The Sun.
London, England, 1839-11-15 00:00:00

John Clarke sworn—
.ng. II am a private in the 45th.
Have h- en thirteen months. I w
as here on the 10th
of last month, between five and si:.
in the evening.
was walking towards the bridge. 1 • met opposite the
King's Head the prisoner Victory. There were three
of us. This witness then corroboratk. 'd
the first
nwit-
ness's evidence, and in addition said the'
risoner asked.ter-
them to come down to his house when they
were at
li-
berty. He did not tell me where he lived. I after_
wards saw hint on the Saturday following, and he ,‘3ked
me and my comrade to go and have a pint of beer. .1‘1).
comrade's name is Barr, and he is now confined for de--
sertion. He told us to go to a public-house, and he
would be with us in a few minutes. We went to the
house called the Wheel. It is on the road going out of
the town. We went there, and had two pints of beer.
The prisoner Victory did not come after wards. The
prisoner told me his name, but I do not remember
it. We were coming out and met the prisoner, and we
told him that I and my comrade had made up our minds
to desert, and asked him if he could find us any clothes ;
and he said it was a very serious ma,`.ter, and he did
not think he could, as he had a good t natty children to
support. He then left us, and soon car ne back with an
old paper cap. He said that was all he could give us.
I then left him and journeyed cn the ;road, and met
with two young men, who appeared tob3farmers. We
told the farmers that we intended to desert, and asked
for clothes. We went with them about four miles,
and they took us to an old barn, and then fetched us
some clothes. We staid there that night. We left
next morning, and went through Pont-y-pool as far as
Blaenavon. We left the military clothes behind us.
At Blaenavon we inquired for work. The two farmers
took us to a public-house. Before we went to the barn,
we had a pint or two of beer. The farmers ordered the
beer. The public-house was on the side of the highway.
Ido not know the sign. We got there about half-
past nine : it was dark. It was about a mile or a mile
and a half from Newport, on the right-hand side of the
road going from here. When we got to Blaenavon we
got no work, and my comrade fell ill. I then left him,
and on Monday morning I eame back to Newport. I
got here by about three o'clock in the afternoon. J.
Barr is now a prisoner. After deserting I was afraid
of the consequences, and I came back. I saw the
prisoner Victory on the morning of the row just by
here : 'twas after the row. As we came down with
Lieutenant Gray's party I saw some one Ike the pri-
soner standing on the top of Charles-street, and ho
smiled. I have been in Morgan's (the other prisoner)
house since ; Morgan's wife asked me something about
Barr, Ido not recollect what. I think she asked me
how ha was. I do not recollect her asking whether
Barr had told anything yet. This was last Monday
fortnight. (The witness repeatedly said that he could
not tell which it was ; whether the prisoner Morgan's
wife asked me then how Barr was, or has Barr told
anything.)
The Rev Mr. Coles then addressed the last witness,
and admonished him as to his past conduct, and recom-
mended him to leave off going into (the curse of this
country) beershops, and dram-drinking, and to conduct
himself in future so as to deserve the credit of belong-
ing to one of the first regiments in her Majesty's ser-
vice. He then addressed the prisoner Morgan, and
said that it was very lucky for him that there was
no evidence to inculpate him, but advised him to
be cautious.

He was then discharged ; the other prisoner was re-
manded until to-morrow morning.
The Court rose at eight o'clock.
The examination of young Frost is expected to come
on to-morrow.

WHAT ARE THE CAUSES OF

CHAIZTISM.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE SUN.

Siit,—ln times like these I hold it to be the duty of
every man, howover humble his statio❑ in society, to
come forward and lend a helping hand in administering
relief to the sickened minds of the people.
With a population disaffected almost to rel;ellion,
commerce sunk nearly to depression's lowest point—
Government enfeebled by the sordid and conflicting
interests of the different classes who require, and who
ought to seek its fostering care—it is our duty to seek
diligently- for the immediate causes of these complicated
evils.

That there is no effect without its cause is a truism
universally admitted ; and the philanthropic mind can-
not quietly contemplate the existing and most lamentable
state of our people, without endeavouring to trace itz
sources, and, as far as possible, to alleviate their dig-
tresses.

To what cause then are we to attribute this painfu!,
state of things ? Why is it possible that the people
can be so easily brought under the damning influence of
political demagogues, and mental incendiaries ? For
this very simple reason, that they are tif,t better taught ;
and grave and solemn as the charge f the feet of
the Clergy of this nation, Cr.thoilL, Protestant, and
Dissenting, do I lay the miseries that are now afflicting
its people.
I will not attempt to sketch all the varieties of cha-
racter in which these gmtlemen appear ; a few will suf-
fice. There is the Unitarian with his cold philosophy,
*and -doubting inquisitiveness ; the Calvinist with his
election and reprobation, offering himself to the
view .of his fellow-creatures as a superior specimen
of the Almighty's workmanship, and accompany-
ing his presumption with Stand by, for I
am holier than thou ;" the Methodist proclaiming
universal love to God and man, yet giving the lie to
his professions, by his puny efforts to repress the human
intellect, unless its expansion be accompanied by John
Wesley's declaration of the superiority of faith over
works ; linked in a conferential band of union, and
arrogating all but the powers of Omnipotence—the
" Church of England"
men, who, under the patronageand support of Henry the Eighth (by the grace of ----
defender of adultery), first robbed the Catholics of their
money and their Churches, and have ever since been
calling them hard names, and even denying them sal-
vat;;7,l ; backed and supported by all the powers of
State, and the undignifying
aristocracy of riches ; from
the fat Bishop. with his 20,000/. per annum, down to
the lean and hard-working Curate, who is driven to
eke out his wretched pittance of " forty pounds per
year," in any way he can, and yet to appear respect-
able, clothed in black cloth, and self-importance,
holding themselves too far aloof from the people with
whom they ought to live, and whom they ought
to love ; the Catholic priest, lamenting that his
" light of other days is faded," and nearly " all its
glory past"—who prides himself in defeatiry, to the
full extent of his ability the purposes of his Maker, by
denying himself the enjoyments of domestic happiness,
and refusing to "go forth and multiply,"—claiming to
be the lineal, but of course illegitimate descendants of a
man who they tell us never had a wife, and proclaiming
that without the pale of his Church there is no eternal
joy ; and the demure Quaker, with his extraordinary large
bump of acquisitiveness, his bleached countenance evinc-
ing to the world that he and enjoyment are not very
well acquainted, and cannot agree, who says h,,
only speaks when the Spirit moves, and does little
except what either immediately or remotely conduces to
his wealth.

Such are some of the guiding influences under which
the minds of the people are trained ; and can it be won-
dered at that they produce so much obliquity ?
Open your churches and chapels on the week days
as well as on the Stindays, and let the buildings be ap-
plied to useful purposes—to the instruction of youth as
well as of maturity—mix more with the people---Nidt
them in their garrets and in their cellars—support the
weak and feeble—sooth the sufferings of affliction—
string up the energies of the strong—incite to virtue
more by the exhilirating hopes of heaven, and less by
the degrading fears of hell—cease your bickeriogs about
creeds and articles of faith of man's wisdom—tell them,
as Jesus did, that the whole of the law and the Pro-
phets consists in loving God with all the soul, and all the
strength, and their neighbours as themselves, and you
will thus prove that you have some sympathy with the
people. You will teach them the extreme folly of pur-
suing unattainable objects, whether social or political.
You will disarm Robert Owen of his costly powers of
delusion, by showing them that to establish socialism,
he must re-create creation—that so long as men's bodies
are of unequal size, there will be inequalities of mental
power, and by consequence Inequalities of station and
possessions.
By conduct such as this you will for ever extinguish
Chartism, and you will soon see a really Christian
Church established, not by law, requiring the protec-
tion of soldiers and swords and bayonets, and such
scenes as occurred at Rathcormac, but established and
living in the hearts, the hopes, and the affections of
a virtuous people--their country's highest pride and
brightest glory.
Yours, faithfully,
JOSEPH JOHNSON.
69, Vine.street, Cambridge-street,
Liverpool, Nov. 15, 1839.

Mr. Thornhill and his intended bride, the
cousin of Lord Forester, are now at Riddlesworth Hall,
in Norfolk, where the marriage will be performed in a
few days.
Sir Robert and Lady Macfarlane are still in
Paris, waiting until their mansion opposite Cumberland
Gate is finished.
TIDE LATE SUICIDE AT CPIATIIAM.—The
proprietors of the Era beg to call the attention of the
public to an article which appeared in their paper of the
27th ult. on the late catastrophe at Chatham. Their
duty to their readers would have been performed by
merely relating the facts with regard to the late Mr.
Nathaniel Isaacs ; but they incautiously inserted also
the floating and lying rumours of the town, some of
which may be supposed to reflect upon the respectability
of the father and brother of the deceased. As the only
reparation they can now make, they thus publicly de-
clare that such rumours, as reported in the Era, are
wholly false and without foundation, and they take this
opportunity of expressing their deep regret at having
been unconsciously the means of wounding the feelings
of parties whose honour and respectability are altoge-
ther beyond question.—(From the Era of Nov. 10.)