The Sun.
London, England, 1842-07-14 00:00:00

very system, and who thereby proves himself to be the enlighie
cued and self. convicted, and ellicient enemy of both inteteste—
and for what ?,that he might obtain place and keep it, and in
his °NH words—" share the patronage of the Government, and
make that provision out of the public purse for his dependents
which his hereditary estates can no longer bear."—(Cheers.) It
is this same Right Hun. Baronet that has told us in this book,
that " the feeling of the public must be hostile to the present
Corn-law—that the receivers of rent are a very small body—
that backed by public opinion, they are almost omnipotent—
that in violation of public opinion, they cannot long retain an
exclusive advantage—that the contest is fearful ; for on what
ground will it be decided ? On the very topic which inflames
to madness : that hunger, which breaks through walls, will be
arrayed against them • reason will be heard no longer ; the
barriers of society will be broken down ; and estates, distinc-
nuns, honours, swept away in one resistless torrent."—( Cheers.
Yet this same Right Hon. Baronet now defends these Corn-
laws, in defiance of public opinion, at a time when hunger is
maddening the very people—at the very moment when he offi-
cially declares that 1,400,000 persons are receiving the pay of
paupers—when the clouds of vengeance are fast gathering. At
such a time, we find this identical Baronet, night after night,
voting town every measure directed against the very law which
he has described as the author of gambling, injustice, hunger,
despair, and madness. Oh, Sir—
Had it
Pleased Heaven to curse us with affliction ;
To rain all sorts of sores upon my head;
To steep me in poverty to the very lips ;
I could have found in some part of my soul
A drop of patience;''
but to be doomed to pining wretchedness and helpless hunger,
by such a man, and to find him, besides, armed with the dread
power of the law to enforce his sentence, does all but banish
the virtue of patience from the heart. Virtue itself seems to
demand that such a man, so infamous and guilty,
should be driven from his seat.—( Great applause.)
It is this_ man who tells us that " the paramount duty of
every Government is attention to the interests of the commu-
nity, of which the labourers must form the great majority ; the
right of property is institeted for the good, not of the few who
possess wealth and honours, but of the many who have them
not; if the majority be deeply injured the public peace is in
danger ; if the majority want food, private property becomes a
nuisance."—( Cheers.) Yet this man sits upon the Treasury
bench, between the Prime Minister and the Chancellor of the
Exchequer, and, night after night, amuses the House with his
"heavy pleasantries," while around him is a state of things,
binonct comparison worse than was ever found when he wrote
this book.—( Cheers.) I find him, here, pathetically lamenting
over the condition of the hand-loom weavers in 1826, and after
describing them as not able to earn more than 6s. a week when
in work, and many of them without employment, saying :—" I
have reason to k.iow that when the handful of meal in the
barrel, and the little oil in the cruise have failed, pinching
hunger too often is endured far many hours by entire fami•
lies." And what then ? Why he proceeds thus :—" It
is vain to add reasoning to facts like these ; they cry aloud, and
proclaim approaching danger. Patience still endures, because
hope still lingers. " Either legislative redress must
speedily be granted, or the reign of terror is at hand."—
( Cheers.) And what is his remedy ? The abolition of the
sliding-scale of duties on corn !—(Cheers.) "Let me implore
the landowners," he says, " to abandon the futile attempt of
artificially maintaining high prices. Let them make a com-
promise with the public. Let them open the ports for the ad-
iniseinn of foreign corn. The Corn.laws estrange the hearts of
the people from the possessors of the soil.—(Cheers.) Con-
cession will win back their kindly feelings." But Sir James
gays more. Hear him : "In addition to free importation, let
there be a revision of all monopolies. Let not the consumer
be forced to pay an exorbitant price for his sugar, that a
particular interest may be benefited.—(Cheers.) Let us de-
stroy the heavy duties on timber—(Cheers)—which, at the
expense of every man building a ship or a house in the mother
country, are at the best a paltry premium to our colonies; and
since we are bent on establishing an open competition with the
foreign manufacturer, let us at once reduce largely those taxes
which affect both the commerce and manufactures of our
country."—(Cheers.) Such are :the opinions of the Right
Hon. Home Secretary. 1 say are, for those which he now
expresses are but the official apologies for measures which he
supports in order to support himself. But what shall we say
of such a man? Can we regard him with any other feelings
than those of contempt and indignation ?—( Cheers. ) Would
it not be the extreme of cruelty and treachery, to abandon the
hard-working people of England, and the commerce and menu-
fact tires of our island, to such a shameless apostate ?—( Cheers. )
But how may the power of such men be overthrown ? Sir
James tells you ; and with one more extract I will leave his book
for the present. The power to hurl oppressors from their high
places, he tells you, is public opinion. " Public opinion,"
he assures us, "cannot be outraged with impunity."—( Cheers. )
Be it so. I believe it. Sir James has outraged public opinion
and his own opinions too.—(Cheers.) " King, Lords, and
Commons united, cannot carry any measure into effect which
is contrary to public opinion." So says Sir James. They are
not united. Our Queen is with us—( Continued applause)—
sn that we have but to rally round the Sovereign, and our work
is done.—( Cheers.) Thank you, Sir James ! You have
taught us a lesson, and we will not be slow to learn. Sir,
1 am convinced that these meetings are doing eminent
service to our cause. The fact is, that there is at present
no practical belief in the existing distress, still less
any just apprehensions of the danger.—( Cheers.) The night
before last, whilst standing in the House of Lords, listening to
the statements of Lord Brougham, a lady of rank addressed a
Peer in such words as these. " How shocking these things are ;
do you believe them ?" The nobleman replied—" I believe they
are true, though I don't agree respecting the cause." The lady
rejoined—" I don't believe in the distress." Here was one of
the aristocracy disbelieving the fact, and another the remedy ;
and both agreeing in postponing redress. The melancholy
truth is, that the votaries of rank and fashion neither know the
miseries of the poor nor the dangers which every hour threaten
themselves.
" Oh ! little think the gay licentious proud,
Whom pleasure, power, and afluence surround ;
They who their thoughtless hours in giddy mirth,
And wanton, often cruel riot waste;
Ah ! little think they, while they dance along,
Ilow many feel, this very moment, death,
And all the sad variety of pain."—(Cheers. )
But the reign of delusion is fast drawing to a close.—( Hear.)
Distress is encircling our island.—( Hear.) It is drawing
nearer and nearer to the abodes of the rich, the gay, and the
thoughtless. That hunger, which has been borne with a
patience which the' well-fed have regarded with cold admire-
; tion, is doing its work.—( Hear.) It has kept the young from
school.—( Hear.) It has driven the daughter to prostitution.
—( Hear.) It has kept the man from the house of pra3er. It
has tempted him to infidelity.—( Hear, hear.) It is fast
turning him into a ravenous and reckless monster.
—( Hear, hear.) The law which forbids him to steal
his food, starves him at the same time ; and he is ceasing
to reverence it, and will soon cease to obey it. Evil advisers
are here, and he has nothing to do but to listen. The middle
classes, which have hitherto been the partition-wall—the safe-
guard and defence of the aristocracy, no longer able to obtain
for themselves a hearing, are fast becoming convinced that
the reign of terror must precede the return of justice, and are
preparing to be neutral spectators of that horrid conflict which
will ensue, when the oppressors stand naked in the presence
of the oppressed. —( Loud cheers ) In these circumstances,
we send forth once more the voice of warning to those who
are withholding corn from the people. We conjure them by
their recollections of the fate which has overtaken the usurping
aristocracy of other countries—( Hear )—we implore them,
by their love for those who belong to them, by their love of
themselves, to avert the evil which is at their doers. We call
upon those who fear God, and would be found doing His will,
to bestir themselves, and to exert that influence which,- ere long,
may be tried in vain. We call upon our constituents through-
out the kingdom, to strengthen our hands, 'by sending ns in lime
their representations and remonstrances. Peradventure, our
importunity may yet prevail, and our continual coming weary
our rulers into the doing of an act of justice. But, if alt efforts
should prove unavailing, we have this consolation, that we
did our duty. We have made our appeal to reason. We have
made our appeal to experience. We have preached pease, and
pursued it. We have sterol between the hungry and those who
created the famine.; and if, at last, the aristocracy of this king-
dom ru.h upon their own doom, their blood be upon their own
heeds, and the blood of those who may fall in the struggle for
that bread which God had provided, but which they have with-
held.—( Mr. Thompson sat 'down amidst great cheers. )
Mr. SHUTTLEWORTH said—l come from Manchester. lam
Manchester horn. lam not young. • I consider myself some-
what observant. I have stood closely connected with Man-
ehester by friendship and relationship, through not a short life ;
and though I have for a portion of my existence lived in dif-
ferent pares of England, have ever maintained an immediate
and extended knowledge of its state and condition, sustained by
constant correspondence and frequent visits. For the last eight or
nine years I have regularly dwelt in the place (as I had done at
a previous period for 26 years in succession), mingling with
its teeming. ingenious, and industrious population. I do
claim to have a somewhat enlarged acquaintance with tthe state
of my native town. Am I questioned as to its present com-
mercial condition ? I answer, I have more than once, twice,
or thrice seen it in a drooping afflicted state ; but I am corn-
riled to aver that I never, never knew it in so low, and sink-
ing, and wretched a condition, as it now is ; and I declare
that, though I have long since been forced to feel that this is
the case, it has even since that period continued to sink
lower and lower, and that its course is still a rapidly
downward one. When and where it is to be stayed
God only knows—the prospect is appalling in the extreme. Our
unemployed artisans are wandering about our streets and
suburbs in thousands, anxious to find employment to sustain
themselves and families, but are utterly unable • their tattered
garments and haggard countenances bespeak dieir deplorable
wretchedness, physically and mentally, and excites deer pity in
the hearts, and wring tears—l utter literal truth—and wrings
tears, from the eyes of many of our more considerate and hu-
mane inhabitants. And the real amount of our town wretched.
ness does not come under the notice of those who merely traverse
the streets, and the neighbourhood of our town. There are
amongst us who sympathise with our fellow-citizens, and who
enter those very localities. and those very cellars and garrets
where hundreds dwell—without food, without clothes, without
beds—who are sinking in obscurity and silence to the grave_
dying by inches. Our town missionaries and many other par-
ties can describe scenes of distress which come under their daily
notice, that would soften and melt hearts of stone. I aver, Sir,
that it is harrowing and afflictive to the spirit of humane men,
to be compelled to live among our manufacturing population.
And this distress is not of yesterday—it has been long endured,
and has been regularly augmenting for years, and has not ap-
parently as yet reached its ultimatum. Remember, too, it is
rapidly spreading upward in society. All classes are suffering
—from the merchant downward—and, Sir, it may soon reach
even those who, having the power to relieve us, I mean the
Government, pertinaciously refuse to abrogate those unrighte-
laws, to whose blighting influence these awful effects are
mainly to be attributed—the deservedly execrated Corn-laws,
Onr lowest orders, as a class, are already a wreck, and the
wasting desolation which has first seized them, is reaching and
seizing those placed above them, and is dragging them
also down into the same vortex. Our shop-
keepers and traders are rapidly declining and daily becoming
bankrupt—they are at their wits' end—stricken as with terror at
at the ruin which stares them in the face, and from which they
ciraint escape. I spoke with one, a draper, the other day,
standing at the door idling away his time, in the principal street
in the town, and he assured me that he firmly believed he could
himself, with ease, do all the business that was done in
his line in the whole town—without the assistroice of even
a 'prentice led. The remark staggered me far the moment,
but on reflection, and recollecting what I witnessed in the dra-
pers' shops in the heart of the town, 1 was not disposed to dis-
pute the statement. Our manufacturers are in an awful plight.
Oppressed with costly workshops and wareheuscs, and facto-
ries, from which they cannot relieve themselves, though in
many cases they ar' either closed or are only partiall open, and
if operating at all, operating to actual
mi losea,ytocsaaseys, to my
nothing
about c mon interest on capital sunk, our merchants are at
caelrotsasi
nw ;1
knowledge,at to do or
waiting
ntgo act, and
watching ehaling einmn
for supposed
able opportunities of diverting their capital out of ordinary com-
mercial transactions, or for quitting the country. All kinds
and all grades of tradesmen ve compelled to reduce their
establishments and expenses, and are even reducing the
number and the wages of their household and domestic servants.
Emigration to other lands is very prevalent; and this is not
confined to such of the operative classes as cannot find employ.
ment and scope-for their ingenuity in their native land, but is
the ease with individuals of a higher grade, who are escaping
with that wrack of their property yet remaining, determined to
seek homes for themselves and families in distant countries,
though their habits and affections, and connexions, and associa-

tions, still bind them to the land of their birth. Others, again,
there are, who would fain quit our shores, and seek settlement's
elsewhere, dill circumstances allow—but they arc bound, as by
chains of iron, to the spot on which they feel they must soon be
sacrificed, unless some speedy change takes place, bound by eh-
gagements and bonds, and wasted substance, and are thus ree
luctantly compelled to surrender themselves to their fate. Our
workhouse, which has long been one of the largest in the
kingdom, is at this hour undergoing great and expensive
enlargements. It has become far trio small to receive all the
applicants who legally claim admission, portions of whom are
already stowed in large buildings taken for the purpose, in dif-
ferent parts of the town. Our Poor-rates have just received
a considerable augmentation ; and an official person informed
me, only a few days before I left home, that it has since be-
come evident that the augmentation is not, by far, expected to
be adequate to meet the increasing demands. Nor need this
excite wonder ; protracted commercial depression, must con-
tinually increase the number of those who cannot pay, and
consequently augment the number of paupers, and, of course
add to the amount of claims do those who have the ability to
pay. Remember too, that thousands of pounds have been
raised among our charitable and more affluent townsmen, to
administer temporary relief to the wretched perishing poor
around them ; that hundreds upon hundreds are dis-
posing of their clothes and furniture, and are expending
the little Ea% itigs of their better days in order to sustain exist-
ence. And remember, too, that this is summer, and that its
claims are comparatively limited. Yes, seriously ponder this.
Let the thousands new pining in want, or who are only half
fed, and the thousands who contrive to exist on precarious, un-
certain, charitable, or other scanty supplies, be fed as the claims
of nature require, and as they ought to be. Let those who
have hitherto generously responded to the calls of hunger and
want, by which they are assailed, cease, as many of them will
soon be obliged to do, on account of their own reduced condi-
tion—let the houses of those who are now subsisting on what
they raise by disposing of their furniture and clothes, become
completely stripped--let the winter, with its cold and severity,
arrive, bringing in its train multiplied claims, as it shortly will,
what, oh ! what will be our sad condition ? Rates must be raised
to a fearful amount. Oh! the corning winter presents to the
soberest mind an appalling picture ! At present we are in a
deplorable condition, but no contemplative, right-minded citi-
zen in our district can look to the approaching winter without
trembling and alarm. Emphatically do I say, let the monopolists
beware—endurance must have its bounds. Must our popula-
tion perish before our eyes ? It has been said that our Premier
has a heart; we know our beloved Queen has. They can
serve, they can save us. If we perish the blood of thousands
upon thousands will lie at their door. Depend upon it, men of
chat acter, men of intelligence, men of loyalty and moral worth,
men who constitute the stamina, the muscles of civil society are
becoming desperate. Needless national sufferings like ours
will drive wise men mad. One township in our county has
been brought to a stand, and has found it utterly impossible to
raise its rates and feed its poor ; the claims af the masses of its
pauperised poor have overpowered the capabilities of the rate-
payers; and it has cast itself upon the Government. In this
wake we are rapidly following ; and so are many of our
neighbouring. towns. Stockport is doomed, without a speedy
change. No kind of investments are safe. One general ruin
threatens to overtake and overwhelm us all. We are in a most
deplorable state. He is a besotted, stupid imbecile, or has a
heart cased in steel, who is neither awake to the existing unpa-
ralleled distress, nor willing frankly to own it. Party spirit
can do, and has done much in this respect, but the sprinklings
of such stupid individuals is rapidly declining, and must shortly
vanish away. A friend of mine, who has been extensively en-
gaged in business, who is well acquainted with our merchants
and manufacturers, who is daily, anti in these days of ar.xious
idleness, almost hourly walking en 'Change, speaking the other
day of his own losses, and those of his fellow-tradesmen, ob-
served, '• Let any man on 'Change tell me he is doing well,
and I dare not trust him a shilling." And he, Sir, is no
prophet who reckons on a very speedy recovery from our pre-
sent deplorable condition ; and he who can reckon at all on the
arrival of a permanent restoration to vigorous commercial
health without freedom to trade, is a novice who must not be
trusted. He talks of what he does Lot comprehend. We may
cherish hope from the coming harvest • nay, on reflection, we
cannot. We must have trade, or our harvest, however abun-
dant, cannot find its way to the homes and the sto-
machs of our labouring poor. The wheat harvest, it is
said, by persons competent to judge, will not, in many parts of
the country, even under the most favourable circumstances,
prove more than an average crop, and should the weather be-
come unpropitious—and our clime in England is fickle—may
even yet prove a failure. We have little, indeed no hope from
the new corn scale and the revised tariff. Neither of them will
revive trade, and without trade, and were they in themselves
as really good as they are notoriously bad, to trust in them
would delude and cheat. H flesh meat, if coffee, if sugar,
were 50 per cent. lower than they are—and they might
be but for baneful monopolies—if flour, and meal, and rye,
were one-third or one-half less than they are—and they might
be but for the accursed Corn-laws—what would it avail if
working men had little or no employment ? To them
it is an insult anti a mockery to talk of cheapness
if they have no money—a cart load of provisions for a penny
would prove too dear for them, if they have not a farthing in
the world. But the prime necessaries of life are dear, and will
be so—they are taxed for this very purpose—of this we do, and
will complain. Let, however, our impious fiscal restrictions
be removed, and our wicked Corn-laws be abolished, and our
trade will revive. The distant parts of the world will send us
their pork, and beef, and mutten, and coffee, and tea, and
sugar, and corn, in exehange for our manufactures. Li thus
speaking I utter what is known and understood—l utter plain,
sober, truth—truth which must be rung in the ears of
our countrymen, till feeling its force, they rise up as one
man to assert their rights, and resolve to give their mono-
polising oppressors no rest, till right, and reason, 'and hu-
manity, and Christian principles prevail, to deliver the poor
that groan and cry under the grasp of a few rich, pampered,
proud, selfish lordlings and their clan, by whom, at present,
they are wronged, and crushed, and indirectly murdered.
Strong language, say you. Oh, that it were stronger than the
case requires ! Were it, my spirit, and the spirit of thousands
of my countrymen, would be delivered from a load of anxiety
and sorrow which language cannot depict. Give me a hear-
ing ; I speak with a full heart. I come from a district, the pre.-
sent history of which must be written in blackest ink, mingled
with wormwood and gall. It can furnish scenes of wretched-
ness as deep and as dark as ever were chronicled,
and, remember, the wretchedness is still gathering a darker
hue, and is still rushing onward in a rapid downward career.
And what is my conviction, and the conviction of thousands,
after mature and honest inquiry ? Why, that all this misery—
and we cannot enumerate a tithe of what really exies—is
mainly attributable to class legislation, which has placed on our
statute-books laws which cramp our trade, render provisions
scarce and dear, and starve our people. Dwelling where I
do—knowing what I do—feeling as 1 do—l must, I will give
utterance to my honest convictions, and denounce, in strong
terms, those impious restrictions which have plunged, and are
still deeper plunging my country—my fellow-creatures—my fel-
low-cenmtrymen, by thousands, into an abyss of wretchedness and
ruin. Justice, probity, humanity, philanthropy, cannot spare such
crying evils. Woe is me, if I denounce them not. 'I his heart
of mine must become recreant to my judgment, and to the
voice of conscience; it must be converted into stone ere I cease
to feel and speak strongly ; I must become a monster and no
man, a hater of my species, of my country, of my Queen, if,
with the clear conviction now possessed, I did not declare how
utterly I loathe and abhor the Corn-laws, which are overwhelm-
ing us with calamities not to be described. And
here, Sir, allow me to state, that I am a member of.
the Anti-Corn-law League; and that I am honestly
proud of my associates, and of the righteous agitation to which
they have given birth ; and I wish from the bottom of my heart
I had capabilities to serve the cause in a manner commensurate
to its importance and its holy purposes. The body has been
foully maligned. The object has been to bring it into disre-
pute, and to stay its opera! ions. Vain attempt. I know some-
thing of its workings, and of the men, too, by whom they are
conducted and sustained; and I will say that, taken as a whole,
for integrity, humanity, intelligence, patriotism, loyalty, and
for religion too, a more honourable, right-hearted body
of men were never banded together to seek the attain-
ment of any great national object.—( Hear, hear.) A
newly-fledged, hair-brained Yorkshire senator has ventured
to assail the League, and been cheered on in his wild course by
the Bread-taxers in the House of Commons. And what then ?
He sought notoriety, and he has gained it. But such notoriety
very few men indeed would like to wear. Of this gentleman
I know little, but what he has taught rue, in the inimitable
speeches he has delivered against the League and others. As-
suredly they are rare instances of his love for truth, and of his
ability to teach. He has, indeed, by his labours to enlighten
those once applauding friends who set around him, most des.
perately scorched not a few of their own dear friends. He had
better tes quiet, except he is reckless of his own character, and
that of those who most support his party. To serve his friends
he should be chained to his kennel, for he knows riot when
to bark aria when to bite. I know something, how-
ever, of the gentlemen who constitute that portion
of the League immediately connected with Manchester, and I
do think, nay, 1 am sure, taking the character of his
speeches as my test, not one of them can suffer by a
comparison with him for prudence, truthfulness, and moral
worth. I have a strong opinion that their aggregate respecta-
bility would not be very much raised if they attached to their
cause the name he hears ; nay, I assure him this, I imagine.
would be true, even if he should prove a much more discreet
and intelligent person than his wonderful speeches warrant one
to suppose. If the League are a mistaken body, let their er-
rors be pointed out ; they fear not discussion—they rather
court it ; but honourable men, and valuable citizens ought not
to have their characters unjustly traduced. I rather think that
even their opponents begin to think that for such work Busfield
Ferrand is not the man. His notable inquiry has ended in smoke,
save and except it has covered him and them well its filth.
Of the League and its operations I will venture further to say
that it has, not only tended greatly to enlighten and disabuse
the public mind, on many subjects connected with our perma-
nent national welfare, but its iefluence has proved very bene-
ficial in calling forth the patience, and in preserving the peace
of the country, and especially of those districts from which I
come. Its existence and its movements ought to be hailed, in
this respect, as a signal rational blessing. It has done more to
preserve the peace than all our rural and town police, with our
new-made magistrates to boot. In its existence our suffering
people have hone—in its teachings they see an infallible remedy.
While it lives they are favoured with a gleam of light to which
eatchnihae,alynfi:teeloto,ocwkelehaiandtwricitteaohenl:talihneeoyfra(iinistsipeatxipoenetaotfionthethaptresietnt may per-
chance
in which they are enveloped. Let it cease to exist,
look
i ?t
be I
aenlrhriesetanliedsisn go
f-
saaidm
thsuatreanthyeyof lhiaisvedoilnitgtlse,
since he assumed power, are calculated to inspire their cond-
kdennocweiedgmHi:
n ttariff
t h sferaelee-,t
rtandoeugphrillacikpilneds, ofa rea;
miserably defective and partial, as to mock and insult them in
their sufferings. Let the League expire, and Hope
may be con-
verted into despair; and when a people become desperate, who
can say to what lengths their despair may drive them 9 We ex-
hort to peace ; we deprecate physical force ; we teach loyalty to
our Sovereign and obedience to our rulers; but we constitution-
ally tell the people and tell the Government, and tell our beloved
Queen, that legislation which protects the richest men in the
world and refuses to protect the poor, is an awful crime in the
sight of man and God, and that we will not cease to cry out
against the abomination until it be removed. We point to the
evils it inflicts ; and alas ! we do it now with aching hearts, cover-
ing, as it is, cur land with mourning and sack-cloth. True, the
spirits of the people are breaking down, their patience is
becoming, exhausted—lone-retarded justice, with bungling at-
tempts at legislation, which mock and leave unrelieved their

sufferings, is fixing on their minds a gloom and despondency

not to be witnessed without alarm.

Our advance's are so

tardy, and long between, that at times they almost doubt
whether or not we have adyanned at all. They are becoming
deaf to our appeals, when we try to inspire them with hope.
The attempt begins to agitate and rouse, at least, till we gain
their attention and appeal to facts. A time was, we say, when
we could not be heard in our so-called Commons' House of

Parliament—whf•n the q•.testioo was, comparatively speaking,
little understood, cither at St. James's or elsewhere—when the

Press was scarcely employed at all on the subject—when the
agricultural districts were hermetically sealed against the
repealers' agents and books—when the ministers of the Gospel
stood aloof from any interference—when the subject was gene-
rally considered in the light of a mere political squabble.
Remember, too, we say, the strength of that prepossession, and
prejudice, and ignorance, and selfishness, with which we have
to conflict—prese.nting an array of opposition, before which,
hearts, less actuated by principle, founded on conviction and
patriotism, than those by which many of the leading men of
the League are animated, would long ere this not only have
quailed, but fled. We still say there is hope; and assure them
that we will continue to acquit ourselves like men, and never
abandon them, and their, and our, and our country's cause.
Now, w 9 say, we will be able to secure discussion in the Parlia.