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the bay, Mr. Burnett proposed as a plan, for a wager, he being a remarkable good swimmer, to leap off the gunnel of the ship, and dive all the way quite 'under water, from the ship to the boats at that distance, and so rise upon them to startle the people on watch in them. A wager being laid, he undressed, jumped off, and dived entirely out of sight. Every body crowded forward, keeping their eyes at the distance where he was expected to come up, but he never rising to their expectation, and the time running past their hopes of ever seeing him more, it was concluded he was drowned ; and every body was in the greatest pain and concern ; especially those who by laying the wager, thought themselves in some measure accessary to his death. But he by skilful diving, having turned the other way behind the ship, and being also very active, got up by the quarter ladder in at the cabin window, whilst every body was busy and in confusion at the forward part of the ship; then concealing himself the remaining part of the day in a closet in the státe room, wrapped himself up in a linen night gown of Mr. Walker's. Evening coming on, the whole ship's company being very melancholy at the accident, Mr. Walker returned with a friend or two to his cabin, when, in their conversation, they often lamented the sad accident and loss of their friend and dear companion, speaking of every merit he had when living. The supposed dead man remained still quiet, aud heard many good things said to his memory. As soon as it was night, Mr. Walker's company left him, and he being low in spirits, went to bed, where lying still pensive on the late loss of his companion and friend, and the moon shining direct through the windows, he perceived the folding doors of the closet to open, and looking stedfast towards them, saw something that could not fail startling him, as he imagined it a representation of a human figure ; but, recalling his better senses, he was fond to persuade himself it was only the workings of his disturbed fancy, and turned away his eyes. However, he soon returned again in search of the object, and seeing it now plainly advance upon him, in a slow and constant step, he recognised the image of his departed friend. He has not been ashamed to own he felt terrors which shook him to the inmost soul. The Mate, who lay in a steerage at the back of the cabin, divided only by a bulk-head, was not yet a-bed ; and hearing Mr. Walker challenge him with a loud and alarmed voice, “ what are you," ran to him with a candle, and meeting Mr. Burnett in the linen gown, down he dropped, without so much as an ejaculation. Mr. Burnett, now beginning himself to be afraid, runs for a bottle of smelling spirits he knew lay in the window, and applied them to the nose and temples of the swooning mate. Mr. Walker seeing the ghost so very alert and good-natured, began to recover from bis own apprehension, when Mr. Burnett cried out to him, “Sir, I must ask pardon; I fear I have carried the jest to far; I swam round, and came in at the cabin window; I meant, Sir, to prove to you the natural awe the bravest must be under at such appearances, and have, I hope, convinced you of it."—“Sir," says Mr. Walker, (glad of being relieved from a terrible dream, and belief of his friend's death), “ You have given me a living instance, there needs no better proof; but pray take care you don't bring death among us in earnest." He then lent his aid in the recovery of the poor mate, who, as he recovered his senses, still relapsed at the sight of Mr. Burnett ; so that Mr. Walker was obliged to make him entirely disappear, and call others to his assistance, which took up some considerable time in doing, every body, as Mr Burnett advanced to them, being more or less surprised ; but they were called to by him, and told the manner of the cheat, and where by degrees convinced of his reality; though every one was thoroughly satisfied of his death. Being persuaded that this story carries a lesson in it which speaks for itself, I shall conclude it by mentioning this circumstance, that the poor mate never recovered the use of his senses from that hour. Nature had received too great a shock, by, which reason was flung from her seat, and could never regain it afterwards ; a constant stupidity hung around him, and he could never be brought to look direct at Mr. Burnett afterwards, though he was as brave a man as ever went, in all his senses, to face death hy day-light.
PASTORAL LIFE, AND INFIDELITY OF SHEPHERDS.
The imagination cannot easily conceive an unfaithful shepherd. The very name of shepherd recalls, at once, the Thirsises, so celebrated in our pastorals, who have no other employment than Fontain's, who did nothing; whose life was spent in sighing, and singing the beauties of Lisetta, and whose whole ambition was to touch her heart. Love, which wholly engages them, leaves no place in their hearts for any other passion : all their treasures are the favours of their mistress; all their happiness consists in a favourable glance from her beautiful eyes. This love, says an elegant author, is simple, because those who feel it, entirely yield to a country life, and the delightful idleness which fills up every hour, without any dangerous refinement, Their love is more pointed, because they are occupied with no other passion ; it is more discreet, because they are unacquainted with vanity; more faithful, because, with an imagination and vivacity seldom exercised, they have less inquietude, less disgust, and less caprice. Their love, in a word, is freed from every thing foreign to it, or of the bad tendency which human fancy has frequently mixed with it. All the time that sleep leaves at their disposal, they employ in seeking means to please the shepherdess who has conquered their heart; she is the only subject of all their thoughts; they are anxious only in contriving little tricks to surprise her into a confession of the love which their earnest and respectful attentions have inspirer! *Modesty seems to promise a friendship even more tender than love, a word that they long to hear from the mouth of that beauty, to whom they pay the most pure and disinterested adoration. They pass their days, impatiently expecting the moment, when their dear shepherdess will give them hopes of a short conversation, about the close of the following day. In his impatience to arrive at the happy moment, Thyrsis, who has gained the promise by such urgent requests, quits his bed before the break of day, complains that the sun is too slow in dispelling the darkness, when the day is to end so happily. The sun at last appears ; the shepherd measures, with his eyes, the distance he must run, before the moment arrives that his Daphne has promised to see him and to hear him.
Such occupations leave no place for the tumultuous passions, which tyrannize over the inhabitants of cities : pleasure, tranquil pleasure, is the object of their wishes.
The pastoral life, such as our poets have described ; the life of shepherds who know no other occupation, no other passion, than those we have been speaking of, must certainly seem uniform, dismal, and tiresome, to those who from their birth have heard only of the schemes of fortune, who are accustomed to taste no other pleasures but those which they fancy are found in numerous and noisy assemblies, where no one comes, but to participate, with the rest, the listlessness which accompanies every pleasure that nature has neither inspired nor prepared. But let those who frequent them, only lift the veil spread over the minds by habit, prejudice, and example, they will find that the artificial taste to which they have yielded themselves, will never procure that happiness constantly offered by nature. And how often have those most engaged in the tumult of the world, and agitated by their possessions, perceived that they never found in either that calm delight in which true pleasure consists ? Chained, hy 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 bis 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 bis 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 ma 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 hinì, 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 counienance 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 thc 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 weak
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. Let 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