Mr Pearson said, that it was now his duty to address the Jury on behalf of Sir Charles Wolseley, and on behalf of Sir Charles only. The question before the Jury was not a political ques tion, nor was a political dissertation from him (Mr Pearson) to be expected. In a court of justice, in the sanctuary of the law, the voice of party should be for ever silent; and he conjured the Jury to consider, that, if it was incumbent upon him (the learned counsel) to abstain from obtruding upon the Jury any political discussion, it was still more incumbent upon the Jury to guard their minds from the slightest shade of political bias. The charge of conspiracy, the learned counsel thought, scarce deserved an argument; it had been, by the evidence for the prosecution, completely disproved; and he was only astonished that his learned friend had not long since abandoned that charge, and confessed that his ground had mouldered beneath his feet. A conspiracy, forsooth, between two men who had not been proved to have met until a few moments before the time at which their offence was alleged to have been committed! The whole charge of conspiracy was gone; and it would be wasting the time of the Jury to argue it farther. The other part of the indictment would depend entirely upon the question whether the meeting of the 28th was a legal or an illegal meeting; and to such a question the learned counsel felt assured the Jury could return but one answer. The numbers who at tended that meeting were wholly unimportant; and he (the learned counsel) would go at once to the conduct and to the language employed by that meeting. What then were the resolutions which had been passed at that meeting? He (Mr Pearson) would venture to declare, that even from the partial detail of those resolutions which had been given by the witnesses for the prosecution, nothing would appear by which his client could be affected. Of reform, whatever might be his opinion, he would here say nothing. It was a legitimate topic of discussion. It had formed a material topic of political writers at various periods, ever since the Revolution, and the wisest and best statesmen had endeavoured to effect it. Need he refer to Locke and Bolingbroke, to Fox and Pit? It was surely too late of the day to make it necessary to argue that reform was a legitimate object of meeting and petitioning. Universal suffrage certainly seemed of all chimerical projects the most chimerical; but still it was not unlawful to discuss it and to petition either House of Parliament, or the Sovereign, or, if the petition was refused, to remonstrate boldly and manfully, but respectfully. Where was the limit to petitioning? Whatever Parliament could grant, the people could petition, and they had a right to give force to their individual opinions by meeting and uniting their wishes. He could not think of wasting their time by remarking upon the absurd evidence that all the people of this great empire were to be assembled at Oldham. That it had been seriously urged for the prosecution was singular in judi cial proceedings. It was beyond every thing in real life,-beyond every thing in comic fiction. The wildest of wild romances had nothing like it. The flappers of memory and mathematical carving of meat in Gulliver's Travels were not comparable to this; and the alarm of the inhabitants of the Flying Island, that this earth would be destroyed by the tail of a comet, was as reasonable as any alarm for this wild speculation of a national meeting at Oldham. Say that they were to be delegates who met. He needed not to tell them that that would not be unlawful. Needed he to remind them that a meeting of delegates was held in London, among whom was Dr Jebb, Sir William Jones, Mr Pitt, Mr Fox, the Lennoxes, the Cavendishes, and the Howards? They were not prosecuted by the Attorney-General. Why then should a meeting in Cheshire be thus visited? But such a meeting would not have been illegal. But if they had the dictum of a Judge, which they had not, that it was illegal; still, in the present case, it had, according to the evidence, been only proposed. Then there was a subscription proposed for the prosecution of Ministers who had violated the law: but to the law, and the law only, they applied. How could this be a violation of the public peace? Next, as to the conduct of the parties at the meeting, there was nothing illegal in mere numbers. The acts of the last Parliament were a distinct admission that meetings of that kind were legal before. It had been laid down by that upright and impartial Judge, Mr Justice Bayley, that if there were 60,000, it was not, therefore, an unlawful assembly. If a constable was hurt, it was before Sir Charles came ; even if it were not, how could he be answerable for that more than for a pickpocket who might steal property in that crowd? Sticks for convenience, or even parade, were not unlawful. If they were held up, so were hats. But in no shape were they connected with his client. As to the cap of liberty and the flag, they were aware that at York, where such things were proved to have existed to a much greater extent, Mr Hunt was acquitted in every count, similar to what they were try. ing at present. Here he read the count on which Mr Hunt had been convicted, and called the attention of their Lordships particularly to it. Perhaps the cap of liberty was a bauble unworthy of the attention of men of sense; but the multitude, men as well as children, valued the symbol more than the thing signified "Pleased with this bauble still as that before." Of the rattles, tittles, rosaries, or garters, mentioned by the poet, were there any more harmless than the cap of liberty, originally emblematical of the manumission of a slave, in England the symbol of liberty? It had been used and abused in France, so had liberty. He could not suppose the constitution of this country could be destroyed like a necromancer's spell, by a breath, a hiss, or a shout. If the meeting was not illegal, the speeches could not make it the meeting described in the indictment. Seditious words might form a substantive crime, but it was not the crime before them. If others used seditious words, Sir Charles Wolseley was answerable only for his own words. Here he felt peculiar difficulty. Sir Charles Wolseley was a person of the highest honour and respectability, and would not separate himself from a fellow-sufferer; but he could not suffer considerations of that kind to influence his conduct as his counsel. Let Mr Harrison deny, or explain, or prove to be an idle joke, the allu sion to an illustrious person. Such expressions were improper, disgraceful, indecent, mischievous. But Sir Charles Wolseley was not answerable for every absurd remark made by others. The Bastile, it was evident, and he would prove, had been mentioned only hypothetically; and Sir Charles Wolseley took no greater liberty in this respect than Mr Burke had done on the other side. Sir Charles, in saying that he would assist in destroying similar buildings, if set up in this country, said no more than every English gentleman felt. Sir Charles Wolseley's fortune wasopulent, and affording the elegances and luxuries of life; his family, his rank, his wife and numerous family, proved that he could not be influenced by envy, or desire to throw his property as a prize of some desperate gambler in revolution. He committed that client, his liberty, his happiness, and the hap. piness of his family, with most entire confidence, into their hands. Mr Harrison began to address the Jury with the utmost composure, and with a violently methodistical twang. The first thing he would speak of to them was Mr Marshall's charge to the Grand Jury, as it appeared in the papers. It struck him that it was applied to himself. He knew of no case to which it could apply but his own. This speech, so elaborate and long, was all directed against him, an humble individual as he was. (Here he read a great part of the charge, till he came to the expression that "there were persons destitute of honour, fame, and fortune, who hazarded their lives for desperate purposes.") That there were some bad and desperate adventurers, that hazarded their lives to obtain fame or fortune, he admitted, but he was not among them. He had always proposed to promote and effect reform by legal means. The honourable Baronet could not have been alluded to as the desperate adventurer, destitute of honour, fame, and fortune. Therefore he alone had been alluded to, or the observation was irrelevant. (He then read a passage, in continuation, from the Chester Chronicle.) If he should fall, it would be by the violence of his prosecutors; and if I fall," continued he in a whining tone, "the earth will shake when I fall." If in the heat of argument or discourse be used figures too strong for the oc casion, every public speaker did the same. Had he been conscious of having desired, or of having used any means to cause "a sanguinary revolution, he should have stood at the bar, and at once pleaded guilty." When he had looked at that sham document, the indictment, in which he and Sir Charles Wolseley were bound hand and foot, to be thrown-where ?—into hell! Here he was most basely traduced and injured. He was determined to vindicate his own innocence. It might be said, what was his country to him?" Why, gentlemen, it is every thing to me. Should they throw me down, my country will receive me in her arms; should I be separated from the beloved partner of my life, my country will comfort her heart; should I be separated from my dear babes, my country will provide them ten fathers for me alone." This time was the first opportunity afforded to him of vindicating his character, and this opportu nity, by the strength of Heaven, he was determined to improve. (He now read further on in the charge to the Grand Jury.)" Early impressions of loyalty and religion must be removed; and this was to be accomplished by the blasphemous speeches of their vagabond orators." Vagabond orators! meaning, no doubt, himself! Witness that Gospel which had been sealed with the blood of Jesus Christ, in the preaching of which he had lived, and in the practice of which he would die, that he had done his utmost to check the progress of vice and irreligion. The Gospel held out to him the hope of a glorious hereafter; it had been the delight of his heart, and it was still the comfort of his soul. "The people have a right to petition for the redress of their grievances; but they must exercise that right in a legal and constitutional manner." And yet, for the exercise of that right it was that he now stood in his present trying predi cament. Mark the buts! The people have a right, but they must not exert it. They may have as many rights as they please, but the moment they seek to exercise them they are forfeited. "Drawing together vast multitudes." Were 5000 too many for such a neighbourhood to assemble on such an occasion? One-fourth part of the population? Would three men be terrified at one? The terrorem populi had not been made out by the prosecution. He (Harrison) would not apply to the feelings of the Jury; he scorned to do it. Let the Jury hate him as their most mortal foe, still it was their duty to give a just verdict; he did not ask it, he demanded it. "The law of England abhors the assemblage of great multitudes of people on any pretence." "Abhors!" What was meant by " Abhors?""Forbids" might have had some meaning; but, even then, the same argument would apply to general elections, either for county or city. "Assassin ation seems to have been one of the crimes by which this horrid conspiracy was to have been accomplished." What was this but an allusion to the Catostreet plot? What, but an attempt to connect him (Harrison) with those foolish, rash(“ Here is a gentleman behind won't let me speak")-inconsiderate men? But, be the Jury what they might, they were Englishmen; he loved them; every Englishman was near and dear to his heart. "Pretended Reformers!" the word "pretended" hurt him. If they had been cool, and careless, and tame, and indifferent, at their meetings, they might have been so designated; but when they had done every thing to prove their zeal; when they had shewn that they felt their grievances, and wished to get redress for them; when their exertions in the cause of Reform had subjected them to abuse and to punishment, it was too much to say that they were not in earnest. It was too much-he could not abide it. [Here the orator stamped emphatically with his foot. He then wiped his forehead, at leisure, with his pocket-handkerchief, and continued.] He was sure that he had not offended the Judge by his remarks; for his Lordship had been looking at him with a pleasant countenance all the while. He (Harrison) would tell the Jury that he held in his hand a help unhoped for. It was a little book, en. titled "Remarks upon the Indictment of Sir Charles Wolseley and Mr Harrison." It was written by Jeremy Bentham, the greatest lawyer in the world. May be the Jury had heard of him; no doubt both their Lordships had. Mr Harrison then went at great length into the work of Mr Bentham, and expatiated, by way of digression, upon the merits of the Edinburgh Re view. There was an article in that Review worthy the attention of the Jury. It treated of tumult, the offence of which he (the defendant) was accused. The article was written by another great lawyer, Mr Brougham. Mr Brougham there defended tumult; and proved that it was not for the good of the public that tumultuous meetings should be extinguished. Mr Brougham wished that very crime to continue for which the defendants in the present case were indicted. Not that he (Harrison) liked tumult; he was always a peaceable man. It had been given in evidence, that the defendants had intended to assemble the whole country at Oldham. It appeared then, that the English law punished intentions, fancies, inclinations, thoughts, wishes, and dispositions. If not, the indictment was not founded upon English law. Insurrection had been imputed to them. What was insurrection? It was rising up. Was rising up a crime? Counsel rose up. The Jury must rise up to give their verdict of guilty, which was anticipated. Then they were guilty of a crime.--Mr Harrison had, by this time, spoken for nearly four hours, and there appeared to be no prospect of a conclusion, when it was hinted to him by his friends, that the course which he was pursuing, was as little likely to produce advantage to himself as entertainment to his audience. After a few observations further, therefore, he closed his address. A few witnesses were now called for Sir Charles Wolseley, who did not however prove any thing important. Mr Benyon replied. The Chief Justice summed up the case, and charged the Jury at great length. The Jury after retiring for three quarters of an hour, brought in a verdict of Guilty against both defendants. Application for a new trial was made in the Court of King's Bench, but refused. On the 16th May, judgment was pronounced. Sir Charles Wolseley was sentenced to eighteen months' imprisonment in Abingdon gaol; at the expiration of that time to enter into sureties for his good behaviour, himself in 1000l. and two other persons in 500l. each. Mr Harrison to be imprisoned for a term of eighteen months (to be computed from the expiration of his present imprisonment) in the Castle of Chester; and at the expiration of his imprisonment, to enter into securities for his good behaviour during five years, himself in 2001. and two other persons in 100%. each. CARTWRIGHT, WOOLLER, AND OTHERS, FOR PROCEEDINGS AT [Previous to the trial, consider. able exceptions were taken to the manner in which the Jury had been struck, and which afterwards became the subject of a motion before the Court of King's Bench. At present they were overruled by the Lord Chief Baron.] Mr BALGUY opened the pleadings. This was an indictment, in the first count, charging the defendants, George Edmonds, Charles Maddocks, John Cartwright, Thomas Jonathan Wooler, and William Greathead Lewis, with being malicious, seditious, and evil-disposed persons, and with unlawfully and maliciously desiring and intending to raise and excite discontent and disaffection in the minds of the king's subjects, and intending to move them to hatred and contempt of the government and constitution as by law established, and of the Commons House of Parliament as by law established, heretofore, to wit, on the 12th of July, 1819, and on divers other days and times, as well before as after, with force and arms, at Birmingham, unlawfully, maliciously, and seditiously, did combine, conspire, and confederate with each other, and with divers other disaffected and ill-disposed persons, for the purposes above mentioned, and unlawfully to nominate, elect, and appoint a person to be the representative of the inhabitants of Birmingham, and to claim admission into the House of Commons as a member thereof, neither they, the said defendants, nor the said other conspirators, nor the inhabitants of Birmingham, being then lawfully authorized to nominate, elect, or appoint any such representative. And that the defendants, and various other persons, in pursuance of the said conspiracy, assembled, to the number of 20,000, for the purpose of hearing divers scandalous, seditious, and inflammatory speeches, resolutions, and writings, concerning the Government and the House of Commons, uttered for the purposes aforesaid. Mr Serjeant VAUGHAN stated the |