This is the paperback version of a prize-winning book which first appeared in 2013. It is a meticulously researched and well written work on a grisly subject. Despite the stereotype of Irish sexual continence it is clear that the moral landscape in post-Famine Ireland was altogether more complex than historians have traditionally taken for granted. Whether this indicates a greater tolerance for pre- and extra-marital sex, as Farrell suggests, must be open to question. The question of what to do with the children who resulted from such dalliances is the subject of this fascinating study. Between 1850 and 1900 there were 4,645 known cases of infanticide, attempted infant murders or birth concealment in Ireland. In all twenty-nine women were sentenced to death for infanticide although no death sentences were actually carried out. In 1866 the attorney-general for Ireland agreed with one judge that if there was a range of penalties other than capital punishment there would be more convictions for infanticide. Indeed in general the courts tended to be lenient in their treatment of women, and occasionally men, in such circumstances. This sometimes gave rise to criticism of judges and juries, but child murder was not, in contrast to agrarian crime and political offences, seen as a threat to the peace and stability of Irish society, and this enabled the courts to deal with women compassionately. Of course an irony here is that it was an all-male legal profession which, together with juries of empaneled men, which created a climate sympathetic to mothers driven to kill or conceal their unwanted children. By the early 1880 there were calls for women to be admitted to juries in such cases. The Irish Times editorialised on the matter in September 1880 and wondered if mixed juries in which women would be adjudicating on members of the same sex might better serve the cause of justice. The tendency to be lenient with child murderers was also reflected in press coverage of trials for infanticide, provided that the women appeared as remorseful and weak. By 1886 Lord Aberdeen, the Lord Lieutenant, ordered all women released from prison who had served between five and seven years for such crimes and this set a precedent for subsequent sentences. In numerous cases infant murder and birth concealment came to light because neighbours reported their suspicions to the police. Farrell rightly concludes that post-Famine Ireland was a society under constant surveillance. Infanticide was not only an Irish problem and interesting comparisons are made between Ireland and circumstances elsewhere. The sense of panic in England during the 1860s à propos of infanticide was gleefully reported in the Irish press which in general wanted to demonstrate, contrary to the facts, that somehow Ireland was more virtuous than its near neighbour in this respect. Surprisingly, perhaps, the clergy did not often play a visible role in detecting infanticide, although they were aware of local gossip and were often to the fore in signing petitions and advocating mercy for women condemned to prison. Farrell's work is not without its blemishes. She thinks that there were women clergy in Ireland in the period under discussion and that women generally acted as reporters for newspapers (we have evidence for only two). There are figures missing from illustration 6.2 (p. 227) which make the table unintelligible, and Farrell invents a new country, ‘the United States of Columba’ (p. 251). Although anxious to stress that women were rational actors and not naive and helpless victims when they committed infanticide she oddly concludes that such women were not feminists ‘ahead of their time’ (p. 253), as if murdering one's children could be evidence of women's progress in society. These points do not, however, detract from the overall favourable impression given by this excellent work.