We discover, then, by this brief analysis of the great riot, that social outbreaks of this kind have their immediate and tangible causes, which are superficial in their character, and vary with the occasion; that these causes depend for their disturbing power upon others which are more fundamental, and which inhere in the nature of our present social relations; that so long as the wealthy and intelligent classes shall decline the permanent guardianship and organized care of the poor and ignorant masses, the liability to such recurrences will remain; that when they break forth, the safety of community and mercy to the rioters alike demand that the mob be scattered on the instant by an iron and relentless hand; and, finally, that the only method by which society will be permanently and effectually freed from a liability to the terrors of mob-rule, is the reorganization of its economical arrangements in such a manner that the miseries of poverty and ignorance shall be forever removed from the community, and a social providence be firmly established which shall secure physical comfort and kindly sympathy to all classes of citizens.
THE DESERTED HOUSE.
A PRE-RAPHAELITE PICTURE FROM NATURE.
It was left long ago,
And the rank weeds grow
Where the lily once bent her head;
Thick and tall they grow,
And some lying low,
Beaten down by a human tread.
And the laughing sun,
When the day's nearly done,
Looks in on the cheerless floor;
And falleth the rain
Through the broken pane—
Shrill whistles the wind at the door.
And the thistles stand
At the gate where no hand
Ever lifts the latch, now nailed fast:
One gate low doth lie
Which the passer by
Treads o'er as he hurries past.
On the fence close by
Where the sunbeams lie
Doth the kingly Nightshade blow;
But the Asters tall
That grew by the wall
Have vanished long ago.
Not now, as of old,
Blooms the gay Marigold,
Looking in at the kitchen door;
And the Cypress red
Is long since dead,
And the Monkhood blossoms no more.
But the Hopvine still
By the window sill
Is as full as in days of yore;
And the Currants grow
As thickly now
And as ripe as e'er before.