any conflict that may approach; and that, therefore, we may laugh at all threatenings, and set them at defiance. (Loud cheering.) But what have the tenant-farmers to fear at the approach of discord? Can you be worse off? (No, no.) Can any alteration damage you? (Renewed cries of "no no.") All is lost! Persevere in your free-trade laws, and there is no concealing the fact that, as a class, we are swept away. (Hear.) Persevere in those laws, our homes will be taken from us. Persevere in those laws, our wives will be without protection. Persevere in those laws, our children will become paupers. (Cheers.) Will you then tell me, when laws have been enacted that reduce me to that position, that I, a broken-hearted man, passing into poverty and my family degraded, that I shall fear the threats of a demagogue? (Much cheering.) My answer for the whole body of the tenantry of the country is this--that we are disposed to risk all, brave all, dare all! (vociferous cheering, again and again repeated;) and that we are prepared, come what will, and cost what it may, at the hour of our country's peril, for our homes, our wives, and our families, to take those terrible steps which are the most frightful for a good and peaceable man to imagine, but which necessity and unjust treatment hurry us on and bring us to the contemplation of. (Vehement plaudits.) The most abominable part of it is this, however. If it had been a calamity brought on in the Providence of God--by the failure of the seasons, or by something which was above legislative control, we would have humbly bowed to it. But here comes the scourge--we fell through the cowardice and faint-heartedness of him whom we considered to be the greatest of modern statesmen; and when the history of the age that is passing has been recorded, it will tell us that at the same period there was in Italy a man (Count Rossi) who had been appointed minister of the Pope; that he was the witness of a rising tumult and a coming desolation; and that on the very morning of his death he was told not to go to the Senate, for if he did so there would be danger attending him. His reply was, "I have taken office--and when I did that, I took not only its honours and emoluments, but its duties and its dangers." He went to the Senate, and perished upon the steps of the Forum. But our statesman (Sir Robert Peel) saw the approach of the storm, quailed at the tempest, bowed down to the lowering cloud, dishonoured the country, brought infamy upon his own name, and poverty upon the people. (Great cheering.)