in Aid Act,) which will come into operation shortly after Christmas,
but could not possibly be brought into operation sooner, I do
fervently hope and believe that this great manufacturing district
will be spared the further humiliation of coming before Parliament,
which ought to be the last resource, as a claimant, a suppliant for
the bounty of the nation at large. I don't apprehend that there will
be a single dissentient voice raised against the resolution which I
have now the honour to move."

SONGS OF DISTRESS,
CHIEFLY WRITTEN DURING THE COTTON FAMINE.

STANZAS TO MY STARVING KIN IN THE NORTH.
BY ELIZA COOK.

Sad are the sounds that are breaking forth
From the women and men of the brave old North!
Sad are the sights for human eyes,
In fireless homes, 'neath wintry skies;
Where wrinkles gather on childhood's skin,
And youth's "clemm'd" cheek is pallid and thin;
Where the good, the honest--unclothed, unfed,
Child, mother, and father, are craving for bread!
But faint not, fear not--still have trust;
Your voices are heard, and your claims are just.
England to England's self is true,
And "God and the People" will help you through.

Brothers and sisters! full well ye have stood,
While the gripe of gaunt Famine has curdled your blood!
No murmur, no threat on your lips have place,
Though ye look on the Hunger-fiend face to face;
But haggard and worn ye silently bear,
Dragging your death-chains with patience and prayer;
With your hearts as loyal, your deeds as right,
As when Plenty and Sleep blest your day and your night,
Brothers and sisters! oh! do not believe
It is Charity's GOLD ALONE ye receive.
Ah, no! It is Sympathy, Feeling, and Hope,
That pull out in the Life-boat to fling ye a rope.

Fondly I've lauded your wealth-winning hands,
Planting Commerce and Fame throughout measureless lands;
And my patriot-love, and my patriot-song,
To the children of Labour will ever belong.
Women and men of this brave old soil!
I weep that starvation should guerdon your toil;
But I glory to see ye--proudly mute--
Showing SOULS like the HERO, not FANGS like the brute.
Oh! keep courage within; be the Britons ye are;
HE, who driveth the storm hath His hand on the star!
England to England's sons shall be true,
And "God and the People" will carry ye through!

THE SMOKELESS CHIMNEY
BY A LANCASHIRE LADY {1} (E.J.B.)

STRANGER! who to buy art willing,
Seek not here for talent rare;
Mine's no song of lo