The Sun. — London, England, 1839-11-21 00:00:00

EVENIN G EDITION. JOHN THOROGOOD. (From the Leicestershire Mercury.) GREAT MEETING OF DISSENTERS AT LEICESTER. The Leicester Voluntary Church Society having called a public meeting for the purpose of taking into consideration the case of the Chelmsford Church-rate victim, John Thorogood, with a view to alleviate his sufferings, —on Monday evening, long before the hour a ppointed for the commencement of the proceedings, etta friends of religious liberty began to assemble in the - New Hall, Wellington-street, the ladies, to their ho nour, being the first on the field. Notwithstanding a dinner to celebrate the Dissenting Ward of All Saints, and a Chartist Meeting,—the seats which occupied the spacious area of the Hall were completely filled by a few minutes past seven o'clock, and not long after the speaking had commenced, the elevation at the northern end, and the space behind and on either side the seats, were densely crowded ; and at a later hour many persons were unable to ob tain admission. The platform and orchestra were oc cupied by ministers and members of the Evangelical Dissenting Churches and congregations, of whom, in deed, the meeting was almost exclusively composed. The ministers present were the Revs. E. Miall, G. Legge, M. A. J. P. Mursell, J. Goadby, and T. Ste venson, of Leicester, the Revds. T. Mays, of Great Wigston, W. Bedford, of Narborough, and Cosby, of Hallaton ; and the Rev. T. F. Newman, of Short wood, Gloucestershire. We also noticed Cyrus R.. Ed munds, Esq., Aldermen Cripps, Richards, Town Coun cillors Austin, Baines, Eames, Manning, Wheeler, and Winks ; Messrs. J. Sergeant, G. Viccars, J. Moore, J. Nunneley, &c. The meeting, which, from the plat form, presented a very imposing spectac le, was charac terised throughout by unity of sp irit, depth of feeling, and sustained interest in the o bject for which they had been convened. The business of the evening w as commenced by the that Mr. Wm. B a i nes Rev. J. P. MIIRSELL , moving, (the St. Martin's Church-rate recusant), against whom proceedings are now pending, do take the Chair, which was seconded by the Rev. T. MAYS, and received by the meeting with enthusiastic and protracted cheering. After a short interval, the CHAIRMAN rose amidst loud cheers, and said :—Ladies and gentlemen, although the object for which we have assembled to-night may be .known to most of you, there may be some to whom it may not be known ; and it is my duty, as Chairman, therefore to state it. I shall merely say, however, that one of our Christian brethren, John Thorogood, is now - - - imprisoned in Chelmsford gaol, and has been so for up wa-ds of ten months, for non-paymeut of Church-rates. I am .quite certain that the sufferings which he must have t•odured, both mentally and bodily, will commend him to your deepest sympathy.—(Loud cheers.) I now call on the Rev. Edward Miall to move the first resolu- Lion. The Rev. E. MIALL then addressed the meeting as follows :—Ladies and gentlemen, I bold in my hand a document of no ordinary interest, one which, I feel p ersu aded, will produce a thrill of emotion throughout this' assembly—a letter from Chelmsford gaol, written by the suffering, but reverecl, the persecuted, but noble martyr to the question of Church rates, John Thoro good—(;Hear, hear) —a most suitable introduction to the resolution which I have to move, and a most powerful argument for its adoption ; Before I read it to the meeting, however, permit me to cite a quotation from a letter which I received yesterday, dated Chelms ford gaol, from one of the staunchest friends of religious freedom, Mr. John Childs, of Bungay : I have inquired particularly about this poor man's o ,'laracter, and find it quite unexceptionable in all re spects. The novelty which induced many to go to see him at first has long worn off, and now a small number o f r evpeetab!e persons in the town are all that visit hi m . I think his health, which was fine and vigorous, is giving way. I sea a marked difference in his ap pearance; he is nervous and re.3tiess ; and unwell. I have nn doubt his constitution will give way, for the prison is low and damp, being situate by the river side." This is the ,-nan who thus writes from the dungeons .of the Piotestanc Inquisition : " Chelmsford Gaol, Nov. 8, 1839. "My dear Sir.---I received your kind letter, urn thank you, and the Coristian friends at Leicester, for your syiapathy towards me, and your wish to be in!ormed of my case ; is reply t,) ivhioli I beg to state, that my convictions of tile injustice and iii;quity of Church-rates have for some. time past been gradually strengthening., until about three years and a half :ince, upon the Churchwardens applying for a rate, I told them I could not conscientiously pay it any longer. Front that time until last year they did riot apply to me again, hut re ported that ray friends had paid it for me, although I never could ascertain oho these friends were. Last year, they again called upon toe for a rate, and on my refusing, summoned me before the Magistrates. I ap peared, and disputed the validity of the rate. This was iii August, and in November they summoned me again for another rate (the summonses iu both instances being ! signed by a priest named 13rookesby.) I pursued the ' same course as before ; out this time they refused to 1 allow my objections, and were advised by their clerk to issue a distraint upon my goods. Being determined not to pay it. I employed Mr. Copeland, a solicitor, to appear l'or me, who succeeded in ousting their jurisdiction. I w.so then cited before the Ecclesiastical Court, and Iwent to London, intending to appear personally in answer thereto ; but, calling upon the Secretary to the Church-rate Abolition Society for advice, he persuaded me to abandon this plan. I accordingly took no notice 1 of the citation, and on the 16th of January last, I was arrested for contempt of Court. My family were waiting dinner for me, when I was captured by the officer close to my own door, and hurried of to gaol without being allowed to eat a morsel. About a fortnight after .my committal, I applied for leave for my wife to visit sae on Sundays, she having to attend to the business, and to work bard during the week, and of course not being able to leave home any other day without great incon venience. After waiting five weeks in surpen se, I re ceived a denial to this request, and also to one for my friends to be allowed to stay past four o'clock. The only indulgence I could procure was that my supper might be sent ; but lest my wife should get a glimpse of me, they would not allow her to bring it to the prison gal`e• 1 When I had been here about fifteen weeks, I applied ' to the Governor for leave to stand at a small window in front of the gaol at the top, where 1 . could see my friends pass to chapel on the Sabbath morning. This was granted, but the first time I ap peared there, I was recognized by some friends who, in passing inquired after my health. Upon this I was accused of ' creating an uproar,' and was removed to my old quarters. I wrote to the Magistrates for an inquiry into the facts of the case, and afterwards to Lord John Russell, stating the circumstances, but received no re . ply. And on perceiving that his Lordship had repeated the accusation against me in the House of Commons in still stronger terms, I wrote to him again, informing him of the utter falsehood of what he had said, and praying for an inquiry, being afraid my character might suffer if these calumnies were allowed to remain uncon tradicted. My request was, however, still refused. Through the kindness of my sincere mad zealous friend, Mr. Childs, I was afterwards removed by habeas corpus to London ; but the application made to the Cour c in my behalf having failed, I was again brought back to prison. Since this time I have been troated more kindly ; my wife is allowed to visit me on th e Sunday, and an extension of the time on week-days .ho,s been ranted me, for which comforts I feel thankfui l to the Giver of all good. I forbear to trouble you with any further detail of the treatment I have received' from Churchwardens and Sheriffs, and Magistrates, or of what my dear wife has had to contend with, but will conclude this long, and, I fear, tedious letter, by en treating the prayers of the friends of religious liberty in Leicester that my faith fail not I " And beg to subscribe myself, your's sincerely, " JOHN THOROGOOD." " P.S. The churchwardens applied at my house on the 6th instant (last Wednesday) for another rate_ My wife told them she should not pay it ; and al though I have suffered much from illness during my I ' confinem en t, my determination is stronger than ever,— , never t o pay! ~ tThe auditory listened to this simple and touching epistlewith d eep an d earnest at t en ti on an d sympa thy, manifested th e i r a pp rova l o f th e d e t erm i na tion expressedn it, the concludi n g s entence by g e ne r a l an d enthusiastic che er i n g Mr. Miall then resumed In wh a t age : -- of the ] world, Mr. Chairman, in what of th e globe, ado we five, * that our ears ' are an noyed and o ur hearts pierced by a t a l e of persecu tion and cruelty such as this ? I s thi s , one m i g ht be tempted to ask, and al reuteives, -- cati this be th e almost to discr e dit th e answer he middle of th e n i ne t een th cen tury,--,-an age in which s cience takes her range to t h e and ex t re me limits of time sp ace fo; and ar t i s erec ti ng , o ver the length and bread th the la n d, th e mos t s tupendous monuments of her successful power, and philosophy is busied in exploring the very , ery foundations of political governmen t ; and knowledge is " running to and fro ;" au,d Christianity is awaking from in the sl ee p of centuries ! Is this England, " merry l England was wont to be called—" Enlightened Encriaaacid ?"as .it as alit proudly prefer to designate it ; the boasted haunt of liberty ; the abode of just and impartial law ; t h e favourite sanctuary of the mild, the benign, the ' peace-loving and peace-giving religion of Jesus v , —(Hear, hear.) How is it, Sir, that this dark deed, this atrocious violation ofsrvery principle of Chris tianity, of every dictate of reason, and of every sentiment of humanity,—how is it, I ask, that this insult to God and man is not received as was Satan, when he reta:••ned to his compeers in 110;1 from his mission of destruction, with one universal hiss of scorn and loathing and exNtra tion ?-=-(Loud cheers.) How is it that the monster., persecution, the foul spawn of bigotry, begotten in dank ,ness, and nurtured into strength by all the malignan t p : osion s o f h uman nature, dares to lift up his hid eous f out, to the light of day, and unblush• .1 lk the land, cheered by the , • . state-fed priesthood ? ,‘ There's something rotten in (Cheers.) I rea d 1 , in„ y . sta through vociferous acclamations of a rea... n0t,,,, science ; I do not find ' the state of Sir, of Denmark.". persecutions by philosophy arming itself for i triumph, with thumb-screws and fetters, with fire and sword. They at all events cannot be accused of the glaring absurdity of attempting to bend reason by physical force, or wrenching thought into a prescribed groove, by the application of torture and the misdi rection of civil power. It is only, Sir, in religion, where thought should be as free as the air we breathe, where obedience, unless spontaneous, is a uvwkery to heaven, and where feeling should well - up from the depths of the soul, and flow forth unguided except by the hand of God ;—it is only in religion, that we find man's intellectual and moral powers subjected to the humiliation of coercive and sanguinary laws. What meddling, what officious, what tyrannical body origi nated those laws, and still applies them The Church ? 0 ! let us not desecrate a name so sacred No, Sir, it not the Church, if by that term of de signation be meant the great body of the faithful. No, Sir ! it is a thing that has usurped the title,—a thing of earthly parentage, greedy of wealth, ambi tious of power, decke d in the tricker y of worldl y ho hours, the mere cre ation of princes, —a thi n g w hich destitute of the vestments of piety, pompously wraps ' .around it, to conceal its nakedness, the cloak of apostolical succession —(Cheers)—a thing that simu lates Christianity for political purposes, in all ages the Pander to oppressors, and the jackal to worldly might and the powers that be—(loud applause)—in one word, an Establishment. Its howl is for prey—its office to lure the people into the fangs of political power, and its reward Mammon I This, Sir, and not the Church—this, the puppet of those who would enslave the nation—this is the magicians that calls the spirit of persecution from the vasty deep. Chris tianity washes her hands of the foul imputation, It is a libel, a base libel upon her heavenly pretensions.— (Hear, hear.) 1 When, Sir, will the eyes of this great nation be opened ? when will the spell that seals up their vision be dissolved? When will men " read _ _ and learn, and inwardly digest" the lesson which this Establishment is every day dinning into their ears, with a zeal and pertinacity worthy of better success ? Crime may increase, and the Establishment stirs not ; ignorance may abound, and she utters no cry ; poverty may fill the land, but still she is silent ; dens of sen suality may start up in every village with frightful rapidity, but she makes no complaint, it concerns not her. Slavery may immolate its victims by myriads, war may drain the land of wealth and blood, but the .Establishment sees no cause for alarm, none what ever for interference.—(Hear, hear.) But the moment tithes in Ireland are menaced, or Church-rates in England denounced and refused, then, she starts up fix) haste, becomes instinct with life and activity— she " cries aloud and spares not ;"—she makes "the welkin ring" with her shouts—" The Church is in danger"—and conjures up the twin-phantoms of infi delity and Popery to divert the attention and screen from the eyes of men her own pretensions.—(Hear, hear, and laughter.) Who does not perceive that Dissent is, in her judgment, a crime worse than im rmorality, and to withhold a fraction of her pecuniary cle lints, worthy of severer punishment than felony itself? Sir, this is no fiction, it is a sad reality. She hag: shot by dozens her tithe recusants in Ireland— awl in England, besides her frequent seizures of pro perty, she has imprisoned John Thorogood for life, for conscientiously withholding a paltry pittance of her unrighteous claims—Yes ! for life !—(Hear, hear.) The upright, exemplary, and pious, Nonconformist, mid it as well look to Shylock to tear up his bond, as to the Establishment to quit her hold upon him. If ever he come forth from his lonesome dungeon, pub- Ilcopinion must drag him thence, for the Establish ment provides no way of egress. She has no mercy kr criminals of his stamp. The pickpocket has his term of punishment and it ceases. The swindler, the housebreaker, the homicide, may be allowed to look ►orward to the expiration of their several periods of confinement. But the man who dares to obey the dictates of his own conscience in opposition to the fiat of the State priesthood, and who is bold enough to prefer duty to his Master in Heaven to oppressors on earth, that man must never again taint society with his presence. Tear him from his family—drive him from his friends—ruin his prospects—shut him up in a gaol—heap every indignity upon him that ingenious malice can devise—all, all is too little to feed the insatiable vengeance of an Establishment. To all other cruelties, she is not content unless she adds despair.—(Expressions of great indignation.) Whilst a glimmer ot_hope remains to cheer the solitary prisoner, she is unsatisfied—therefore, with a n - -finemeni cf bar barism peculiar to Ecclesiastical Courts, she renders his imprisonment perpetual.—(Shame, shame.) Oh, that ever this great nation should be able to endure the in sult ! that ever the men of England could listen to this wrong sad not feel the tingle of shame in every vein, the burning blush of honest indignation overspread every feature of the countenance, and not swear by the outraged genius of their country, that the abomination shah exist no longer.—( Loud and continued cheering.) " Age, thou art shamed 1 Rome, thou hut lost the breed , of noble bloods." 'know not, Sir, to what cause the thing is to be as cribed, but certain it is, that this case seems, by some unconquerable fatality, to be doomed to neglect. Men who are wont to pay a spontaneous and deserved tribute of respect to our ancestors—whose eloquence seems to kindle into enthusiasm when they touch upon the heroic deeds and patient sufferings of the Noncon formists of a former day, and who are loud in their ad vocacy of equal rights and equal liberties to all men, have no voice for the 'devoted Thorogood !—(Hear, hear.) Where was O'Connell, the exultant champion of the voluntary principle ? Where the eloquent tongue and fervid declamation of Shiel, the tithe-recusant of Ireland ? Where the impetuous Macaulay, who has so well drawn the picture of the Round heads of old ? Is all their love of freedom, their admiration of principle, their detestation of the wrong which one man perpetrates upon another when he would force his conscience—is it :11 gone as soon as the case is transferred from ancient to modern times ? Does tyranny affect them the less because it is done at their very door ? Can they feel only for the distant and the dead ? But I check myself, Sir—l do wrong, perhaps, thus to interrogate men whose names we have all been wont to revere.—(Hear.) The case certainly would not have been an unbecoming one in their hands, would not have disgraced their con fessedly splendid powers—but it devolved not in the first instance upon them. Others are far more deeply implicated. Where were the Dissenters in the House, Baines, their reputed leader, Hawes, Hindley, and the rest?—(Hear, hear.) Who ever heard an expres sion of their disgust? What were the symptoms of their impatience ? At what period of the Session are we to look for their indignant remonstrance or earnest appeal or cordial advocacy ? The truth is not to be concealed. They played with the case egr_egiously, trifled with the outside of it , to amu se the Dissenters and make a show of doing something. They skinned over the wound without attempting to probe it ; they dishonoured themselves, and they betrayed us.—(Hear, hear.) Still, sir, the whole weight of our censure must not alight in this quarter. The blame must be shared 'by many. Our metropolitan churches are especially at fault.—(Hear, hear.) One might have imagined that the news of Thorogood's imprisonment would have aroused the most apathetic and awakened the most sleepy. Surely it would not have been too much to have expected some prompt and vigorous and determined effort on the part of the leading Dis senters of that vast city. There would have been no thing inconsistent, nothing ungraceful, nothing unbe coming their sacred office, if, on behalf of injured conscience and persecuted piety, the Ministers of the Gospel had gathered themselves together, mustered in hot haste their respective forces, nerved their resolution and gone up to the Council Chamber or the Senate, with a remonstrance firm and bold enough, but withal respectful, to have made even their spiritual oppressors quail and blanch.—(Loud cheers.) This, Sir, so far from impeding the greater ends of their calling, would, in my hnmble opinion, have raised them in the respect of every thinking, every feeling member of the corn munity. But alas I Sir, under the influence of some unintelligible spell, they regarded the wrong, at least so far as we may judge from any public effort, with the most stolid indifference ; and the captive for conscience sake was left to pine away unnoticed and unknown ! (Murmurs of indignation.) They, however, might have pleaded that " whatever is everybody's business is nobody's." Not so, however, the much-vaunted Society for Religious Freedom which had been recently ushered into the world with a flourish of trumpets. They could have no excuse. Here was a noble opportunity for this new-born offspring of metropolitan zeal to prove to the Dissenting world its yet untested strength, and lay broad and deep the foundations for future respect and confidence. And what did this far-famed insti tution do ? Why, Sir, it dined, made a little splutter, and then went to sleep !—(Laughter and expressions of derision.) Would that I could stop here. Would that the guilt of neglecting those who are in bonds had extended no further ! Alas I the apathy has been general, all but universal. The martyr for re ligious liberty entered his lonesome cell, cheered, doubtless, by the hope that the sacrifice of himself would stir up the slumbering energies of the Dis senting community and that they would be roused by the blow which levelled him in the dust. Months pass over the head of the hapless prisoner—but still there are no signs of awakening in the public mind. Asso ciations meet ; but he is not thought of. Ministers gather together ; but express nu sympathy for him. Ruined in circumstances, torn froin his family, debi litated in health, sinking into the tomb ; oh! what t must he that man's estimate of the spirit and charac of ter attachment in sorrow of these for whom he is going dcnyn to his grave en c t an te ea p s r. i i l n y eiple sorrow ! th imagine an that he, by the " hope deferred which maketh the hear:, sick, and disgusted with worn rn m Ou n t: the more than lukewarmness of the body for whos e i would abjure Dissent,nterests he has yielded all be has, quit for ever th e ranks of half hearted Nonconformity , erseeut a o a r d s Had a lasting peace with his former p case , loud would have b een the condemnation sueh been th e of Th or ogood, and many who h a d h es i tate d to praise his consistency, would have been forward to blame his deviation from principle.—(ifear, hear.) But I must draw to a close, regretting most deeply the ne- 1 cessity which has compelled me to adopt so querulou < , a tone. To Leicester, I am proud to believe, few of these remarks can properly apply. Leicester has many reasons, in common with the country at large, to " remember those who are in bonds, as bound with them." But we have, over and above what will apply to others, one cause for deeply sympathising with poor Thorogood, inasmuch, as it is not at all improbable, ere the week closes, that our own gaol will receive another martyr (alluding to the Chairman) to the question of Church-rates.—(Cries of" No, no," "Shame, shame ;" and a general expression of sympathy fur, Mr. Baines, and indignation towards his persecutors.) Well be it so! In the present position of affairs I can but wish that the Ecclesiastical Courts may multiply its victims and Ecclesiastical officers levy distraints, until the evil becomes intolerable. Then. at last, the Dissenters will feel the importance of brushing the nuisance away combining their now sauntering and scattered forces, they will go unitedly and with determination to the Legislature of the country —they will enumerate their sufferings, they will bring forth their strong arguments, and they will conclude al; with what no Minister, though backed by the whole Aristocracy, and the Bench, could withstand, " Settle this question at once, or we will settle it for ourselves. The Rev. Gentleman concluded by moving the first re solution, and sat down amid loud and general applause. After the cheering had subsided, The Rev. T. F. NEWMAN rose and said—Ladies and Gentlemen, or, as I would rather say, Men and Women—for it is a question of humanity, and not of gentility—a question of justice, of religious liberty, one which appeals to the common principles of liberty and humanity in every generous bosom-1 should be ashamed of the appellation of a Christian, if I declined to second this resolution. I have to con fess, for one, as a very obscure member of the Dis senting body, that I have not adequately felt on this subject ; that I have not sympathised as I ought to have done with the sufferer ; that my feeling on Lis behalf has not been sufficiently intense ; that my in dignation towards the oppressors, and my feeling for the martyr, who braved every danger rather than for a moment sacrifice his principle—have not been what they should. Let this, then, be the hour of confession ; and though all do not confess orally, I think we may all unite in the admission that we have not entered with sufficient intensity of feeling it to this question. It may well be asked whether thi , England, where the rights of conscience are salts f be respected, and where men are told that, whatev may be their peculiar religious opinions, they may ~ ercise them freely. Is it possible that we are livid.,, a land where the blood of the martyred, ages .:.; flowed in streams ; the land of men who resolved t' lives should be the sacrifice, rather than that, for , moment, their cheeks should be blanched with fe or their hearts quail before the oppressor?—(Lo; cheers.) That blood, I trust, is, even yet, as s springing up, to produce a noble army, who will i cease from the contest till these Ecclesiastical Con , - . with all their train of evils and abominations, s!, have been swept away, to be known no more for ever (Loud cheers.) lam utterly unprepared to give ut t, r anee to the feelings which have been awakened wil. : my breast, by the address to which I have listened ; 1,.... especially by the letter coming from the prisoner him, to those who sympathise with him in his solitary c :, and by some expressions of whose sympathy that may yet be cheered. That letter reached the ve centre of my moral being. Altogether unstudio: , simple, mild, and uncomplaining, it breathed 1 e very spirit of genuine Christianity, and the calm c'e,- fidence of a man whose mind is made up to tee event, and who is resolved that, if he must fall e, defence of religious liberty, fall he will.—(He, e-. hear.) If he does fall, Mr. Chairman, an a 0 is coming when his name shall be more venerw sd than now ; when the history, not of his deeds, but of his endurance,—the history, not of his achieveuve. in the field of debate or of battle, but of his impris- e went, shall serve as a beacon, if need be, to that mite. . army which is advancing to the support of the gr, .t cause of religious freedom, and to the overthrow everything inimical to the rights of conscience, and t , liberties of men.—(Loud cheers.) We are genera; accustomed to associate chains and dungeons with ti. ,, idea of some injury sustained by our fellow-men, ti...m the individuals subjected to them, but, Sir, in this ea: , we have to connect suffering of mind, a wasted coo- tution, ruined prospects, a sorrowing wife, and weepie,. children, not with deeds of darkness, but with the ft of less maintenance of p-inciples, dear to God, though ne ti on earth, his puny creatures, trample them under foe,:. --(llear, hear.) I had not arranged my thoughts, er prepared myself to address this assembly, but I could not let pass the opportunity afforded me to express the ardent feelings of my heart.—(Loud cheers.) Toe re solution was then put and unanimously adopted. Tne Rev. G. LEGGN, then rose and said, Mr. Chairman, Ladies, and Gentlemen,—Mr. Thorogeod, as you have beard, is a thorough good man, and in every way an estimable member of society, a member also of t 1 ,,, Church of God, characterized by " whatsoever things ,r,. pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report ;" a man of steadfast principle. This i' s',"J has been dragged from his relatives and friends, to. off from " his sweet home," deprived of all the privi leges of God's world and of God's Church, and i.n mused in a dungeon, in proximity, if not in actual as sociation with thieves, traitors, and murderers.—(Hair. hear.) Ten long months have rolled over his head. Short they may have appeared to us amidst our various pleasures and avocations ; but not so to him. Sp: ieg awoke, but he saw not its freshness ; summer shone he beheld not its loveliness ; autumn arrived, he tasted not its joy ; and now winter is approaching to add its gloom to the solitude and weariness of his existence. From time to time the gratification of seeing his be loved wife, or a faithful friend, has irradiated the gloom of his dungeon ; but when they have departed, there must have been on his eye, in his heart, " a darkness that might be felt." Now he finds his foes fl.eaee and unrelenting, his friends lukewarm and cold, its business falling o f his health suffering, and his family exposed to poverty—is it, after thus suffeeine the loss of all things ; is it matter of surprise that le ! should be cast down ? The iron of oppression has 'e!-- gun to enter into his soul.—(Hear, hear.) His spins are sinking, his health is breaking down, and, if tie sly aid be not rendered, John Thorogood will descend ee o the grave. We may be asked, " Why is this ? sVI,y is such a man thus suffering ?" The answer is—" The man has a conscience." It may suit Lord John Rusell, in his place in Parliament, to his deep disgrace, to sower at conscience.—(Hear.) It may suit Justice Gurney (Groans and hisses) —it may become him—a renegade Dissenter—(Hisses) —on the bench he occupies, end which ought to extend its protection equally to all, to throw out his sarcasms at the consciences of Dissenters. It may suit Churchmen, great and small, who swallow the Book of Common Prayer, the Thirty-nine Articles. and the Athanasian Creed—(Laughter)—it may suit them, too, to mock at the consciences of Dissenters—aye, and it may suit some Dissenters too—white-liveried, pig on hearted, addle-headed, power-worshipping, rank-admir ing, money-loving, knee-cringing, mealy-mouthed, lick spittle Dissenters—(Loud laughter and eheers)—it may suit such as they to sneer at the consciences of other Dissenters ; but I am sure there is not an indi vidual here who will echo the sneer.—(Cheers.) How ever these may sneer about conscience, there is sie!h a thing, and John Thorogood has rightly exempied its power. He feared God more than man. He would not sanction a system which, calling itself apostolic, branded him and his minister as vile schismatics, guilty of a crime worse than drunkenness. He would not give his sanction to a system which, in its union with the State, is the master-piece of hell—(Loud cheers) —which is pervaded by the spirit of Anti-Cl, rist ; which, while arrogating to itself the exclusive p2,ses sion of Christianity, has left the greater part of the land in worse than heathen darkness—(Hear) — the fountain of all infidel principles ; the great ob stacle to the progress of true religion ; the fosterer of all feuds amongst the disciples of Jesus.(Cheers.) It has been said of John Thorogood's case, " It was in the the j ply ss. 6d., why did he not p a y it ?" Only a few g rains of incense were required of the primitive Christian, e save r apwospoef wouldthe Lion,hal,e onlysavedanUt moia or him a cr edo f. oni timer from the flames. B u t th e p r i m itiv e a , o t e Christians would not fling those few grains neon the altar of the idol ; Latimer would not repeat the " credo ;" and John Thorogood would not pay his .ss. 6d.—(Cheers.) He would not thus giv a lis sanction to what he esteemed to be wrong. H,! felt that, by paying even this small sum, he should be surrene dering his manhood, and giving up his Christianity, therefore he would not do it ; and therefore he lies, to this day, in Chelmsford gaol, and, for aught that ap pears to the contrary, may lie, until he is dead. (Expressions of sympathy.) The question has been asked to night, " Where are we ; in what quarter of the globe do we live ?" In some places, such proceedings as these would not have been surprising. The Id alio medan enforces obedience to the laws of his ,Pro phet by the sword ; the Emperor of China do' g the of fo use Scotland. e a s n e d a p same with the religion of Fo ; the Queen of Ma dagascar has recently told all the world her o e :eion upon the same subject, by driving out the Mi-iien aries, and putting to death all who persist in beliiing the doctrines of Christianity. But that these L. togs should take place here, might well be disbelieved. .\ ,T e know the time—even here—when such things eyrsiit, have been perpetrated with impunity, duriets the reigns cf brutal Henry, " bloody 2dary," and ",;eod escaped Ts withhe hell-hounds imprisonmentth e ir l i. and;7a s t: . , i i Queen Bets." We have not forgotten the Steeres,--- the Star Chamber and High Commiision Co -ts— were the victims of p i ,' " 4 " the days of Laud and Strafford—nor the pro- - iof Jefferies through this country, or that of tbe ):. ~11 then, lands C lave r noses, mutilated ears, or disjointed limbs ' however, are gone by, an d , - , h ag ate i l i le t . hey Happy times, we stn. imagined that all such proceedings had le , an end to. After the " glorious" revolution 01' after Catholic Emancipation and the repeal , IHE SUN, LONDON, THURSDAY, 'LcOVEMBER 21, 11839• Test and Corporation Acts ; after Parliamentary and Municipal Reform, we should have imagined that we should each of us have sat " under our own vine and fig tree, noue daring to make us afraid ;" and yet here is John Thorogood,—because he would not sit under the Vicar's fig tree and pay for the fruit of his vine—cast into gaol.—(Shame.) And this is the civil and religious liberty of the year 1839,—the second or third year of our Most Gracious Queen Vic toria.—(Hear, hear.) I ask, is this state of things to be allowed to continue ? Are we still to submit to these Ecclesiastical Courts ? I ask this question, and I beg to say for once, that I ask this question as a " Political Dissenter."—(Loud cheers.) They taunt us with being political Dissenters. I say, for once, I take this question, and stand upon it as a political Dissenter.—(Cheers.) Leaving conscience, then, out of the question, are we thus to be tyrannized over, are we thus to be coerced ? Shall we, who inherit the principles of Hampden, of Prytne, of Milton, and of Bunyan—shall we be content to be tyrannized over and oppressed by the successors of Laud, of Strafford, of Jefferies, of Sacheverel.—(No, no.) I speak as a Scotch man.—(Cheers.) I speak as a Scotchman, and with something in me of the Cameronian blood—(Great cheer ing)—that made Scotland too hot for the King and his Bishops.—(Loud applause.) And, Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen, as the descendants of the men of Leicester, of whom many of you heard last Monday evening ;* I speak to you, men of Leicester, as the descendants of those who resisted to the death the King and all his cavaliers, and his clergy to boot.—(Loud cheers.) I appeal to you, because you are worthy of your ancestors ; because I believe you are sprung " Of earth's best blood, with titles manifold." I say then, that, as political Di ssen t ers , we t a k e up this matter. An unjust law must be passively defied ; an un-English enactment must be constitutionally re pealed. There is one other aspect of the question I dare not touch.—(Go on, go on.) It is one, I say, which I dare not touc h. All this is done in the name of religion—in the nam e o f Ch r i s ti an ity—i n the name and under the authority of Jesus and his apostles ! I dare not—l need not touch upon it be • fore this audience. It is no new thing, and you are aware of it, for Satan to be " transformed into an angel of light." You can see, through all their pretences, the cloven foot. Our appeal in this mat ter is from you to another court —" How long, 0 Lord, holy and true—wilt thou not avenge ?" Mr. Chairman, the resolution calls upon us to sympathize with the principles for which Thorogood is im prisoned. This lam sure you all do in your " heart of hearts." I am sure he does not envy—enjoying, as he does the approbation of his conscience—l am sure that, in his narrow cell, he does not envy his per secutors, amidst all their luxury and pomp ; and I feel satisfied that the time is coming when they shall wish to occupy the same position with him and shall not be able.—(Loud cheers.) I trust there will go forth from this meeting a voice that will startle even the men of Chelmsford—the calves of Essex, as they ire generally called—from their deep and inglorious case ; I trust there will emanate - from it an appeal that will reach the silken courtiers of Victoria, and convince even then: " that it is high time to awake 'out of sleep." I Mr. Legge then moved the second resolution, and sat down amidst loud and continued cheering. _ The Rev. J. GOADBT rose and said, Ladies any Gentlemen,—l hope I shall be excused if I make bu a short speech, especially when I tell you that I shal he succeeded by one to whose thrilling eloquence you have often listened with admiration.—(Cheers.) It appears to me, as we have so frequently heard the cry of " Justice to Ireland," we should now raise that of " Justice to Dissenters !"—(Hear, hear.) And we should be content with no less.—( Hear.) We hold it to he the inalienable right of every man to worship God according to the dictates of his own conscience— and there is such a thing as conscience after all— (Hear, hear)—and we maintain that those who endea vour to coerce it, whether they call themselves " Christ's Vicar upon Earth," or an " Apostolic Establishment," are guilty not only of treason against the dignity of hu man nature, but treason against God himself. You have just as much right to compel another man to pay for your religion, as to force him to pay for your physician, your lawyer, or your draper, and no more. We only -sant Churchmen to let us alone. They say we west to pull down the Church. We say to them, "No ! we want you to keep it up. We only want you to pay for your own religion yourselves, and keep your hands out of our pockets.—( Loud cheers.) If this is not jus tice, what is ?—( Hear, hear.) Pay for your religion, and we will pay for ours."—(Cheers.) We think it a most monstrous injustice to be compelled to pay For a religion that we neither approve of nor en joy. Our friend Mr. Legge has told you that con science is sneered at. Those who thus act do so be cause they have not got a conscience. —( Hear, hear.) At least not an enlightened conscience.—( Hear, bear.) The very existence of an Establishment supposes that they who support it do not pretend to keep a conscience. —(Cheers.) We first ask for justice politely, but they disregard us. We then tell them that we will not submit to their demands, and then they turn round upon us in a fury, worthy of the place from whence it comes, and the cause which it advocates, and abuse us with every name which the vocabulary of the Prince of Darkness can supply.—(Hear.) Can such men keep a conscience ? No ! We tell them we don't mean to pay for their religion. Then they seize our goods, or put us in prison. Can these men, then, afford to keep a conscience ? No more than the highwayman.—( Hear, hear.) There is as much conscientious and just feeling in the heart of an highwayman, when he stops me on the road, and demands my money, as there is in any Bishop, Priest, or Churchwarden—(Hear, beta) —who comes and distrains on my goods for Church rates.—(Loud cheers.) Besides, if a man meets me on the road, I can take a look at him, and see whether it will be wise to encounter him or not ; as the sailor said when his money was demanded, " I fought for it ; and if you havd it, you must fight for it ;" but we cannot adopt this course against the law. Look at the case of Thorogood. This is an illustration of an ecclesiastical conscience. For !Ss. 6d. which he was not willing to be plundered of, it not only put him into a dungeon, but compels him to remain there till death.— (Expressions of execration.) One thing is clear ; that, when we cannot trust to the common honesty of our neighbours, we must devise rayons to compel them to be honest. If the Churchwardens had been influenced by conscientious and just motives, they would have said, " We will never attempt to enforce a rate from those who conscientiously object to pay it." If they had had a conscience, this is the course they would have adopted. And because they have no conscience we want to have the law so altered, as to prevent them from oppressing us.—( Cheers.) When I was a boy I was very fond of reading a work of Bunyan's. Bunyan, you know, was a prisoner twelve years in Bedford gaol, for conscience sake—and I have read it since I have been grown up with increasing interest. Bunyan, after describing his pilgrim as going through many dangers and perils, represents him as pass ing by a cave, the entrance of which was strewed with the blood, bones, and ashes of former pilgrims. This cave was inhabited by two giants, whom he calls Pope and Pagan. He goes on to say that the latter has been dead for sonly time ; as fOr the former —(and by Pope we are to utiderstaud all ecclesiastical establishments) —though he is still alive, yet by rea son of age, and many shrewd brnshes which he got in his youth, he is grown so crazy and stiff in his joints, that he can only sit and grin at the pilgrims as they go by, biting his nails because he cannot come at them. I believe the said Pope is the English Church. The very descent of which the English Church boasts, and the claims which are so pompously set forth by the Oxford Divines are from this said Pope.—(Hear, hear.) All I want with regard to a man w ho cannot keep a conscience is, that such measures should be taken as will leave him to grin at our conscience and nothing more.—(Cheers and laughter.) And when he can only grin, then he may do so as long as he likes.--(Cheers.) If Church rates are to be done awav with, Dissenters must do it.—(Hear, hear.) No T ory Government will do it. Lord Melbourne, in his silk gown and silver slippers, will never think of doing it. The Dissenters must do it themselves. Go, you that can go, to Vestry and Church-rate meetings, and *appose this exaction. You, who have no other means, pits sively resist this unjust law by suffering the distraint of :your goods. Some will go further, and go to prison.—(H ear.) I think Thorogood's is not a course which we shoe ,ld all follow, but we should all do what we can to procure the abolition of this law. What is the spirit of those wh o carry this law into effect ? You can easily p erce i ve that the spirit which sent if it him there, and keeps hi m th ere , is th e same which woad, had the power, re -li g ht th e fires of Smithfield. Their conscience is like that of Be >nner, who could not enjoy his dinner till he had heard of the mar tyrdom of some godly man. Th at i s a Churchman's conscience.— , (Hear, hear.) Is there a strain here who has a vote for a Member of Parliament I ? Give it not to that man who will not oppose Chur ch-rates.—(Cheers.) If he will not take this course, I et him renounce our cause for ever. Is th ere a man w h o w ill yield to the trickery of townsmen, .eevery ranks— (Hear, Dissenter leave us ' • and then we shall do the work ourselves. H e w h o does ; not think with us, let him leave us ; and then there will be enough of us left. The conding ßev .Genthtleemreasnalcuotinacal, whip;ude hamwiads put, and unanimously loud cheers, by se . 1, e ,tr whiche a ° g u t: d agreed to. The Rev. J. P. M uasEt said, it was unnecessary ' for him, after wh a t th e me t sting had heard, to say much touching oni o none the gt liona o occupy which had the ecalled thoughts o themt together--a question as t, ich, in his opinion, Wal the friends of freedom th roe l obout the country.--(Hear.) He could not bring his mind to place the topic im mediately before the me ring on a level with the orcii "vary secular and politi c 1 1 questions of the day,—o s the slime footing with an Extension of the Suffrage, Vote by Ballot, and Trienni. d Parliaments. Important as these and their kindred subjects might be, that which Alluding to Mr. Ho (linos' lecture on the histo , y Leicester during the civi I wars; when the town held out the strongly for the Parliamet st —Ed. L. M. 4:' had assembled them that evening was more im- portant still. It assumed to his mioci grayer charac ter and was associated with more sacred and vital con siderations. It not only affected the conventional but the religious interests of men. He should, however, be prepared, with a previous speaker, to try that question with their opponents on merely political ground ; and, if there were no other, should be perfectly satisfied to leave it there, and would be bound to show the validity of their objections to Church -rates, even on these inferior premises. They were told that their example, if it were generally followed, would throw everything into confusion, and render it impossible to carry on, with any propriety, the legislation of the country. If you object to Church-rates (their adversaries might say,) another may object to some other tax, and a third take exception to a further, until there were no laws left, and men would consult their own whims, and run about like wild goats of the forest. In reply, it should be remembered that the subject had a perfect right to take exception against any law he was • called upon to obey, and freely to express, and peaceably to discuss the grounds of his exception, for if men were to be perse cuted for their opinions, where was the boasted freedom of Britain ? If the objections raised were•unreasonable and factious, they would fail to convince others ; if they were reasonable and just, the objectors might have their approbation and secure their co-operation: But, in ad dition to this, let them bear in mind that all sound legal regulations were framed with a view to the general good ; and that as all inherited their benefits, each was justly expected to support them. As for instance—if arrange ments were made to guard our coasts and to maintain peace and order in our country, all were equally inter ested, and all in equity should assist in bearing the pe cuniary burden. But the impost which they were met to discountenance, was laid to support an ex clusive body. Thousands derived no benefit from it, while in their opinion, the country was incal culably injured by it. The argument—the very just argument, in favour of general political or legisla- . _ tive regulations, which was founded on the univer sality of their aspect, did not, therefore, apply in the case before them. There could surely be no fitness in levying payments from a whole people in the support . _ of arrangements which affected only a part.—(Hear.) They might as well expect him to pay the taxes for the . _ _ . _ _ carriage in which his neighbour rode. But beside the political inconsistency of Church -rates, they were alto gether a gratuitous and unnecessary exaction. The parties who took money from them in this way, had no valid plea, could make no fair appeal to their benevolence . . or their pity.—(Hear, hear.) They were not so very poor, so badly off in this life as not to be able to afford to bear their own ecclesiastical expenses—they could surely find money for the support of charities, as well as for the keeping open of theatres—they might as easily pay for their more serious engagements as for their lighter amusements—they might as well coerce them to help them in the one case as in the other. But it must ever lie as a weighty and insuperable argument against these exactions, that they were a daring invasion of the rights of conscience. —(Loud cheers.) On this point he had been anticipated by the appropriate and pun gent remarks of Mr. Legge. He had intended al luding to a gentleman, once a Dissenter, who had recently been raised to the Judicial Bench, and who, as he ascended the steps which conducted him to it, bowed obsequiously to the Bishops. They might have given this man credit for conscientiousness in changing his religious opinions and position, had he not prevented them, to his undying disgrace, by sneer- ing at the rights of conscience from the judgment seat itself, where all high and honourable minds have been used to do homage to its chaste and holy prero gative.—(Loud cheers.) But, perhaps, desperate as it was, it was the only consistent course which the Learned Judge could pursue, and the only possible ex- planation or apology he could offer for his own beha viour. It would be well, however, if these notiens re latise to conscience, only darkened and degraded as in this painful instance the judicial bench ; but there were not wanting men, who in the parlour and the drawing room, could cast forth their jeers on these matters, and affect to despise the man, who for conscience' sake, could be immured in the common prison, when by pay ing a few shillings, he might walk out of it. Such fanaticism to them was perfectly unintelligible. It was altogether a burlesque on these enlightened times. Let these reasoners understand that there were other great principles of human action beside self-interest and expediency—(Cheers)—that there were high and vital considerations which fell within the hallowed range of moral obligation with which, perchance, even they might not be familiar, and that it was because John Thorogood, and those who thought and felt with him, chose to prefer these principles of action, and these higher considerations to the maxims of society or the laws of men, that they repudiated those imposts whose tyranny they were met that even ing to expose. But there remained still stronger ground of objection to these obnoxious rates—they were levied to support a system which was diametrically opposed to the kingdom of the Son of God. On this high and awful ground be took his stand. They called no man Master in the great interests of religion. " They had one Master, even Christ." Thrones, Parliaments, Sy nods, tradition, were of no authority with them touching ho " great things of God's law ;" their only appeal was to the Scripturrs of revealed truth. Believing secular establishments to be opposed to the will of the only Spiritual Legislator, and altogether at variance with the genius of the kingdom of Christ, they could not con tribute to their support, and could never cease on these grounds, to protest against them. Here it was mani fest that many who were attached to liberal opinions could not side with them. Men who were not accus tomed to trouble themselves much about religious mat ters, and who, if they would be candid, would tell them that they cared as much about the kingdom of Christ as they did about the kingdom of Mohammed.— (Hear, hear.) But, however, he wished for one to be distinctly understood that this was the great reason with him for dissenting from the political Church, and for opposing all exactions which were levied in its favour. These, then, were some of the reasons for their con duct, In carrying them out they must not conceal from themselves that they had entered on an ardu. ous enterprize—that they had undertaken a great and difficult work. It would be well to take a hasty survey of the great contest, and to form a correct estimate of their own strength. There was, then, the High-Church party, who thought the secular power should throw its shield over the Christian faith. and that but for its pro tection it would wither and expire. A party to whom they awarded, as to all others, the right of private judg ment—a party whose opinions they had no wish to con demn any farther than argument and• truth might assist them—a party comprising a great portion of the rank and wealth of the empire—this large and influential body were determinately arrayed against them. Then there were those—and these by no means an inconsi derable number—distinguished, too, by their education, and generally enlightened opinions, who approved of the principle of establishments, but dissented from its exclu siveness, who thought that Governments should support religion ; only that it should favour all sects by an equal distribution of ecclesiastical funds—a most absurd and anomalous position, but one which, as far as it extended, separated its adherents from any consistent and earnest sympathy with the objects of that meeting. Next to these might be mentioned those who maintained that while it was the law that Church-rates should be levied, they ought, in all propriety to be paid—gentle men who never waited to inquire into the justice of the law, or if they did and admitted its injustice, fell into the egregious error of insulting and violating a great im mutable principle, from deference to a temporary and unrighteous regulation—these, however, by no means thinly-sprinkled over society, though not amongst its profoundest thinkers—were all set against them. Then came the devoted Ministerialists of the day, who though they entirely disapproved of these wretched exactions, thought it inexpedient to agitate the public mind about them lest it should perplex the Ministry ! But did these men see the position to which they were reducing themselves ? If they had a Tory Government, these sage advisers would say, 0 ! its foolish in the extreme to moot this question now I Stop till we have a Liberal Ministry, and then you may have some hope of success." Now we have the very Ministry they profess to admire we must not say anything on this subject lest we should tie these good men's legs—lest we should interfere with the freedom of their gait—we must not do our duty because the Cabinet won't like it. Last of all come those who think we are perfectly right and who wish us success ; but who shrink from the incon venience, the labour, the obloquy, the unpopula rity which consistency would involve—those who will take no part in the battle but that of sharing in its glory. Most virtuous men I the scum and offscouring of their species. With all these deductions, then, what had they left? Why a firm, ardent, intrepid band, positively numerous, though comparatively few, who were resolved not to abandon the work till it was accomplished. And while they had in their ranks such as he whose suffer ings they had come together to deplore and to meliorate —a man of unbending principle, of unflinching courage, and of untiring endurance—a man who uttered prayers instead of accusations, who breathed forgiveness in stead of malice, who asked the sympathies of his friends and the consideration of his foes—they should be mightier than their adversaries, greater than all the t could come against them. Whilst they had amongst them those who were ready to tread in his footsteps and sacrifice themselves as John Thorogood had done, on the high altar of religious freedom, they had no thing to fear. Such men did more to accelerate the great cause of liberty than all the speeches, argument and efforts of its firmest friends. He rejoiced to know that they had such an one in their midst that evening— one who was not to be driven from his integrity by the restless and insatiable hatred of his enemies—in a few days, it might be in a few hours, the doors of their os s ' c n local prison would be thrown open to receive anoti victim—yes, a peaceful, respectable , and honoured re sident of their own town, might presently be torn from his business and his family, and led to a dungeon, for the support of the Christian religion ! Might be inform that assembly that the writ for ,, Mr. Baines' arrest was now in Leicester, waiting only the deci. sion of some question in a metropolitan court before it was put into disgraceful execution ! And who were the foul perpretrators of this shameful deed ?—who, he asked, were behind the scenes ? were there no Clergy men, no upright Churchmen in this town, or no miser- . - able tools of an exasperated faction who must blush with shame ? Let them distinctly tell these men, that they were not wont to tremble before power ; that, in this sacred cause—the cause of innocence, of conscience, and of righteousness—they laughed at their chains, and defied their dungeons. Let them bid them to enlarge their prisons, and in the true spirit of their • system, delightedly to forge new manacles, and utter swelling threats. Let them with unfaltering tongue, assure these agents of tyranny that they were not to be eclipsed by the darkest episcopal frowns ; that they would not be abashed by the most resolute resistance of their adversaries, or the painful lukewarmness of their friends. Their path was open, and deliberately chosen, and in the dread name of God they would pursue it. But, so far from blaming, let them thank these men. They were doing their work for them. In their blind zeal they had snatched the standard of liberty from their hands and were hastily planting it on a citadel, to which the friends of freedom were climbing, with tedious, difficult, but persevering steps. These rash and bigoted Churchmen deserved the hearty applause of every consistent Dissenter. But they possibly thought that he whom they had marked out as the victim of their rage would draw back. No. He seemed to see him passing thoughtfully within the prison doors, exclaiming " none of these things move me." He could imagine him replying to the dastardly suggestions of enemies and compromising friends, as he entered his forlorn dungeon, " Whether it be right to hearken unto men more than unto God, judge - ye." He venerated the men who were willing to suffer in this glorious cause. A few more instances of such vile persecution and noble endurance, and the battle would be over—the victory must be won. By such means those secular establishments which nourished and sanctioned these enormities would be unsettled and destroyed the mightiest impediments to the spread of true religion would be cast down, and the great Son of God would hasten to his throne ex claiming, " Behold I create all things new." Let not their opponents mistake them. They did not expect this result to-morrow or next day ; but it was at hand, and the hateful persecutions of these days were ad vancing it. What though they might sleep in the dust, their children should enter into their labours, and see the parent of ecclesiastical despotism con veyed to a disgraceful tomb. He invoked the friends of this great cause to awake, to exert themselves in every legitimate way. They were about to place their petition at the foot of the throne, and he ear nestly wished it might avail. Should their amiable sovereign be left to the promptings of her own bene violent and excellent disposition—should she be unat tended by those who might pervert her intentions— should those dark shapes that too frequently flitted about thrones, and threw their equivocal shadows over their face, be kept in their own place—should her Majesty, aided only by the counsel of her wise and noble mother, act as the woman as well as the Queen, their prayer would be heard. But, whether or not, he invoked them so lemnly to unite with him in prayer to that Being by whom kings ruled and princes decreed justice ; who hated oppression, and who succoured the oppressed ; who " loved mercy rather than sacrifice ;" and while there was such a throne to which to appeal, they could never surrender hope. But as prayer without effort was presumption, he besought them not to be regulated by the customs of the times ; he prayed them to recollect that the smiles of men were more transient than the summer's ray. He implored them to discard all sickly refinement, and mawkish sentimentality ; all fear of their equals, and all subserviency to their superiors ; never to suffer principle to bend to rank, but to compel rank to bend to principle ; and in the name of humanity, of justice, and of religion, to set themselves to the over throw of that worst form of oppression—ecclesiastical tyranny. The Rev. T. MAYS, in rising to second the third resolution, said—Ladies and Gentlemen, when you see poor Irishmen going through your streets, with their wooden brogues, and in appearance as rough as their shillelahs, you may recollect that they are more free than you are. They have no Church-rates in Ireland. These things curse not their land.—(Cheers.) In this particular they have taken their station before us. We boast of our Nonconforming forefathers, in what light will our children look upon us. It remains for us to determine whether our children and our children's chil dren shall regard us as men following in the steps of such forefathers, and worthy to extend their names, and perpetuate their memory. I have heard to-day a ques tion from a lady—" Why should ladies be present ?" I will tell you the reason why they should be present — because we have before us, in part, the mothers of the coming generation, who are to train their minds, who are to form their characters.—(Hear, hear, hear.) It is incumbent on them that they should cultivate the principles of religious liberty within their own hearts, in order to implant them in the hearts of their children. Ladies, mothers, allow me to appeal to you. The question before you is one which appeals to your hearts, whether your children and your children's children shall be opposed to these Infernal ecclesiastical curses or not. Let these prin ciples be impressed daily on the minds of your children, that, when they stand by your graves, they may venerate your memory as the friends of liberty, of humanity, and of religion.—(Cheers.) I have great pleasure in second ing the resolution. The Rev. J. P. MuasEeL said—Reference has been made to a pecuniary effort on behalf of poor Thorogood. It is intended to raise a purse which, we hope, will not fall short of 501., however far it may go beyond that sum, and the subscription list will lie at Mr. Davis's during the week. C. R. EnmoNns, Esq., moved a vote of thanks to the chairman. Alderman CRIPPS seconded the motion. The Rev. E. MIALL said, I am sure, men and women of Leicester, that you will testify your respect for our esteemed friend Mr. Baines, by acclamation ; and I further suggest that you do so by standing up.—[The whole assembly here rose simultaneously, with a burst of enthusiastic and long-continued cheering, presenting a most imposing and magnificent appearance.] The CHAIRMAN said—ln returning thanks for the kindness which you have manifested towards me ; I assure you that I do so with perfect sincerity. It is quite impossible for me to give utterance to what I feel on this occasion ; but I cannot but express the high gratification which I have experienced in presiding over a meeting like the present. I am sure that if the highly respectable individual on whose account this meeting has been called, could have been present, it would have encouraged him to endure the solitude of his prison, even for ten months longer. We have heard it said by our opponents that the anti-Church-rate ardour in this town is cooling ; that we shall soon pay what is de manded of us, and become peaceable neighbours and good citizens.—(Laughter.) Would that such per sons were here to-night. I would simply direct their attention to the present meeting, and say, " Here is my argument, and your refutation."—(Cheers.) Your attention has been led to-night from Chelmsford to Lei cester.—(Hear, hear.) With reference to an indivi dual, with whose feelings I am somewhat acquainted, I may say that it is the wish of his persecutors, as well as the fear of some of his friends, that the building yonder (pointing in the direction of the Borough gaol), with its massive walls, and ponderous gates, may prostrate his moral courage to the ground, when he approaches it—(Murmurs of indignation)—but, from what I know of that individu.4l, and the support which he has hitherto received, I trust his moral cou rage will not fail—(Loud cheers)—but that he will enter into that prison, and there remain till he is let out. I again thank you most heartily for the manner in which this motion has been proposed, and in which it has been received. [The worthy Chairman sat down amidst loud and general cheering.] After a few moments pause, the Rev. J. P, MITE, SELL said, The meeting seems unwilling to sepa rate ; I think we had better commence the sub scription. The subscription was then begun on the platform, but several persons in the body of the hall, requested that donations might also be taken at the doors, in or der that those who could only give small sums might have an opportunity of contributing. The question was then put to the meeting, and unanimously acceded to ; after which the meeting gradually dispersed, twenty nine pounds having been raised in the hall. WESTERN INDIA AND THE .. 74-OCK.—We are requested to state that the New Work, " Western Ina n d o i a w i n r e l a B d 3 3, a,"nbdy mayMr s P b . eo hadsta n o s f , the A u t p ho u b r e li s s s of h ers :‘ Cutch, Messrs. '' Saunders and Otoksellr ley, Booksellers. Also streei‘tia Major the Libraries, New e and Work, " The Rock," illustrative of Gibraltar, with numerous drawings, by Lieutenant Lacy, d e di cate d b y Majesty. express permission to h er Mrs. Ed war d Thomas's New Work , " Sir Redmond," a Metrical Romance, will be published to-morrow ; and Miss Pres cott's New Work, " Poems, written in Newfoundland," is now ready. FATAL OCCURRENCE.—On Monday afternoon, about two o'clock, a most deplorable accident occurred in Fetter-lane through the falling of a large portion of so me dilapidated houses in that place. It appears that the premises, which belonged to the Goldsmiths' Com pany, had been for a long time in a most ruinous state, as had otheer property in the same neighbourhood be longing to the same affluent company, and had been partially pulled down, leaving, however, the greater portion of the front external walls standing. On Monday several boys were amusing themseives in the ruins, and it seems that they were pulling out some rotten wood when the mass of bricks fell into the street. One poor boy, whose name is Thomas Jenkins, was killed on the spot, and two others were removed to St. Bartholomew's Hospital, where they linger from severe injuries. This is the sixth occurrence of falling down of houses on the same estate, and near the same spot, within two years. EVENING EDITION. STATE OF TRADE The continued activity in the Liverpool cotton mar ket, and the advance which has taken place there, amounting, on the middle and inferior qualities of Ame rican cotton, to fully three farthings per pound,—have at length made some impression on our market ; and there was yesterday a more active demand for yarn, es• pecially for qualities and counts suitable for the East India and Mediterranean markets, and an advance of a farthing per pound was generally obtained. In ma nufactured goods, also, there was some improvement, and some considerable business was done in shirtings at an advance of 3d. to 6d. per piece. Printing cloth was also in better demand, at an advance of 1 id. per piece. It must be obvious, however, that this improvement, when taken in conjunction with the advance in cotton at Liverpool, leaves the spinners and manufacturers in a worse condition than before ; and very extensive pre parations are now understood to be on foot for working short time. A preparatory meeting of spinners and manu- ' facturers of Ashton, Stalybridge, and theneighbourhood, was held on Wednesday last ; when it was unanimously resolved to recommend to the trade in that district to work only eight hours per day until Christmas ; and an engagement to that effect was, we believe, very generally signed yesterday ; but we could not learn whether it had received the full number of signatures required. We understand, however, that all the factories in Bol ton are either working short time or entirely standing ; and that a resolution for reducing the hours of labour to eight per day, until the Ist of January, was passed at a meeting of Rochdale spinners, held yesterday ; and an agreement to that effect was signed by fourteen firms. About twelve firms are working short time at Stockport in addition to fifteen other establishments, which were all at work two years ago, and which have, since that time, been entirely closed from bankruptcy or other causes. Indeed, in the present condition of the trade, the continued advance in cotton at Liverpool is fraught with ruin to the spinners, and they must either check that advance, or raise the price of their produce, which can only be effected by a considerable diminution in its amount. We regret to add, that since Friday last three additional failures have been announced ; two in Stockport, and one in the neighbourhood of this town. The parties are all spinners and manufacturers, but their , concerns are not very extensive.— ,Vlancliester Guardian. DISTRESSING STATE OF MORLEY.—Most of the manufacturers of Morley have been nearly at a stand for many weeks ; consequently the operatives, who being mostly weavers, and who cannot in a good trade earn as much as will keep them and their families, are suffering very severely. The shopkeepers having given credit to a large amount last panic, and not having been able to realize the settling of their accounts, seem deter mined not to give credit, indeed many of them cannot do it. The New Poor-law, which is hated by all (especially by those who have most to do with it, and consequently know most about it), is now made to operate most shamefully against the poor, aided also by the new valuation, having nearly doubled the rates on cot tages and reduced those on land about one third ; by which means those are compelled to pay the rates who ought to be receiving them, for many have actually been summoned and compelled to pay, who have neither work nor bread. Altogether the present prospect is the most dark and dismal ever known in Morley, and there seems to be no one to sympathise with or relieve the distress he beholds ; our Ministers. generally speaking, being elevated fir above the people, have in consequence no sympathies for them. The present distress has been heightened by the disastrous news from America, where some of our manufactures have been seized and kept until they ought to have been sold. The Primitive Methodists held special prayer meetings last Sunday, to call upon Him who alone can deliver them from the hands of tyrants and the miseries of starvation.—Leeds Time:. ROCHDALE FLANNEL MARKET, MONDAY, NOY. 18 ' —There is little change in the market to report to-day there has been a moderate quantity of business done at very low prices.—Wool market dull, at rather de clining prices. CORN AVERAGES. UENERAL AVERAGE PRICES OF BRITISH CORN, For the Week ended Nov. 15, 1839, made up from the Returns of the Inspectors in the different Cities and Towns in England p.nd Wales, per Imperial Quarter. Wheat 6Bs. Id. Oats Barley 4`_'s.l s. 7d. Rya ... ...... 395. Id. I Pease 445. 9d. IMPERIAL AGGREGATE AVERAGES OF THE VOL wEEICS PRECEDING. Wheat 6fis.lld. I 9d. I Beans. ........ 455. Bd. Barley DUTIES OW FOREIGN CORN. Wheat M. Sd. I Oats Barley ls. 0,1. I Rye THE MARKETS. COAL N s, d Adair's Holywell Main 2l 6 Original Windsor's Pontnp 2') 0 Ord's Hedhugh Pontop Windsor West Hartley Wylam. 2O c Walls End Brown's Ditto unscreened 3 Walls End Clarke and Co l7 6 Walls r'nd Heaton 2l 6 Walls End Killingworth 9.9 3 Walls End Newmarch 91 fi Walls End Percy Bi nsham 22 0 Walls End Belmont Walls Endßraddyll'slietton 23 9 Walls End Haswell 94 chips arrived sinec iIARKET. s. d Walls End Helton Walls End Lambton '2 4 6 Walls End Pemberton Walls End Hartlepool 22v 6 6 3 Walls End Kelloe 5 Walls End ;iarrington Tees 31 6 Walls End Coundon 22 W.lis Eud Ne w Tees 2 S 6 Walls End Seymour Tees fa Walls End South Durham 6 Walls End Tees 25 6 Walls End Tees Hetton 3 Walls End We s t t ees 19 6 Stavely Main Walls spu _lB Walls End End in Henderson ........... last market-day, 122. COUNTRY CORN MARKETS. Wheat. i — Barley. 1 Oats. Beans. Pe ase ' 1 ................ ----------- , a. Per Quarter. s. to s. s. to s . a. t o s. a. to a. 8.. Boston Braintree 6B 78 36 48 28 34 38 44 40 .4.4,, B. ighton 64 76 44 47 26 29 44 46 " 4 '; Cambridge — 68 45 26 35 4o Chichester 65 76 3S 44 28 29 43 44 41 42 Dunmow 6B 76 38 51 26 33 36 44 42 45 Grantham - Grimsby 65 74 35 39 22 28 42 44 -- Hailsham 63 70 26 32 22 29 46 40 Hitchin 64 70 34 46 24 32 25 30 Ipswich 66 74 36 32 24 28 38 40 28 42 Lewes 6B 43 22 29 34 40 Lynn —sB 70 3 - Ts 46 25 31 38 44 Maidstone 66 75 36 39 26 92 40 N Norwich Petworth Romford 5B 76 38 48 24 :52 34 42 88 45 Sandwich 5B 77 28 32 17 28 40 42 Thetford 64 70 39 42 24 30 40 42 38 40 Wisbech Witham 67 79 34 47 128 34 38 46 44 46 Yarmouth 6O 70 33 85 t2B 32 38 40 40 44 LIVERPOOL CORN MARKET.—Noy. 19, WHEAT, English, White, per 701 b. Red -- Scotch, Welch, and I,lanx - Irish, White 8 6 9 6 -- Red 7 3 0 0 Foreign OATS, English, Welsh, and Scotch, per 451 b 3 8 4 2 Irish ..., 3ll 4 0 Foreign BARLEY, English, Malting, per Imp. quarter 45 0 51 0 - Scotch and Irish, pet 60Ibs. Feeding 4 6 4 9 BEANS, English, per Imperial quarter 4B 0 54 0 Irish, &c. Foreign PEASE, English, per Imperial quarter 4B 0 50 0 Foreign 40 0 4 1 :1 FLOUR, English, per 2801 b. 0 6 ° 6 8 Irish OATMEAL, English and Irish, pe r 2401b s 7,8 0 3. 7 I P Irthiax CORN, pc" 480Ib. .... - RYE, per Imperial quarter 61ALT, per Imperial quarter ----- - - HULL CORN MARKET Wheat, White (per Quarter) Red sos. 6es. 4s. Foreign Barley, Mal , ing _ B , —a. -- -16 Grinding Oats, British .. 185. 235. 265. Foreigu (in bond) - .. ± Beans ... Pease, Grey _-s. 4 65.379. a Blue and White --.-. Linseed ... Flour (per sack)... ., Rapeseed (per 10 quarters) 221. 20. 25' CHELTENHAM MARKETS. 113. to sd` Per Bushel. ad.tos. d 4 Per lb. Wheat Oa r ley 43 3 0 6 5 Mutton 4 0 Vsal Beans cease 5 0 2 0 Lamb Hay ..... ~..... 21.105. to 71. Os. Od. per ton. CANTER BU RI MARKET. Wheat, white--- 68s. to 80s. —01 d—....... "".• W .:: red—................ 60s. to 70s ........ 01d........—..... 68s. to s • Barley, Malting —,. 365. to 475. Grinding.. —5. to --,,,, ' Oats Beans —s to —s. ......... 01d—............. 448. to 475- Pease CHELMSFORD MARKET. 55 Wheat, White 7O to 7 9 Oats Red Barley 42 4'. White `'s 0 as Chevalier ... ... 1-5 41 Beans, T ic k ~ G ri nding l5 30 M azagan .......... ,•... ............-- or-- - -git, THE CLASSIC PATTERN SIL ;, - t e SPOONS and FORKS combine Novelty with great 0 e l, ness and Simplicity, a n d are l i ttle, more expensive than. old plain patterns which h ave b een made for the last thirty Pp-- , This pattern can be obtained only of T. COX SAVORY, ( 00 Silversmith, Jew e ll er, an d Watchmaker, 47 , Cornitni "^ ' 8 doors from Gracechurch-street), London. __......mal On the 23d of September, 13 llt THS. at St. John's, the lady o f J. 0. H. Bourne, Esq., Chief Justice of Newfoundland, of a son. On the 15th inst., at Edinburgh, the lady of Alexanay. M Neill, Esq., jun., of Collensay, of a son. On the 19th inst., at Witham, Essex, the wife of Jacob Pattisson, Esq., of a daughter. Wife On the 19th ult., at Adel a id e -place, London-bridge, e of Mr. John F. South, of a daughter. TtenbOff' On the 20th inst., in Doughty-street, Mrs. J. of a daughter. MA D. 't, On the 20th inst., at Clapham ßlP Church, Mr. S. H. K n ' eb of of Gracechurch-street, to Fanny Long, youngest da u g hter Mr. Simson, of St. Paul's-churchyard. 'Mack" On the 16th inst., at Islington, John Brown, Esq. , of 1 81 e 0. heath-pal k, to Louisa Adelaide, secon d daughter of the late, :a F. Herneman, Esq., his Danish Majesty's Consul-Ge neral London. DIED. On the M 16th inst., of inflammation of the lungs, r , Joh n Lander, who, in company with his deceased brother Rie.tard , go successfully traced the source of the river Niger, aged 32. o f On the 18th inst. , at Eastr y , Kent, Charlotte, the wile William Fuller Boteler, Esq., Queen's Counsel, ar, e d 57. g o . On the 14th of Aug ust last, atnloka,in the Maraltius, Sir Bert Barclay, Bart. , for merl y collector of t he internal r eventles in that island. On the 16th inst., at Newcastle Emlra, Carmarthenshire, Elizabeth, the wif e of Mr. John Prid marl, o f Ald ers gate-str eet, London, aged 24. On the 16th inst. , a t Highgate, S.(aria, the wife of the 80. John Bradley Dyne. a 0 1 London Printed and Publis,e bURDO YOUN . No. 112, strand, at Vie Su bd n Offic y e, M No 110, Strand, in 1 county of Aliddlesex.—Tbursday. November 21,1 1439 * ,