Chained, by custom, to those engagements which they despise, and dreading the imputation of singularity, they dare not break the fetters of which they feel all the weight; and, when they have time to reflect, they complain that they are forced to support them.

If, in a moment of leisure, in that moment when the natural feelings are heard, you speak to them of a pastoral, of a country life, they perceive all its charms, and feel that remorse, which makes them reproach themselves for the weakness that still confines them to the tumultuous life, whose deceitful appearance they have experienced.

But when men are collected in cities, they are employed in what seems more interesting and important. Then the inhabitants of the country are slaves of the citizens; and pastoral occupations, filled by the most unhappy among men, present nothing agreeable. At this time they are discharged by restless mercenaries, whose stipend scarcely furnishes them with subsistence; constantly exposed to the inclemency of the air, if they are sensible of their misery, and anxious for relief from it, every measure seems justifiable. Incapble of reflecting, deprived of instruction, feeling no impulse from honour, banished almost from society, they can scarcely distinguish between vice and virtue. Such is their present state, and the idea of an unfaithful shepherd will not appear to us so disgusting, as to those who have only been conversant with the heroes of pastorals, the inhabitants of an imaginary golden age. The scene of our story, a true one, is in Switzerland; but we must, for a moment, forget the romantic, the visionary descriptions of Rosseau. The heroine deserves all our praises; but the hero, the villain, is an Englishman. It is a just and sensible remark of a modern author, that the English excel in every thing, even in villiany, from the same liberal, independent spirit, which, with superior regulation, and better direction, has made them patriots, legislators, and philosophers.

An English shepherd, called Delaware, led a flock, in one of the cantons, with the most advantageous character. Every one praised his care and attention, the elegance and propriety of his behaviour. His flocks were better fed than those of his neighbours, and more successfully preserved from disease. His dress was put on with more exactness, and his pipe was taught a more melodious strain. The young girls of the village disputed with each other for the prize of his heart; but they knew not that one only was to deplore his infidelity. Delaware felt all his consequence, and not knowing how to chuse, fixed on her whose beauty had most firmly engaged his passions. He found her but too easy to listen, and believe the oaths of a shepherd: for she thought that they would not deceive she gloried in her conquest,

she triumphed in a victory which her companions had in vain disputed with her. Alas! her victory was her greatest misfortune! she soon perceived that even shepherds would deceive!

The neighbouring rock had often heard his perfidious vows : from the brink of the precipice he would urge the violence of his passion, and that his love would make life odious if she did not listen to him; that, from the precipice, his love and his life should together be finished. Again: by the dimpled brook, which washes the verdant bauks of the adjacent meadows, he has been heard to request her favourable acceptance of his suit to vow that the stream should roll again to its source, or mount the craggy precipice, ere he would forget his love, ere he would cease to observe his oaths. The credulous maid was at last forced to conclude the romance too soon. She had granted favours which he should have been compelled to have waited for, till a lawful union should have secured the fidelity of her lover. Not able to obtain by her tears, what the shepherd should have eagerly granted to her love, she was obliged, in the month of August, 1785, to cite the perfidious Delaware before the judge, who takes cognizance of the infraction of the promises of marriage. The judge ordered the two lovers to appear before him, the 17th of August, 1785. At the appointed hour, which was that of the public audience, the young girl appeared. Her tears had sullied her beauty; but her bright eyes, though somewhat dimmed by an incessant weeping, assumed a spirit from the innate dignity of her soul, and her whole countenance seemed animated by a great design, by a resolution in which her fortitude had gained a difficult victory over her affections. It was a delightful sight. I stood near her with veneration. I could have clasped her to my bosom, and have dried her tears by soothing sympathy, by ardent love. Ye powers! with what transport did I look at the wreck of my chaise, which fixed me for that day to the spot? In that moment I looked at the broken wheel as the step by which I was to rise to the most supreme felicity. But I shall anticipate my story. She addressed the judge with great firmness.

My lord, said she, I loved the ingrate whom I have summoned before you; and my love must have been very violent to make me forget what I owed to religion and to modesty. But could I have thought that perfidy had chosen the bosom of a shepherd for his asylum? I had been so often told that shepherds were faithful, that I believed it. This was the cause of my weakness. I do not desire that the wretch whom I loved should become my husband. I should blush to give him my hand; but it is just that he should maintain my child and his own. him be brought here, my lord, and answer, in my presence, my accusation. If he dares to alledge that I have imposed on you, I

Let

will produce my wituesses, &c. who will reveal his odious character. Let him advance and speak.”

The judge ordered Delaware to answer; but the discourse of his mistress had made so great an impression upon him, that he tremblingly owned he had deceived her. On this confession the judge ordered him to marry this damsel within a month, or, at that time, to deliver himself up to confinement, till he had paid the damages which should be levied on him.

After the trial, I went to the lovely maid, who persisted in her first determination. In this decision I encouraged her, and established her resolution. At last I hinted that, in her canton, she could be no longer respected. I told her I was a citizen of the world, and would protect her in any cottage where she would lay her head-I thought her still virtuous, and would respect her as one who had been deceived, but was not guilty. She looked at me with the stern penetrating eye of virtue, "In one character only, said she, can I accompany you, and that delicacy forbids me to assume, could you so far forget it as to offer. Leave me; added she, modesty once lost, cannot be restored. I cannot regain my character, but I can die." I can tell you no more; but must add that she is not dead, and that I am happy. Many probably fall like my shepherdess, without losing that innate modest decorum, which not only characterize, but may be said to constitute virtue. Its representative is often very different; but to analyze our enjoyments is sometimes to destroy them.

Wanted immediately, several hundred men to superintend the -education of four children, who will be treated as one of the family.

Yesterday morning two parcels were taken-in custody, charged with stealing a great coat at Swineshead Statue.

The neighbourhood and inhabitants of Grantham were, the

other day, thrown into great confusion, in consequence of the glass gunpowder being prepared only by T. Wilkins.

Last week John Jones was indicted for stealing-Lord Wellington, and several other Lords and gentlemen.

On Friday last W. Winn, Esq. was attacked by two-panes of glass.

Yesterday a new work was published by—a royal Bengal tyger. A glutton, for a trifling wager, eat up-two old houses, which were just going to be pulled down.

Last night a furious beast tossed-St. Paul's, and a great many

other churches.

Last Thursday the Honourable Mr. L. received, at the hymeneal altar, the hand of the beautiful and accomplished Miss D. -To the last moment he appeared perfectly resigned to his fate.

A very numerous and respectable meeting was held at the London Tavern, for the purpose of-forging a five-pound Bank of England note.

Richard Holby was executed yesterday, pursuant to his sentence, for having stolen-the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral.

Bow-street.-A man was brought to this office, charged with having picked a gentleman's pocket of a fine chesnut horse, thorough bred, sixteen hands high. There were the strongest proofs of his guilt.

The following is said to be an infallible cure for the toothache, viz.—the eighth edition, complete, of the works of Shakespear, in octavo, neatly bound in calf, with guilt edges.

Wanted, a young man, who will, if his master wishes-cut his throat.

Last week a violent thunder-storm-was sentenced to be transported for life.

Yesterday an amazing shoal of herrings, in number exceeding ten thousand, were seen-walking arm-in-arm in Hyde-park.

Subcriptions are most earnestly requested for a poor woman, who had the misfortune to fall down and break her leg, as she was stepping over-that noble piece of architecture, Wesminster Abbey.

It is strongly rumoured that Bonaparte means to invade England with—a large coal-barge, quite new.

The dome of St. Paul's Cathedral, we are extremely sorry to hear was drowned last week, whilst bathing in the Serpentine in Hyde Park.

A very long debate lately took place at the Society of Arts and Sciences, on the propriety of petitioning for-a new moon.

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The monument was, a few days since,-delivered of three fine boys, who with the mother, we are happy to say, are doing as well as can be expected.

A fine horse, the property of a noblemen going abroad, will

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some time in the month of October,-stand in the pillory for defrauding his creditors.

It has been some time in contemplation to remove Fleet-market—to the Pavilion at Brighton, for the benefit of the air.

THE ALMANACK OF LIFE.

(By Mrs. Trist.)

The progressive stages of man's existence bear a striking analogy to the vicissitudes of the seasons, comprising in each month a period of seven years, which calculation suppositiously extends the duration of life to the advanced age of eighty-four; beyond which all must be considered a dreary blank, neither desirable to ourselves, nor profitable to others.

JANUARY-THE STATE OF INFANCY.

This month, which commences our winter, may be justly compared to the infant state of man, whose faculties are yet in embryo. The sunshine of joy irradiates but transiently; it illumes his early days with gleams of pleasure unsubstantial and evanescent. A tedious night of helplessness and ignorance effaces the impressions made during the day. Artificial warmth, invigorating nourishment, and refreshing sleep, are all that nature requires for support and solace.

FEBRUARY-OR FROM 7 TO 14.

The bud of intellect now begins to expand, and requires the genial rays of instruction; as in the vegetable world, the all