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

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
appointed 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 spectacle, was charac-
terised throughout by unity of spirit, depth of feeling,
and sustained interest in the object for which they had

been convened.
The business of the evening was commenced by the
that Mr. Wm. Baines
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 ersuaded, 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
of revpeetab!e persons in the town are all that visit
him. 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 thankfuil 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
' confinement, my determination is stronger than ever,—
, never to pay! ~
tThe auditory listened to this simple and touching
epistlewith deep and earnest attention and sympathy,
manifested their approval of the determination
expressedn it, the concluding sentence by general an d
enthusiastic cheerin g Mr. Miall then resumed
In what age : --
of the] world, Mr. Chairman, in what of the globe,
ado we five, *that our ears' are an-
noyed and our hearts pierced by a tale of persecu-
tion
and cruelty such
as this ? Is this, one might be
tempted to ask, and alreuteives,--cati this be the
almost to discredit the answer he
middle of the nineteenth cen-
tury,--,-an age in which science takes her range to the
and
extreme limits of timespace
fo; and art is erecting,
over the length and breadth the land, the most
stupendous monuments of her successful
power, and
philosophy is busied in exploring the very
,ery
foundations
of political government ; and knowledge is " running to
and fro ;" au,d Christianity
is awaking from
inthe sleep 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 ; the
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:osions of human nature, dares to lift up his hideous
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 read 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, decked in the trickery of worldly ho-
hours, the mere creation of princes,—a thing which
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 amuse 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
enctanteeapsr.iilnyeiple
sorrow !
th imaginean thathe,
by
the " hope deferred which maketh the hear:, sick,
and disgusted with worn rnmOunt:
the more than lukewarmness of
the body for whose i
would abjure
Dissent,nterests he has yielded all be has,
quit for ever the ranks of half-
hearted Nonconformity,erseeutaoards Had
a lasting peace
with his former p
case, loud would have been the condemnation sueh been th e
of
Thorogood, and many who had hesitated 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 pay it ?" Only a few
grains of incense were required of the primitive
Christian, e saver
apwospoef
wouldthe Lion,hal,e
onlysavedanUt moia
or hima credof.oni
timer from the flames. But the primitive
a,
ote
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.
easneda
p
same with the religion of Fo ; the Queen of Ma-
dagascar has recently told all the world her oe: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. .\,Te
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 st: . , i i
Queen Bets." We have not forgotten the Steeres,---
the Star Chamber and High Commiision Co -ts—
were the victims of pi,' " 4"
the days of Laud and Strafford—nor the pro- - iof
Jefferies through this country, or that of tbe ):. ~11
then,
landsC lave
r
noses, mutilated ears, or disjointed limbs
' however, are gone by, and , - ,
hagateililet.heyHappy
times, we stn.
imagined that all such proceedings had le,
an end to. After the " glorious" revolution 01'
after Catholic Emancipation and the repeal ,