indeed, lived with him, was reduced by want to
leave him and go away to the workhouse. The
man was left alone and died. My informant
was a gentleman holding office in the workhouse
itself. Bearing in mind such a statement as
this, it must be owned, too, that some of the
announcements of sudden deaths which one reads
in the local newspapers have an ominous look,
and read rather awkwardly. In a copy of one of
these prints, these two paragraphs follow each
other-. " SUDDEN DEATH IN PENN-STREET.—
Yesterday afternoon an inquest was held at the
White Lion Inn, Yorkshire-street, on Mary
Greenwood, a widow, aged 69 years, of 15,
Blossom-place, Penn-street, who was found
dead in bed at eight o'clock on Thursday morning."
— " SUDDEN DEATH AT HAMER-BOTTOMS.
—To-day an inquest will be held at the High
Sheriff Inn, Hamer-bottoms, on the body of
James Buckley, aged 54 years, woollen weaver,
who died suddenly at six A.M. on the 19th
instant. Deceased has been subject to asthma,
but no medical man attended him." Here is a
case, at any rate, of " DEATH FROM WANT.—
An inquest was held at the Coroner's Court
yesterday by Mr. Herford, on the body of an
old woman named Martha Boardman, 68 years
of age, late of Bury-street, Store-street
(Manchester). On Tuesday morning the deceased
fell off the sofa between three and four o'clock.
Her husband put her on the sofa, and left her,
as he thought, asleep. He returned about nine
o'clock, and as she did not speak, he thought
she was dead. A relieving officer came in, and
said she was dead. The couple were living in
great want, and her husband attributed her
death to this cause. One of the witnesses said
that the deceased and her husband had had
neither fire nor food for three weeks, except
what the neighbours gave them. Mr. Roberts,
of the Infirmary, was of opinion that death had
been caused by cold and want of food. Verdict
—'Died from disease of the kidneys, aggravated
by cold and want.'"

There are many hopeful considerations
connected with this distress in the cotton districts
which we shall do well to bear in mind. Good
has already come out of the evil, and more good
will come yet. What a wonderful thing it is
that at no single moment of this trouble, in no
one locality where it has prevailed, has there
been any riot among the people, nor even any
amount of grumbling and discontent! I do not
seek to prove too much, or to assert that the
Lancashire people are immaculate. There are
the usual number of black sheep among them;
or, I should hardly have said, perhaps, the usual
number, but there are some. The proprietors of
certain mills which are still working, have had
to complain that certain of their hands have
deserted the works because they could get a
trifle more out of the Relief Committee and
the various charitable institutions, than they
were earning with reduced wages at the mill.
But these cases are very few, and are the
inevitable defects in all human attempts at
organisation. These are piping times, of course,
for the regular shameless beggar, who,
depending at all times on charity, now has a
double pull on the parish and on the Relief
Committee as well. Such defects cannot but
exist in any system, and it is delightful to think
that in this present case the good predominates
enormously over the evil. I heard of
a good fellow who, receiving two shillings a
week less than the allowance given by the
Relief Fund, said, "Never mind, I'll stick to
it as long as it goes on," and worked his three
or four days a week at the reduced wages,
manfully.

As to the good things done by the poor people
among themselves, we hear, no doubt, but of a
few of them. At Rochdale there are two kinds
of mills—cotton mills and woollen mills. Of
course these last are working as usual, and
among the hands there are regular weekly
contributions for the benefit of their less fortunate
fellow-labourers. The pennies given by those
mill-girls are, no doubt, contributed at some
sacrifice. I was told that in Rochdale alone as
much as five hundred pounds has been
contributed in this way since the commencement of
the distress.

Is it not surprising, again, that throughout
the whole of this time the people have behaved
with such remarkable quietness and order?
Nay, once at Blackburn, when the apple of
discord was thrown into the place, when certain
riots took place about the game-laws, à propos
of the arrest of some poachers— when thus a
beginning was made, which at such a time, with
so many unemployed men about, one would
have thought was like setting fire to a train of
gunpowder—no evil consequences ensued, the
temporary irritation soon cooled down, and the
popular anger was not diverted, as might
naturally have been apprehended, into some new
and more dangerous channel. It is not asserting
too much, nor claiming too much credit for the
Press, to say that this good and quiet behaviour
of these suffering people is in some degree to be
attributed to the spread of cheap literature, and
the great increase of reading among the lower
classes which has resulted therefrom. The people
are taught now to reason about their misfortunes.
They learn that no tyranny is being exercised
over them. They see that they are not ill used;
but that, on the contrary, all that can be done for
them is done. This they learn in a great degree
through the agency of the Press, and learning
this, they are patient.

It is possible that an idea may exist in some
minds that there must be many outward
indications in the streets and byways of those cotton
towns of the want and suffering endured by the
inhabitants. Any one who visited these regions
expecting to find such scenes as Flaxman has
depicted in his Acts of Mercy would be
disappointed. People do not lie starving in the
streets, nor clamour after the passer-by for bread
as he walks along. There is little begging, and
what there is, is done, probably, by the habitually
poor. The real sufferers suffer in secret.
Their misery wears a decent veil: it is not