We forbear to describe the meeting between the Colonel and his son--the
pretty boy from whom he had parted more than seven years before with such
pangs of heart; and of whom he had thought ever since with such a
constant longing affection. Half an hour after the father left the boy,
and in his grief and loneliness was rowing back to shore, Clive was at
play with a dozen of other children on the sunny deck of the ship. When
two bells rang for their dinner, they were all hurrying to the cuddy
table, and busy over their meal. What a sad repast their parents had that
day! How their hearts followed the careless young ones home across the
great ocean! Mothers' prayers go with them. Strong men, alone on their
knees, with streaming eyes and broken accents, implore Heaven for those
little ones, who were prattling at their sides but a few hours since.
Long after they are gone, careless and happy, recollections of the sweet
past rise up and smite those who remain: the flowers they had planted in
their little gardens, the toys they played with, the little vacant cribs
they slept in as fathers' eyes looked blessings down on them. Most of us
who have passed a couple of score of years in the world, have had such
sights as these to move us. And those who have will think none the worse
of my worthy Colonel for his tender and faithful heart.

With that fidelity which was an instinct of his nature, this brave man
thought ever of his absent child, and longed after him. He never forsook
the native servants and nurses who had had charge of the child, but
endowed them with money sufficient (and indeed little was wanted by
people of that frugal race) to make all their future lives comfortable.
No friends went to Europe, nor ship departed, but Newcome sent presents
and remembrances to the boy, and costly tokens of his love and thanks to
all who were kind to his son. What a strange pathos seems to me to
accompany all our Indian story! Besides that official history which fills
Gazettes, and embroiders banners with names of victory; which gives