6 66 to make of him. Then,' says I'what will you at last, by the greatest seamanship it arrived at give me?' the other side, and hardly had it got there, when 6. More than you can carry.' I heard a voice saying, “ Ay, faith, if I wor to tell the truth (thinking Mightily obliged to you, Mister Russell. It's of the handcuffs), it's you that would, and more you that's a dacent man, to take my boat out of than I'd wish to carry. I'd surely have my the water, clean it for me, and enable me to get hands full, at all events. Well,' said I, aloud, to over that dirty bit of water. It's five hundred them, “if you only stop until I shoe this horse, and fifty-five thousand years, nine months, fourPll bring Tom Russell to you.' teen days, six hours, forty-five minutes, and Ay, but we are in a hurry twenty seconds, that myself and my shell have “• Faith,' answers I, you must wait then until been lyin' there; and though many a one has your hurry is over; for I'll never bring Tom seen the distress I was in, there was nobody but Russel to yees, until I have done shoeing this yourself ever thought of helpin' me. Beyond horse. So, if you like, go and take a drop in money, or the eatin' and the drinkin', ask me for that gin-shop over the way; and all I can say is, what you like, and I'll give it to you. that if any thing could bring the same man to “ • Then faith, your honour, these are just the you, it would be the hope of getting a fine big very things I would like to have; but sure you drink. But mind, you're not to expect me until can save me from being cotcht in the regard of I shoe this horse.' Mick Ryan?' “ And sure it was only the real fact that I tould Make yourself aisy, Tom,' says the voice, them; for I never finished shoeing the poor beast: for from this day out they might as well try to from that day to this. The very instant they lay hold of a sunbame, as place their unnatural turned their backs, I never stopped to ask the paws upon you.' master for my week's wages-indeed, to the • And may be,' says I, “your glory would tell best of my opinion I had got in my pocket that me how to make money yet?' morning more for him than would pay myself “Yes,' says the voice, “as sure as you've a for a month, and I was in too great a hurry to nose on your face, and how to get it in the lot. stop and settle the account—but out I cut, and tery, too; and it's this way_'" made my way back to poor ould Ireland again, “What way?" asked the talkative Mary where, after all, one man that hath killed another Walsh. (by accident) has a far better chance of keeping “Bother!" replied the fairy man, “ I'm not so out of the sight of that migthy unbecoming drunk yet, that I'm going to tell you all my saornament, a judge's black cap, than he has in crets. But listen to our discoorse, and if you England. can't stop talking any other way, put a pewter “I kept wandering, and meandering, and not mug on your countenance, and never cease knowing where to go, like a dog in a fair, until drinkin'. one day I was passing through the Bothered “Then please your magnificence,' said I to Glen, that you all know is on the other side of the voice, how am I to make out my livin' while Slievenaman, and lay down there on the other I am waitin' for my own ticket to be drawn?' side of the streame, as tired of myself as a tinker ** Turn fairy-doctor,' said he, and I'll stand of his wallet." to you like a brother.' Tom Russel here took a full glass of strong • • And where will I settle?' says I. whiskey as if for the purpose of giving a fillip “• Where they'll ask you for no rint,' says he. to his imagination, and then proceeded. “ • Ah! then where's that?' “ As I had nothing else in the world to do, I “On the top of Slievenaman, where you'll be kept looking at the clear streame that was brawl- above all the landlords in the county.' in' and brawlin' about my ears, as noisy and as • Thank your honour,' I said ; .but now, may furious as a schoolmaster, in a passion, and be you'd let me look at you, bekase I never seen gazing down at the little pebbles that the water a fairy!' had made as smooth as marbles, when what " • Troth, and Tom,' says he, • I don't like doin' should I see lying in the middle of them but a that same, as I have been so long down there, great big white cockle-shell. •Arrah, then,' says that I am really nothing better than in my dishyI, putting my hand down in the stream, what bill.' in the world brought a cockle-shell, may be all “ • If you arn't shaved, you're well washed any the way from Bonmahon, to lie down here in the how,' observed myself, you've been so long in Bothered Glen?' the strame. But don't be ashamed to let us see “ With that I took it, cleaned it in the end of you, for I'm not the prettiest object to look at my cravat, and as I had no other means of di- either, no more nor your highness.' vartin' myself, I put it down on the strame again, Well, here I am for you,' he said. to see if it could swim. • Where?' said I. 66 • Here!' “May be I wasn't surprised when I saw it sail away beautifully rising up and down so iligant- " • Ah! then is it houldin' me out you are ; for ly over the waves, just like a boat in a rough the never a thing I see but the cockle-shell, and sea, and exactly as if there was somebody in- nothing in it?' side of it taking about hither and thither, to keep ". What a bosthoon you must be, not to see from the big stones in the middle of the brook, me!' and that if it hit against one of them wouldn't "• Faith, if you wor the size of a midge itself, leave it fit for a pinkeen to look at. At long and I couldn't but re-cog-nise you,' I bawled out, and VOL. XXIX. JULY, 1836.-20 6 1 selves to commit such an unnatral act, though it authority of his parent was not to be interfered were to revenge the deepest wrong that man with, although unacquainted with the cause of iver bowed beneath.-Can I say this now?"—he its being exercised. continued, with a vehement and quickened tone After the space of a few minutes O'Shane that amounted almost to ferocity—“no, girl!- walked to the window. He took up a pen that though I were to give my right hand, you know was in a broken tea-cup full of ink on the ledge I could not." of the casement, and looked round him with unTears had at first risen to Grace's eyes, and certainty. only through a convulsive effort were they It was the custom of O'Shane when his signakept from overflowing; but as her father's voice ture was required to make an O's. These were grew firmer, as his scorn and indignation be- the only letters he could form, and the ink was came more apparent, the struggle on her part kept for this purpose. appeared less difficult. He now laid down the pen, and went to It seemed she sought the dignity of firmness to Grace's room; thence he returned with the supply that of innocence; but this was not so child's shift which he had found that morning on easily attained, for when O’Shane paused, an ex- her bed. Upon it he wrote those two letters, pression only of stupid horror was in her fixed and calling to Rory, desired that he would take looks. it to the magistrate at 04, whom he designat“ I had no warrant for my pride this mornin',” ed by his name. Rory pretended not to hear. resumed the father; “ I was deceived where I He was sitting with his head on his knees, cling. had put my trust, and that a trust of long stand- ing to Grace's petticoat. The figure of his other in'. But no matter :-only, as you are not what son caught O'Shane's eye, and he repeated the I have been pleased to think, you may expect message to him. Richard O'Shane received it to find mechanged too. There are a few words in silence, and quitted the cabin. Twenty mito settle 'tween us two, that is all." nutes or more might have elapsed after his deGrace remained silent. parture, undisturbed except by the noise of the The voice of the father faltered, as he put the old man's nailed shoes, as with stern looks and following interrogatory remark. “I believe you folded arms he paced up and down the room, or to be consarned in the theft of Squire Clifford's perhaps also by Rory's light-breathed sighs, child ?" when, lifting up his head, he cast a furtive glance She did not answer. around him, and again dropped it between his “ You are not afear'd to behave basely, but hands. you are afear'd to own to 't.” The attitude of Grace was still unchanged. The girl started. Instead of shrinking under She stood fixed like a statue to the spot-her his searching glance, her figure drew up stiflly, features as rigid as her limbs--her respiration and her countenance assumed greater calmness scarcely perceptible. and resolution. Once when the boy looked up, he perceived “Did you entrap this infant ?" he continued, that his father had sunk into a chair, with his sternly. head thrown back and his eyes closed. There “I did.” was in his face an expression of pitiable O'Shane seemed almost to choke. wretchedness, which he in vain endeavoured to “Had you any 'complices in that act ?" conceal under the appearance of a just resentGrace shook her head. ment. “ What's done with the child ?" Softly gliding from his place, Rory approached “ I have sold it!" and took the poor man's hand. Then encou“You have sold flesh and blood! To whom ?" raged by the passive gentleness with which it “ To mother Gurney." was yielded, the boy endeavoured by caresses “ And did that woman counsel you the theft, to draw O’Shane into conversation, but met with or did you yield only to your ain wicked no success in these attempts. He asked if his thoughts ?" father was ill, and received only a silent press“ 'Twas Mother Gurney asked me." ure of the hand. “What might be the price o’your iniquity ?" • Father," he said gently, “ we'll miss Grace The daughter put her right hand into her bo- very much if she's away.” som, and drawing forth a piece of gold, held it O’Shane opened his eyes, and looked angrily before him in her open palm, while with the left at him. she pointed to the gay madras upon her head. But the boy, undismayed, went on. “What O'Shane Alung the coin to the ground, then will you do, when there's no victuals ready, and rising with violence, tore off the handkerchief you hungry and weary?—when you're cold and and threw it from him. During this violence wet, and there's no fire? Not a soul,” he still she only bowed her face, nearly concealed as it continued, unwarned by the threatening looks was by the long locks thus unfastened. that he encountered; "not a soul to dry your A pause ensued. The father was exhausted clothes, and to mend 'em when they're fallin' off by the effects of his indignation; the daughter your back-and to put your bed ready—and to was reduced to a state of apparent stupefac-keep the house free from sperrits and bad luck! tion; Rory was too frightened and too miserable and to sing to make your heart aisy!” to give utterance to his feelings. A deep and fearful oath interrupted Rory. One of the elder sons had entered meanwhile “ Have done !-have done!" cried Grace, as ind seated himself at a distance, aware that the if starting from a trance. ** Sure he's ower glad to be quit of one, who when she lave his doors IJer salon is magnificent, shall never throuble him again." Each panel gaily deck'd “Oh, Father -oh, Grace !-what'll we do With mirrors--and how beautiful now?" sobbed Rory. “Oh, bad luck to us!- The form which they reflect! oh, marciful goodness !”—and while he was And proud she looks !--but why is she wringing his hands, and uttering every ejacu So lonely in her pride ? lation of sorrow that presented itself to his ex- She was the Lady of my Lord cited mind, the door was thrown open by Ri Before she was his Bride! chard, who ushered in two constables. “This is your prisoner,” O'Shane said, sullenly II. indicating his daughter. The men regarded the unfortunate girl with surprise. “She's your pri- In days of yore that mansion was soner!" repeated the father more violently, and A hospitable scene; he turned away. The officers of justice laid hold At Chrismas-time a merry place of Grace, who suffered herself to be conducted Its hall hath ever been. to the door. Rory flung himself at his sister's And there are Nobles dwelling near, feet; twining his arms around her knees, he wept Why stand they all aloof? convulsively. The men were obliged forcibly to Why doth no neighbour Lady, now, remove him; but they were struck with pity at Appear beneath that roof? this unusual scene. One of them asked Grace if Why hath each festive project faild, she had nothing to say, adding, they were in no Whene'er it hath been tried ? hurry. She was the Lady of my Lord The young girl, who without murmur or hesi. Before she was his Bride! tation had submitted to the authority of the law, on being thus addressed turned for an instant III. round. She lifted her large piercing eyes to the spot where O'Shane still remained. An inde- I've seen her at her Town abode, scribable expression hovered over her face, as In London's busy springshe made a farewell gesture with her hand upon Her Lord hath to the Levee goneher lips. Been welcomed by the King. “Father, your daughter says, Good bye!" But why, when all of equal rank “ You are no daughter of O'Shane's!” he cried. Pay homage to the Queen“God help me!"-added the old man with frenzy, Say-wherefore at the Drawing Room “ am I O'Shane myself ?" Iath she been never seen ? To her-despite her coronetThe extraordinary manner in which this The entree is denied : criminal had been convicted for child-stealing She was the Lady of my Lord the youth and ignorance of the poor creature Before she was his Bride! and the fact that through her confessions the lost infant was traced and restored to its family, cre IV. ated a supposition that her case would be considered with indulgence. Yet she will give a noble feast : Whether, however, from the dubious light in The services of plate, which the morals of this family were viewed, or The viands, wines, appointments, all the fear of such a crime's recurrence, or the im Shall rival regal state! possibility of treating it with greater lenity, the And she shall boast of high-born guests, daughter of O'Shane was sentenced to trans And she shall number, then, portation for seven years. The wits, the sages, of the day, On the day of this decision the rest of the fa Yet none, alas! but men! mily removed from the country, and it has never Why sits no Lady at the board, been known what became of them. Save those by blood allied ? Those who saw the unfortunate O'Shane pre- She was the Lady of my Lord viously to his departure remarked in him so Before she was his Bride! great a change, that they predicted he would not V. long survive his daughter's sentence. H. R. How gorgeous is her equipage! And to some public fete, Where money can procure access, She goes in all her state ! of station like her own, So curiously gaze, as if On one before unknown? And, having seen the stranger once, Why stand they all aside ? She was the Lady of my Lord Before she was his Brido! * * * : From the Asiatic Journal. VI. of Cutch, they might be requested to announce to him, as the head of the tribe, as well as Go Can woman's heart take pleasure in vernment, the fact of their wives being 'enceinMagnificence like this? tes,' and eventually the result. This scheme Can honours that are coupled with appeared feasible to the ministers; but when it Dishonour, offer bliss ? was proposed to the Jarejah members of the reCan she look round complacently gency, they received it with feelings of complete Upon her gorgeous home, disgust, and almost horror. Two modes further While she receives some noble guest, suggested themselves of carrying the object. Whose wife would scorn to come ? The one, to use direct authority and force; but No! there's a hateful thought that must that would, no doubt, be at variance with the Einbitter all beside! spirit, if not the letter, of the treaty. The other, She was the Lady of my Lord to grant a portion to every Jarejah girl on her Before she was his Bride! marriage. This latter method had been propos ed to the Bombay Government by Col. P.'s preVII. decessor, (Mr. Gardiner) but had been explicitly And is there not a lesson taught negatived, and that negative had been confirmed By one so young and fair? by the Court of Directors. Under these circumMay not some erring beauty pause, stances, the plan was, of course, abandoned. And learn discretion there? “Sir John Malcolm came to Bhúj in March, Though rich, how little happiness 1820. He made a long speech to the assembled Can gold on her bestow! Jarejahs on the enormity of the crime, and told Though nominally high in rank, them, the English nation would force the East. How practically low! India Company to dissolve all connexion with a If now a wife, how proud her lot people who persisted in it! The Jarejahs, of Had she his suit denied, course, individually denied the charge; but they Nor been the Lady of my Lord afterwards inquired from Col. P., how the GoBefore she was his Bride! vernor could talk so to them at a moment when he was courting the friendship of Sinde, in which child-murder is carried to a much greater extent than even in Cutch; for it is a well-known fact, that all the illegitimate offspring born to men of FEMALE INFANTICIDE. any rank in that country, are indiscriminately put to death without reference to sex. SubseThe Calcutta Christian Observer, for November, quent to Sir John's visit, an imposter of the contains a statement of the efforts (hitherto name of Vijjya Bhat went to Bombay, and prebut partially successfull) made by an active sented a petition to Government, setting forth and benevolent public officer, Col. Pottinger, Col. P.'s supineness, and offering, if furnished in the province of Cutch, to put down female with some peons, to do all that was required. infanticide: This petition was referred to the colonel to re• When he first came to Cutch, ten years ago, port on, which he did as it merited; and matters he set out, with all the active zeal of a new lay in abeyance, till the young rao was installed comer, to root out the practice; but he soon dis- in July 1834, when he adopted the most decided covered his mistake. The mehtahs sent at his steps to enforce that article of the treaty which request, by the then regency, were either cajoled provides for the suppression of infanticide. He by false returns, or expelled from towns and took a paper from the whole of his brethren, villages, not only by the classes charged with reiterating that stipulation, and agreeing to abide the crime, but by the other inhabitants, whom the full consequences if they broke it. Col. P. long habit had taught to view the business with officially promised the rao the support of the indifference, if not absolute approbation. Col. British Government in all his measures, and the P. next got the darbár to summon all the Jare- rao and the English resident have been watchjahs to Bhúj, and partly by threats, and partly ing ever since for an occasion to make a signal persuasion, arranged with them to furnish quar- example; but the difficulty of tracing and bring. terly statements of the births, within their re-ling home such an allegation will be understood spective estates. This plan he saw from the from the preceding account; and it would be outset, was defective; but it was the best he ruin to the cause to attempt to do so on uncercould hit upon at the moment. It proved, how-tain grounds, and fail. It now, however, appears ever, an utter failure. Within six months, most that our best, perhaps only, chance of success of the Jarejahs declared their inability to act up rests with the rao, who is most sincere in his to their agreement, even as far as regarded their detestation of the crime, and his wish to stop it. nearest relations. Several farthers, for instance, “ Our correspondent proceeds as follows:assured him, that they dared not establish such “ • The assertion made by Mr. Wilkinson, that a scrutiny regarding their grown-up sons; and infanticide is carried to an extent of which we the few statements that were furnished, he found have hardly yet a complete notion, is, alas! too to have been drawn up by guess-work, from true in India. The Rao of Cutch told the resiwhat may be termed the tittle-tattle of the dent at his court very recently, that he had just village. Čol. P.'s next idea was, that as all the found out, that a tribe of Mussalmáns, called Jarejahs profess to be blood relations of the Rao Summas, who came originally from Sinde, and 2 now inhabit the islands in the Runn, paying an evil practices. By force nothing is gained; the ill-defined obedience to Cutch, put all their disposition to commit the act remaining as daughters to death, merely to save the expense strong as ever—the sense of the injury of apply. and trouble of rearing them! He has taken a ing violence to proud, ignorant barbarians, bond from all the heads of the tribe to abandon boasting of their freedom, will only work a the horrid custom; but, as he justly remarked, rankling feeling of resistance and rebellion. i he has hardly the means of enforcing it. Of the am now, therefore, teaching my wise men how origin of infánticide in Cutch, it is difficult to to write an affecting tale of real life in their own give a satisfactory account. The tradition of language—how to address the heart, and rouse its being a scheme hit on by one of the Jarejahs, the kindly and virtuous sympathies of our nato prevent their daughters, who cannot marry ture in favour of humanity, but still without in their own tribe, from disgracing their families once overstepping the bounds of probability, by prostitution, is generally received. The Ja- and indeed of truth and fact. Their first atrejahs of Cutch have perhaps adoped all the vices, tempts at a “ Tale of the heart" have been sad whilst they have few, or none, of the saving failures. They made even brutes and trees qualities, of the Musalınáns. No people appear to stand aghast at the shedding of the innocent's to have so thorough a contempt for women, and blood.. They thought their own spoken lanyet strange to say, we often see the dowagers guage too common and mean to give expresof households taking the lead in both public and sion to all I wanted—but they are now learning private matters amongst them. Their tenets are, to think better of its powers and capabilities. I however, that women are innately vicious; and hope before long to have a tale of horror in real it must be confessed that they have good cause life, and well known in these parts, so well set to draw this conclusion in Cutch, in which, it is in cunning language, as shall not fail to enlist suspected, there is not one chaste female, from men's strongest sympathies in our favour.'” the rao's wives downwards. We can understand the men amongst the Jarejahs getting reconciled to infanticide, from hearing it spoken of, from their very births, as a necessary and lauda From the Court Magazine. ble proceeding ; but several instances have THE LACE CAP. been told me, where young mothers, just before married from other tribes, and even brought A COMMERCIAL STORY. from distant countries, have strenuously urged the destruction of their own infants, even in op- Under the influence of a religion which was position to the father's disposition to spare them in the first instance promulgated to the poor of This is a state of things for which, we confess, the earth, and is professedly intended to make we cannot offer any explanation, and which but one family of the human race, setting all diswould astonish us in a tigress or a she-wolf? tinctions at defiance, it is astonishing how igno. “ The above is indeed a melancholy detail, and rant the various classes, which poverty and riches cannot fail to sicken the heart of every English- have placed in different circumstances, are of man, much more of every British female. As each other. some little relief to a recital so affecting, we But the most remarkable feature in this state have the pleasure to add, that Mr. Wilkinson is of things is, that those who claim to themselves pursuing with success the most judicious almost the whole of human knowledge, have a measures to secure its extinction in Málwa and smaller glimmering of the condition of the poor, Rájputána. By a letter just received from him, than the poor have of theirs. we learn, that he is trying to ascertain all those The low are not necessarily unimaginative, arguments by which the native mind has re- and they have what may be called a better conciled itself to the murder of female children; glimpse of that which they deem an earthly paraand how those who have not practised it have dise, than the rich of them or of the arts they been led to adopt this more humane course. He profess. Indeed, there is every obvious reason is also enlisting the services of several of the for this. To think of the affluent, although some most humane and influential Rájput chiefs of envy may be excited, is yet like the regalement those parts, to suppress it, and has derived of a fairy tale; but to contemplate want and its much assistance and success from their advice concomitants, is to outrage all the finer feelings and their zeal. They are taking up the subject of the fastidiously delicate. con amore. All the chiefs near Sihor have taken, A friend of ours once sent a needle to a couple or are taking, bonds from their kinsmen, to re- of young ladies, with an account, just then pubfrain from the practice in future. This is highly lished, of the cost of human life in obtaining such gratifying; but, as Mr. W. remarks, *except the articles; since a worker in fine steel requires exmomentary expression of the public approba- traordinary lungs to reach the age of forty, and tion of this humane act, and the force thus given the average of their lives, we believe, does not to the public feeling in favour of humanity, what exceed thirty years. It would, perhaps, serve is gained? Without further efforts, the public no other purpose than to render persons of great mind will remain as uninformed as ever: it has benevolence wretched, if they knew the price in learned no new lesson: we have gained no real health and morals which most of our luxuries, pledge or security against the recurrence of the nay, even necessaries, cost. act. As the human mind gains light and knowl- The ingenious and philosophic among the beedge, however it will of itself throw off such nevolent, look forward to the removal of many |