustings to discuss the Catholic question, Mr. Sadler replied, that he would reserve his argument for another place; lie had since delivered himself of it in the !louse of Commons, and certainly, for !florid construction of sentences, and utter ab scence of argument, lie never read a speech of equal length so strikingly remarkable.---(Hear, hear.), Mr. Sadler was somewhat of a P"40 1 1g opponent ; he would not argue on the hustings, but reserved himself, after due preparation, for snug dinner parties at Newark and Whitby, where none were present but his own coterie, and where he triumphed because he had no opponent? - (A laugh.) Wh y was h e absent from Newark on the present occa sion ?. The invitation had been safely transmitted to him, even if the newspapers had nut reached hi m ; his nephew was here l ast night how, then, was his absence to by accounted for 2 He surely was not Afraid to meet his opponents in fair arid open argument ? Had he attended, they should have endeavoured to have made him reconcile CO P of his pathetic complaints against the oppreseir d of the Irish te n a n t r y w i t h t h e course now piney, by his patron, th e D u k e o f N ewcast l e in o_l borough of Newark. He had feelingly complahlZ of the landlords of Ireland for consigning a whir country to perpetu a l su ff er i ng , rat h er t h an touch t he plan of their property. With such principles, if h e really entertained them, he was more than ever bound to attend this day's meeting, for the pure of giving them effect in his own neighbourhog"' which was threatened with the affliction which b e had so vehemently deplored. Speaking of the Irish forty-shilling freeholders, he said that their dig" franchisement was a base compromise of the right° of the poor for the rich; and in his glowing language he declared that the rights and privy' leges of the cottier were wrested from Mob to add to the splendour of the coronet; and be had asked, what would be thought of disfrat chising nine-tenths of the electors of Newark. Yet such was the case in. Ireland. Why, this wa s the very language which they would have been delight; ed this day to have heard at the meeting. It wo uld have been the a pt commentary upon t h e D uke o ' i Newcastle's conduct; and perhaps that was the veil reason why Mr. Sadler did not wish to have been present to utter it.—(A laugh.)—A little f a rther in his book he contended, that to deprive the MO peasant of his political privilege was to take fro°, him his natur a l one . H e , i n f act, went over t " whole ground of such a case as the Duke of NO' castle's with the borough of Newark. Whfr, he repeated, treat the reds with the contumely of no t vindicating them from any participation in the se e of their patro n ? M r . S a dl er , at t h e c l ose of hig speech at the election, said that he could look with unmingled pleasure at the means by which his sue'. cess had been achieved. Were he now present, could he repeat that satisfaction, after seeing the iri• dividual wrong which was perpetrated upon voterl who had exercised their honest privilege in voting according to their consciences? Mr. Serjeaat Wilde, in conclusion, made an animated appeal to the people' of Newarklto be true to themselves, regardless of the frowns of power, and the corruption of principle er hibited by men of rank, who were not half so noble' minded as those they had oppressed. Upon the health of Mr. Hill being drank, couple ° with the independence of the bar, Mr. HILL returned thanks, and pronounced g warm eulogium on Mr. Setjeant Wilde. He dicated the independence of the barrister of the Mid' land Circuit, and animadverted in strong terms uptg l Mr. Sadler's absence on the present occasion. JO characterised the speechesof that gentleman as bell , made up of Yankee cast-off phrases, of tropes ape figures,—the only commodities,in fact, a free trade ig which the Hon. Member had not denounced. The Liberty of the Press %vas next drank; and Mr , HITCHINS, of the Newark Times, returned thanke• The company sat until a late hour, in the enjoy' ment of much conviviality. THE OMNIBUS.—The new Omnibus, drawn by three horses abreast, which was started from Hammer' smith to Somerset-house on Saturday last, is strong, and convenient for passengers; the body and seats are lin& with blue cloth. The driver, and the attendant, who lea the passengers in and out, have liveries of brown cloth turned up with yellow. On each side of the door notices are affixed, stating that no passenger can be taken up after the vehicle has passed Hyde-park-corner, towards Londoth or any put down on this side of it, from Somerset-house. On the other side: are affixed the prices of the lare g from Hammersmith to Somerset-house—one shilling ; for half the distance, sixpence. Four apples, the produce of an American tree, weighing upwards of one pound each, and grown in the garden of Mr. S3IITH, of Conisborough, were sold 0 0 Saturday se'nnight, in Doncaster market, at sixpence each• An apple has been grown this season in the. garden of Mr. JOHN GILBERT, of Pilton, called " the Glory of the West," which measures 15 inches in circum ference, and weighs upwards of 19 ounces. The tree ie he,avily laden with cruit, many of which, it is said, are of cqud size with the one above mentioned.—Exeter Alfred. It is said that the game in this vicinity is this year much scarcer than usual, especially along the tract desolated by the tremendous storm of July last ; which, it is supposed, killed the young birds, us the coveys are ceedingly scarce, and difficult to find.—Boston Gazette. IPSWICH BUTTER FAIR.— At this fair, on Tuesday last, the attendance of buyers was very small; cow sequently but few sales were effected, and those at low . prices. Some farmers sold at 40s. ; and one dairy WO taken home unsold in consequence of being extra salted; a fault which has become too prevalent in Suffolk.—Essex Herald. Braintree fair, held on Friday and SaturdaYi . was well supplied with bullocks and neat cattle . of every description, which were in excellent condition. There was also the very best show of horses and cart colts %O' nessed for many years; and the oldest frequenters ba" been heard to declare, that the latter were superior to a n y thing ever before exhibited there. The show ofaheep also large; but the sale of this description of stock was re; ticularly short ; one flock-master drove nearly one thousand out of the fair unsold : the like dullness prevailed in every ether department. On Friday, being the first day, little or no business was done; awl the rain continued to fall in such torrents on the Saturday, that those who had th e means of purchasing were so dispirited by the prospect' that the exchange of money for stock was less than ere *. known ; the prices we notice must therefore be taken 0 merely nominal. Scotch runts, from 71. to 12/. ; calve s " 41. 7s. 6d. to 51. 7s. 6d.: one particular cart colt, we are told, brought as much as 601. There were but few h°P . unloaded, the prices varying according to quality ; 1828 ' from 71. to Si. per cwt. ; 1829, front 101. to 121. Butter sold from 48s. to 565. per firkin. One dairy of cheese wag sold as high as 14s. per lead.—Essex Herald. SEA SICKNESS.—The following embroca tion for preventing or alleviating sea-sickness has been in" vented by a Mr. DERBYSHIRE, who has secured it by Pt tent :—" Take of crude opium two ounces avoird., tee drachms of extract of h en b ane, ten gra i ns o f pow d e re d mace, and two ounces of hard mottled soap. Boil then' in 60 ounces of soft water for half an hour, stirring wen. When cold, add one quart of spirits of wine at 60 degree ° , above proof, a n d th ree d rac h ms o f sp i r i t o f ammonia. Rol' a dessert spoonful of this embrocation well in over " th e lower end of the breast-bone, and under the left ribs, th e latest time you can conveniently do so previous to embar kation, and again on board as soon as you have a" Ori c r : - tunity. The application mus t b e cont i nue d t ill the sic ness disappears." W e h ave h ear d t h at t hi s reme dy is use d with success. If so, the discovery is invaluab'e. SLEEVES.—That very preposterous deformity in a lady's dress, which hes been styled Bishop's Sleeves , and might have been celled Pudding Bags, is now termed bibeeilles. The term is more appropriate to the wearer than the dress, as appears by the danger, as well as ridi culous effect, which attends this absurdity. To say nothing of its agreeable dippings at the tea and dinner table, th e risk of life at the toilet in the evening and elsewhere, ha s lately been proved by a conflagration which had nearly ter minated the existence of a beautiful young girl—but those —old and ugly, if there are such—stand in the same peri l ' for they follow the same fashion. These, however, ll ° hope, may b e i n fl uence d by the admonition of the Para": last Su n d a y i n t h e L essons, where in Ezekiel, c h ap . v. 18, they were told_.." Woe to the women that sel pillows to all arm.h o l es ," or , accor di ng to t h e ma rgin s note, elbows." These pill ow - eases , lik e trowsers a mong"; men to conceal knock-knees and bandy legs, were adopt to hide arms s ki nn y, l an k y , h oney, or misshapen. Th Oa : whom nature has blessed with fair proportions stotild °° submit to be so bamboozled by fashion, Mr. LISTER, dear relative of several 1 161. 3 ble famili es , `,•:,(1 the well-itnown author of Graiibh aP • r , of .1 - fe.*r; Lacy, has w r itt en a t rage d y, w hi c h i s nosy" - rehearsal at Prniy-lane Theatre, and will be acted for first time on Saturday. It is entitled Epicharis. plot and story are built upon that portion of Roman tory so eloquently and circumstantially related by c.v 4 vs, in which the Life of Ni no was dangerouslY, c° , - i.. spired aga i ns t by a ce l e b rate d f am i ly i n Rome. ,140. charis, who is d ee ply i nvo l ve d i n t h e conspiracy, 3n , - ez fuses to confess th e assoc i a t es o f h er gu il t, thoug'imisa posed to th e grea t es t t orments , w ill b e personate d by PHILLIPS, and those who have been present at the ta a hearsal anticipate this character will be equally effectiv e , "old RlENzt's (laughter." CO OPER p e rf or ms the racter of Nero, and YOUNG, Subrius Flavius. LACK, represents the daring conspirator Piso. The t r : gedy i s sa id t o a b oun d w i t h hi g hl y wroug h t p o etical P 4 sages, and is full of interelt and dramatic situatioos.