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good ones, when, as in 1859 and '60, I wish, in conclusion, to guard the the most enormous profits are made. public against the ill-considered remarks Such circumstances, of course, must which are too frequently written about severely try the stability of co-operative co-operation. For instance, in a prosocieties. When the co-operative cotton spectus of the Manchester co-operative mill was commenced at Rochdale, the manufactory, I find the following prosperous condition of the trade en passage : “ The working classes will couraged the working classes to sub- “ultimately secure by co-operation all scribe their capital freely; and it is “the fruits of their labour.” Upon a heavy disappointment that, almost this, Mr. Commissioner Hill most justly directly their mill is opened, the remarks: “I conscientiously believe that American crisis arises, and the cotton “ they have hitherto secured the fruits trade is thrown into a state of the most “ of their own labour; but that, by deplorable stagnation. Time can only “ means of co-operation, they will add to show whether the shareholders of the “ labour the wealth-producing elements Rochdale manufactory will bear the “ of capital and management." The trial. I learn from Mr. Ashworth, production of wealth requires the applithe intelligent manager of the mill, cation both of capital and labour. If that, at the present time, the mill is the labourers supply the capital, then, working only four days a-week. He of course, they have a claim to all the also says that, up to the present time, wealth which they produce; but hitherto the shareholders have shown great for- the labouring classes in our own country bearance; that they seem prepared to have been either too poor or too imcontend with the difficulty. At any provident to save. Capital, therefore, rate, their confidence in the ultimate has been necessarily supplied by others, success of the principle seems unabated, and the remuneration which the capitalist for the erection of the second mill is being receives is termed his profit. Let it not vigorously prosecuted. The co-operatives be supposed that, when the wealth promay learn a valuable lesson from the duced is shared between profits and experience which this time of trial wages, the division can be adjusted by affords; for it should impress them with any other than the most definite laws. the importance of forming a large reserve- Wages are and must ever be regulated fund when trade is good, in order to by the ratio which the capital of the meet the difficulties of bad times. If country bears to the number of the the co-operative cotton manufactories population. How wrong is it then for can survive the cotton crisis, the future men to speak as if there was an ansuccess of the movement may be re- tagonism between capital and labour ! garded as guaranteed, for these societies Labour is, in fact, supported and fed by can never have to undergo a more capital; and, if the capital of a country severe trial. If, however, on the other increases, the wages paid to the labourer hand, the co-operative manufactories must increase. The extension of coshould succumb to these difficulties, it operation will, no doubt, tend more than would be most unfair to condemn the any other cause to enrich the labouring co-operative principle. The failure of a class. It offers them an inducement to co-operative cotton manufactory ought save, such as they never had before ; to have no influence in diminishing our and, directly they save sufficient to proconfidence in co-operative stores. Such vide themselves with the capital which a failure would only prove that the their labour requires, they will be able principle of co-operation had been, to appropriate to themselves those profits perhaps, too hastily applied to a branch which others receive because the workof trade which is subject to great ing classes have not yet acquired the GONE!

BY THE HON. MRS. NORTON.

Gone! gone! the bells toll on,
But still the death-news seeins to stun:
The sudden loss, the warning brief,
Bids wonder mingle with our grief !
Like fearful heralds sent to know
If life's defeat were true or no,
Our startled thoughts went forth to meet
Dark rumour in the busy street,
And less lamenting, than dismayed,
Our frozen tears were strangely stayed.
What-He, whose busy brain had planned
So much for his adopted land-
He, who had yet scarce turned the page
Dating past youth to 'middle age,
The counsellor of wisdom proved,
The chosen of a Queen beloved,
In prime of life and princely rank,
Gone ?-gone : fill up the blank !

Gone! Even now, to wintry gales
The foreign ships have spread their sails,
Bringing the beauty and the boast
Of other realms to Britain's coast.
The busy rout of lading past,
The shifting cargoes all made fast,
Freed from the shouting and the din,
The motley treasures rest within.
Tasks toiled at with a loving pain,
The anxious work of hand and brain,
Lie buried in each silent hold:
Rich stuffs, and carcanets of gold,
And cereal things, whose gathered store
Competing greets our fertile shore,
And sculptured statues, soon to rise
Like apparitions on our eyes,
And complicated wheels, which rest
In muffled coverings, strangely drest,
Till the bright slave of human skill,
Set free to work his master's will,
With whirring hum, and dim low moan,
Some wondrous motive-power makes know

These come :—He schemed their meeting here: To Him that rivalry was dear : His tourney of the arts of peace, , The world's production and increase.

These come .—and, with them, many a man
Of earnest thought and active plan :
His voice should praise,–His smile should thank,
Gone! gone! fill up the blank !

Gone! A murmur thrills the deep; The earth lies in perturbed sleep; Hot tumults fill the lands afar With restless chance of coming war; And England's gallant sons departBrief preface to their hurried start; Marchings and gatherings to and fro, And sobs repressed, of woman's woe, With lingering watch of crowded decks Till white sails fade to cloud-like specks; And shouts that, following with the brave, Roll in dim echoes o'er the wave. Where's He who took such proud delight In his adopted country's might, Who bade“God speed !” with kind farewell To those who fought, and those who fell, When, bound for Balaclava's shore, They marshalled by the palace door ? His loyal heart no more shall hear The readying word—the martial cheer; The boasting of a people free, “ Victoria and victory," No more shall thrill that clay-cold breast; Nor bugle-call shall break his rest; Nor steel-ciad horseman's measured clank ; Gone! gone! fill up the blank !

Gone! The light new-fallen snow
Scarce hides, as yet, the purple glow
On Scottish mountains far away,
Where He made summer holiday.
Real holiday! The pomps forgot,
And cumber of a Royal lot;
Glad useful leisure to employ
In simpler life, and homelier joy.
The summer shall return again
Though wintry winds now sweep the glen-
The mavis rear her tuneful brood
In thickets of the vernal wood-
The cold grey lake in glory shine
With jewelled hues when suns decline-
Or ripple in the morning bright,
As though it smiled to see the light !
But where the last year's primrose blew
A widow's tears may drop for dew;
And where the birch its tassels hung
The coronach may now be sung;
For summer's warmth nor autumn's glow

Nor spring make glad that lone lake's bank,
Gone! gone! fill up the blank !

Gone! gone! With trembling moan
That note of mourning dieth down,
And silvery Christmas chimes begin,
And joy-bells ring the New Year in.
The gather'd groups of gladness stand
In many a home throughout the land,
And one sweet phrase, from door to door,
Is eloquent to rich and poor :
“A merry Christmas," still we hear,
And “Happy be the coming year!”

But in the highest home of all
A bitter silence now must fall,
And sobbing hearts shall yearn in vain
To bring the Old Year back again.
Oh! then and now-last year and this-
Father and Friend whose gifts they miss,
Husband whose kind and noble face
Hath vanish'd from the vacant place,
What thoughts, what prayers, can lesser make
The anguish suffer'd for thy sake?

The Widow's wintry coif is there!
Its snowdrift hides her shining hair,-
And men may weep who now behold,
Remeinbering all its bands of gold
In her youth's high triumphal day,
Lit by the unexpected ray
Which still its gentle halo shows
Where. Leslie's magic canvas glows; 1
When deck'd, with sceptre and with globe,
And glittering in Dalmatian robe,
The girlish form knelt gently, down,
To rise the wearer of a crown;
And o'er that spot where, old and good,
The mild Ecclesiastic stood,
To give, with his religious hand,
Her consecration of coinmand,
And while reverberate shouts that hailed
England's new monarch, yet prevailed,
A sunbeam like a glory fell
From Gothic arch and pinnacle,
As though it were God's blessing shed
Upon that reverent youthful head.

i Leslie's picture of the Coronation represents an actual fact, in the management of the light which streams down on the Coronation group. The morning, which had been fitful and cloudy, suddenly brightened at that moment, and the Queen's fair hair Bowed is that head !bowed low once more ! But not as in the days of yore; Not with the future opening bright A dream of splendour to her sight; Not where the shouting lieges crowd ; Alone-in grief-her head is bowed. Her sad eyes watch the fire-light gleams; Her weary soul hath humbler dreams; Roaming from Osborne's seagirt bowers, By royal Windsor's moated towers, To vaults where flowers lie, dark and dank :Gone ! gone ! fill up the blank !

She kneels. The God who sent the gain,
Hath sent the loss—decreed the pain.
She prays--as when that ray was born
Which lit her coronation morn;
And who shall doubt the blessing falls,
Though light forsake the cheerless walls !
That God who gives and takes away
Best knows how hard it is to say,
“Thy will be done,” at His command ;
Or see the working of His hand
When, sweeping with a storm of loss
The garden of our hopes across,
He makes our Paradise of good
A desert and a solitude.
Oh! path with mourning ashes strown,
Oh! track that we must tread alone,
Hast thou indeed the selfsame bourne
As that from which our feet must turn ?
Whose long glad vista seemed to show,
Set in a misty golden glow,
Calm violet clouds beyond whose veil •
The stars, up-gliding clear and pale,
Grew brighter as our fading day
In those soft shadows died away,-
Earth's darkness but a prelude given
To harmonies of light in heaven!

That aspect of sweet life must change;
Our souls keep watch where all is strange ;
In the new path so chill and drear,
When the strength falters, who shall cheer?
From the lone track so blank and wide,
If the feet wander, who shall guide ?
What fountain for our thirst shall pour,
Since the dull gravestone covers o'er
That well of love, whereat we drank ?
Gone! gone! fill up the blank !

i Her Majesty and the young Princesses sent wreaths of flowers from Osborne, to place on the coffin of the lamented Prince

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