to the lost degraded females of the vast Indian peninsula, now become subjects of the British empire; and on applying to the benevolent and active Mr Millar, the assistant secretary to the British and Foreign School Society, for further particulars, he has favoured me with a very interesting printed address to the ladies of Great Britain, which I will inclose for insertion in your Magazine. May I further trespass upon your time by the following reflections, which, among many others, naturally arise out of the subject?

Numerous and inexpressibly important as are the blessings conferred on the whole human race, by the diffusion of the everlasting Gospel, surely our sex, in particular, have especial cause to be for ever thankful for its gracious promulgation, and should labour incessantly in our narrow sphere to aid its triumphs; and this we may do most effectually by demonstrating its efficacy in the whole of our temper and conduct. To what are we indebted for the comparatively elevated rank which we of this day hold in the intellectual and moral world, but to the preaching and holy example of its transcendently great, and divinely

commissioned Author? Let us compare our present situation in any of the countries where Christianity is professed, even in its most debased and corrupted state, with that of the worshippers of Brahma, or even with the wretchedly enslaved inhabitants of the Turkish Harem, and can we be too thankful for our emancipation ? Who was it but the illustrious Messenger of the new covenant, who, when unfolding its blessings in the wilds of Judea, permitted many pious females to be ranked among his followers? and who eventually rewarded their faithful attendance during his dying agonies, by appearing first to them after his triumphant resurrection from the grave? Do British females ardently wish to shew their gratitude? Happily their exalted Master wants not their feeble aid; but they are now privileged by having an opportunity of manifesting their attachment to his cause, by ministering in his name the "

cup of cold water," which he has declared he would accept, to their suffering sisters in British India.

The ladies of Edinburgh, it is hoped, many of whom are not less distin

guished for their talents than their virtues, will generously come forward in this labour of love, and will pardon the unwarranted presumption of this address, from one, whose very advanced age is her only claim to their attention, and whose daily increasing infirmities bear unequivocal testimony that her little day of desired usefulness is fast drawing to its close. CATHARINE CAPPE

York, October 21, 1820.

Note.-An Address to the Ladies of Great Britain, on the present State of Female Society in British India.

It is a most painful fact, that there are in Hindoostan thirty millions of females committed to the care of Great Britain, who are totally destitute of education, and to whom every vestige of mental cultivation has been denied.

The writings which have hitherto formed the basis of legislation in that country have prohibited to them the knowledge of the Vedu, and doomed them to a state of mental subjection. The calamity the most dreaded there, widowhood, is, by the jea lousy of the other sex, suspended as a judgment of Providence over the female who shall dare to acquire a knowledge of the alphabet. Manoo, one of the Hindoo legislators, says, (see Sir W. Jones's Translation,)

"Women have no business with the Vedu, thus is the law fully settled; having therefore no knowledge of expiating texts, sinful women (meaning all women) must be as foul as falsehood itself; and this is a fixed rule."-Here the legislator first binds the sex fast in the chains of ignorance, and then reproaches and punishes them for the result of his own law.

The dreadful consequences of such laws and such a state of feeling towards the sex are most strikingly exhibited in the present state of female society in India. Here is lions of females, in which a single school a whole empire, comprising so many milfor girls has not existed for thousands of years; the females have never seen a book, except in the hands of men, and have no knowledge of any one of the mental employments of females in a civilized country. Their fingers have never touched a needle, a pair of scissors, a book, or a pen, and they are entirely excluded from all intellectual intercourse with the other sex. "A woman is not allowed by law to go out of the house without the consent of her husband; to talk with a stranger, nor to

laugh without a veil on her face, nor to stand at the door, nor look out at the window." (See Ward on the Hindoos, Vol. I. p. 312.) What can be expected, but that, in such a state of ignorance, the female character will be awfully debased? Hence

Jannes. This is all very good and edifying to be sure, but have you no poetry to-day?

among the Rajpoot mothers the murder of female infants is universally practised. Mothers among other casts, in fulfilment of a vow to obtain offspring, are seen sacrificing their first child in the Brūm hū pootrü and other sacred rivers. Many females drown themselves. Capt. -saw one morning, while sitting at his own window at Allahabad, sixteen females, under the influence of superstition, drown themselves at the junction of the Jumna and the Ganges. And there are now in London copies of official documents, which prove that, in the year 1817, under the Presidency of Bengal, not less than 705 females, British subjects, voluntarily immolated themselves, by being burnt or buried alive with the dead bodies of their husbands. No parallel case of such direful effects of ignorance appears to exist in human history. Never in the most savage state have fires like these been kindled, or similar graves been dug. Never were such appalling consequences of ignorance exhibited to the civilized world.

In these circumstances, to whom shall the appeal be made? Is it not manifest, that the ladies in Britain are the natural guardians of these unhappy widows and orphans in British India? Is it possible, that our fair countrywomen, ladies of rank, of influence, of the most refined sensibility, the patrons of every charity, of all that is distinguished and benevolent in our country, can, after knowing the facts contained in this circular, continue unmoved by the cries issuing from these fires, and from the thousands of orphans which surround them, witnessing the progress of these flames which are devouring the living mother, and consuming her frame to ashes? This appeal cannot be made in vain; such a tale of woe was never before addressed to the hearts of British mothers. Let every lady of rank and influence in the United Empire do her duty, and these fires cannot burn another twenty years.

Next to the wise and gradual interposition and influence of a benevolent government, female education forms the most probable and effectual means of putting an end to this deplorable state of female society; and could funds be raised by a dis. tinguished association of ladies in London, with auxiliaries in the country, for this express object, schools taught by native fcmales might be immediately established. There is a class of females in India, the daughters of our countrymen, who are acquainted with the native languages, and from whom a wise selection might be made, who, after receiving proper instruction, might, as local mistresses, become the greatest possible blessings to India.

Ed. Yes, here are two or three pieces for you, all we can afford at

The state of Indian manners forbids females to be placed under the tuition of men. It may be difficult to overcome prejudices among the natives against female education, but they will gradually subside, and we shall soon witness the triumph of these humane exertions in the delightful appearance of a state of society in India, rewarding the benevolent exertions of the British ladies.

It further appears, by a recent communication from Bengal, that the Calcutta School Society is at this time extending its views and operations to the education of female children in Calcutta, to which their attention has been directed by the sentiments of some of the principal natives, one of whom has even undertaken to publish an extract from authentic Hindoo writings, in furtherance of this object. It is therefore proposed that a subscription be raised for the express purpose of promoting the education of female natives of British India, by sending out a well-qualified mistress, to be at the disposal and under the direction of the Calcutta School Society. The fund so contributed will be received by the Committee of the British and Foreign School Society, and applied as before mentioned in connection with the Calcutta School Society. This society was established in 1818, under the direction of the Hon. Sir Anthony Buller, John Herbert Harington, Esq. late senior judge of the Native Court, and various other respectable persons, with a number of natives of India who are Hindoos, and who have an equal influence in the Committee.

It is computed that about L. 400 will be required for the outfit passage and support of a proper person to superintend a school for training native teachers. The object is earnestly recommended by the Ladies' Committee of the British aud Foreign School Society, and the following ladies will thankfully receive subscriptions : Lady Johnston, 19, Cumberland Place ;Lady Bell, Dean Street, Soho ;-Mrs H. Gurney, 24, Gloucester Place, Portman Square;-Miss Bradshaw, Stoke Newington;-Miss Hanburgh, Plough Court ;Mrs Hagen, Peckham;-Miss Jane Harris, Walworth ;-Miss Shewell, Stockwell;

Mrs Millar, 45, Museum Street;— Miss Phené, Watling Street.

*It appears from the reports of the London Missionary Society, that exertions have been made with some success in some parts of India, particularly the native schools for females of Tamul and Travancore, of which more minute accounts may soon be expected.

may we

present. First, here is a fine wild sketch called "The Storm-beat Maid," an early production of a lady of great genius, whose name "well guess, but dare not tell." Then follows our excellent and amiable friend Pringle's Farewell to his Native Country. You know he went to the Cape with several of his brothers, their wives and families, and his old father at their head-quite in the style of the transit of Jacob and his sons into Egypt.-Jambres shall read the one, and Jannes the other.

THE STORM-BEAT MAID.

ALL shrouded in the winter snow,
The maiden held her way:

Nor chilly winds that roughly blow,
Nor dark night, could her stay.

O'er hill and dale, through bush and briar,
She on her journey kept;

Save often when she 'gan to tire,
She stopt a while and wept.

Wild creatures left their caverns drear,
To raise their nightly yells;
But little doth the bosom fear,
Where inward trouble dwells.

No watch light from the distant spire,
To cheer the gloom so deep,
Nor twinkling star, nor cottage fire,
Did through the darkness peep.

Yet heedless still she held her way,
Nor feared she crag nor dell;
Like ghost that thro' the gloom to stray,
Wakes with the midnight bell.

Now night thro' her dark watches ran,
Which lock the peaceful mind;
And through the neighb'ring hamlets 'gan
To wake the yawning hind.

Nor bark of dog, nor village clock,
That spoke the morning near;
Nor grey light trembling on the rock,
Her nighted mind could cheer.

The whirling flail, and clacking mill,
Wake with the early day;
And careless children loud and shrill,
With new made snow-balls play.

And as she passed each cottage door,
They did their gambols cease;
And old men shook their locks so hoar,
And wished her spirit peace.

For sometimes slow, and sometimes fast,
She held her wavering pace;
Like early Spring's inconstant blast,
That ruffles evening's face.

At length with weary feet she came,
Where in a sheltering wood,

Whose master bore no humble name,
A stately castle stood.

The open gate, and smoking fires,
Which cloud the air so thin,
And shrill bell tinkling from the spires,
Bespoke a feast within.
With busy look, and hasty tread,
The servants cross the hall,
And many a page in buskins red
Await the master's call.
Fair streaming bows of bridal white
On every shoulder play'd;
And clean in lily kerchief dight
Tripp'd every household maid.
She asked for neither lord nor dame,
Nor who the mansion owned,
But straight into the hall she came,
And sat her on the ground.

The busy crew all crowded nigh,
And round the stranger stared;

But still she roll'd her wandering eye,

Nor for their questions cared.

"What dost thou want, thou storm-beat maid,

That thou these portals passed?
Ill suiteth here thy look dismay'd,
Thou art no bidden guest."

"O chide not!" said a gentle page,
And wiped his tear-wet cheek:
"Who would not shun the winter's rage?
The wind is cold and bleak.

"Her robe is stiff with drizly snow,
And rent her mantle grey,

None ever bade the wretched go,
Upon his wedding-day."

Then to his lord he hied him straight,
Where round on silken seat,

Sat many a courteous dame and knight,
And made obeisance meet.

"There is a stranger in your hall,
Who wears no common mien,
Hard were the heart, as flinty wall,
That would not let her in.
"A fairer dame in hall or bower
Mine eyes did ne'er behold,
Tho' sheltered in no father's tower,
And turned out to the cold.

"Her face is like an early morn,
Dimmed with the nightly dew;
Her skin is like the sheeted thorn,
Her eyes a watery blue.

"And tall, and slender, is her form,
Like willow o'er the brook;
But on her brow there broods a storm,
And restless is her look.

"And well her troubled motions show
The tempest in her mind:

Like the unsheltered sapling bough,
Vexed with the wintry wind.

"Her head droops on her ungirt breast, And scattered is her hair;

Yet lady braced in courtly vest,

Was never half so fair."

Reverse, and cold, the turning blood,
The bridegroom's cheek forsook ;
He shook and staggered as he stood,
And faltered as he spoke.

"So soft and fair, I know a maid,
There is but only she;

A wretched man her love betray'd,
And wretched let him be."

Deep frowning turned the bride's dark eye,
For bridal morn unmeet;
With trembling steps her lord did hie,
The stranger fair to greet.

Tho' loose in scattered weeds arrayed,
And ruffled with the storm,
Like lambkin from its fellow strayed,
He knew her graceful form.

But when he spied that sunken eye,
And features sharp and wan;
He heaved a deep and heavy sigh,
And down the big tears ran.

"Why droops thy head, thou lovely maid, Upon thy hand of snow?

Is it because thy love betrayed,
That thou art laid so low ?"

Quick from her eye the keen glance came,
Who questioned her to see;

And oft she muttered o'er his name,
And wist not it was he.

Full hard against his writhing brows,
His clenched hand he pressed;
Full high his lab'ring bosom rose,
And rent its silken vest.

"O cursed be the golden price,
That did my baseness prove;
And cursed be my friend's advice
That wil'd me from my love.

"And cursed be the woman's art,
That lured me to her snare;
And cursed be the faithless heart,
That left thee to despair.

"Yet now I'll hold thee to my side,
Tho' worthless I have been,

Nor friends, nor wealth, nor dizened bride, Shall ever stand between.

"When thou art weary and depressed,
I'll lull thee to thy sleep;

And when dark fancies vex thy breast,
I'll sit by thee and weep.

“I'll tend thee like a restless child,
Where'er thy rovings be;

Nor gesture keen, nor eye-ball wild,
Shall turn my love from thee.

"Night shall not hang cold o'er thy head, And I securely lie;

Nor drizly clouds upon thee shed,
And I in covert dry.

"I'll share the cold blast on the heath,
I'll share thy wants and pain;
Nor friend, nor foe, nor life, nor death,
Shall ever make us twain."

stream,

The cooing stock-dove pour'd his evening song,

And bleating lambs, from distant mountains, lent

Their vocal offering to the passing breeze.

Fair was the scene, when fill'd with thankful praise,

We trod the path that skirts the churchyard green,

There delving deep, a grey hair'd sexton plied

His busy task. Skulls strewn 'mong ghastly heaps

Of mouldering bones garnish'd the dark grave's side,

While near it stood, with meditative eye, A Highland boy, in plaided garments clad. His cheek was flush'd with health, and clust❜ring fell

The flaxen hair that curl'd around his brow.

He wondering gazed at this grim wreck of things

That once were human; and methought his eye

Glisten'd with grief, to think that one he loved,

His aged grandsire, tenant of this grave, Must soon be like the fragments scatter'd

round.

hang upon it, which seems unfathomable. The lover cannot be Petrarch -he appears of a more Platonic cast still-besides the verses bear internal evidence of having been written since the Gierusalemme of Tasso. I shall read them to you, before Jannes gives us "Pringle's Farewell."

SONNET FROM THE ITALIAN.

“Vergine bella, la cui beltade, la terra," &c.

MAIDEN more beauteous to my Fancy's

eye

Than aught beheld on Earth, or dreamt of Heaven,

Have I offended, not to be forgiven? And canst thou think this bosom heaves no sigh?

Years roll along-and yet beneath the sky Breathes not a wretch with heart more torn and riven;

Or if black thoughts, by loftier aims are driven

Off for a time--alas! they do not fly! Yet deem not my offence was from the heart;

Deem me as "one perplex'd in the extreme,"

Who might not love, all-lovely as thou art! What matchless power were thine in holier

theme,

Wouldst thou to glory speed thy Christian

knight,

Not lure him (an Armida!) from the fight!

Jannes. What a poor hypocritical rascal this must have been!-I sincerely hope he has been dead and buried for centuries, and that there is no fellow of the same kidney now alive. He wishes, you see, to keep up a sickly sentimental flirtation, without any more serious views, with some kindhearted girl, whose only weakness seems to have been, throwing away a thought on such a fantastic puppy. Although he talks in rather a loftier tone, I think he must have been a cold-blooded monster, like your favourite Swift, who did not hesitate to sacrifice two uncommonly amiable women to his weak and capricious vanity-the high-minded and generous Stella, and the passionate and fascinating Vanessa! What do you say to that, Mr Editor?

Ed. Why, there is much to be said upon both sides. We confess a great penchant for Swift, and- -[Enter a servant with a letter.-A letter with the Lanark post-mark upon it! We have correspondence with votaries of the muses of all conditions, and from

every nook in the kingdom. Perhaps this may be a tuneful cobler, or apothecary, or-but we shall read it.

MR EDITOR,

I AM a writer's clerk! [So, so!] Nay, more, I am a writer's clerk in a country town. [Better still.] This confession, I fear much, will have the effect of making many of your fashionable readers stop short at the very first sentence of my communication, and, like the lovers in Dante, " read no more. But then, Sir, I am a poet, at least so all my friends here tell me, and I believe them; [poor lad! and, moreover, have little doubt that I shall be able, with your leave, to bring over the judicious part of your readers to the same opinion. My only fear is, that, in the plenitude of your benevolence, you may be indisposed to give me any encourage ment in my ardent pursuit of literary fame, under the erroneous impression that I am one of those weakling youngsters, who, conceiving themselves to have abilities and attainments of no ordinary kind, look down with contempt on the trammels of a profes sion, and break their parents' hearts, and ruin their own prospects, by spending their time in inditing sickly ballads and sentimental sonnets, to the total neglect of their proper avocations. But I can assure you, Sir, I am quite a different sort of personage from these unfortunate youths. I may say, without vanity, that I am now, and have been ever since I entered on my apprenticeship, most attentive to business, and have all along given the greatest satisfaction to my employers. Well, well! It is only during my few leisure hours, and particularly on the Saturday afternoons, that I have been in the habit of devoting myself to the worship of the Muses, [We hope his worship on the Sundays is not to the same Deities,] and to the indulgence of those sacred emotions which were first kindled in my early youth, amid the lovely scenes of this delightful country. Of late years I have had more opportunities than formerly of making myself in some measure acquainted with the li terature of the times in which I live, by means of the periodical works which are at present so much in vogue, and, above all, by the constant perusal of your invaluable Magazine.