t I. REMARKS on the State of the AIR, VEGETATION, &'c. August 1796. COM OMMON heath begins to flower.-8. Wheat harvest commences. 9. Early peach begins to ripen.-22. Mulberry begins to ripen. Little rain has fallen this month, and that within the fix days at the beginning and end but though the remainder was entirely free from rain, with winds principally from the north and eaft, and feldom cloudy; yet fuch haziness prevailed in the atmosphere, as rendered its moisture rather fuperior to that of laft month, in which there fell nearly four times the quantity of rain: the 20th day is remarkable for having ali the degrees of moiiture, belonging the month; 61 the greatest degree, 35 the leaft, and 48 the mean. The heat of both months has been fimilar; the prefent not exceeding the last two degrees, either on any one day or on the medium of all: the hottest day was the 22d, the thermometer 77,5 at half past two. The weather, on the whole, has proved very favorable for the corn harveft, but it has greatly injured the foliage of moft trees, and caufed much fruit to drop before arrived at maturity. A Rain 58 hundredths of an inch. OBSERVATIONS on the DISEASES in August 1796. CUTE rheumatism was rather frequent, attacking for the most part the young and plethoric; but it foon yielded to copious bleedings and evacuations from the bowels. Gout proved fevere and of long duration in conftitutions liable to its attacks; the fits were irregular for the most part, and when the disease feemed nearly exhausted, it frequently returned again with conti derable violence; the fever and pain were confiderable, producing a great lofs of ftrength, which returned very flowly; large fecretions of bile took place, which if long retained in the firft paffages produced éruptions on the skin, or terminated in diarrhoea: the latter fymptom was not frequent till quite the clofe of the month. The mumps was now and then met with. Scarlet fever ftill continued, the fymptoms much the fame as in the laft month; fmallpox was more frequent, and more confluent; meafles alfo more prevalent; and hooping cough ftill very general. The Two BEES: A Fable. ON a fine morning in May, two headlong into the vessel, refolving to bees fet forward in queft of honey: the one wife and temperate, the other careless and extravagant. They foon arrived at a garden, enriched with aromatic herbs, the moft fragrant flowers, and the most delicious fruits. They regaled themselves for a time on the various dainties that were spread before them: the one loading his thigh, at intervals, with provifions for the hive against the diftant winter, the other revelling in fweets, without regard to any thing but his present gratifications. At length, they found a wide-mouthed phial, that hung beneath the bough of a peach-tree, filled with honey ready tempered, and expofed to their tafte in a moft alluring manner. The thoughtless epicure, fpite of all his friend's remonftrances, plunged indulge himfelf in all the pleasures of fenfuality. The philofopher, on the other hand, fipped a little with caution; but, being fufpicious of danger, flew off to fruits and flowers; where by the moderation of his meals, he improved his relish for the true enjoy.' ment of them. In the evening, however, he called upon his friend, to enquire whether he would return to the hive; but found him furfeited in sweets, which he was as unable to leave, as to enjoy Clogged in his wings, enfeebled in his feet, and his whole frame totally enervated, he was but just able to bid his friend adieu, and to lament, with his latest breath, that though a taste of pleafure might quicken the relifh of life, an unreftrained indulgence is inevitably destruction. Bbz The PYRENEAN SHEPHERDS: A Fragment. The celebrated Madame de Genlis, with Extracts from whofe excellent Writings on Education we have fo often enriched our Mifcellany, has just published a fimall volume in 12mo. eniilea Precis de la Conduite de Madame de Genlis depuis la Revolution-A brief Narrative of her Conduct fince the Revolution. To this interesting Narrative she has added the Fragment of a Journey to the Pyrenees, a Trangia ion of which we now prefent to our Readers; many of whom, no doubt, will be much gratified by the Inf rm tion, that this Lady, after havi g loft her Husband under the fangu.nary Tyranny of Roberspierre, has, at laji, found an Afylum in the Duchy of Holstein, at a Village called Silk, about fifteen Miles from Hamburgh. Here he refides with her Niece, on a Farm in the Occupation of her Son-in-law, General Valence; enjoying those. rural Scenes which appear fo captivating in her Writings, and which a Mind like bers, fo admirably furnished with Refources against Ennui, is beft qualified to enjoy. Na tour through fome of our fouthern provinces, about twelve years ago, I arrived at that great chain of mountains which forms the boundary between France and Spain. There, in a sweet fequeftered fpot, I hired a pretty cottage, with a view to spend the remaining fummer months. It was feated on the declivity of a mountain crowned with majestic trees and all the varieties of fylvan beauty: it was encircled too by rocks and by fprings of tranfparent water. It commanded the view of an extenfive valley, interfected by the ftreams formed by numerous mountain torrents. My only neighbours were hufbandmen and fhepherds. No buftling crowds difturbed my peaceful meditations, or recalled to recollection the reftlefs anxieties of felf-intereft and ambition, the violence and vani y of human paffions, and the delufive fcenes of folly and diffipation. No founds I heard but the majestic voice of Nature; the roaring of headlong torrents, rapid and profound; the broad refponfive lowe' of fcattered herds enlivening the fubjacent meadows; the rullic notes of the flagelet; and the fongs of the young fhepherds, fitting on the rocky heights. In thefe beautiful folitudes, I devoted the greatest part of the day to walking. My firft rambles were over the encircling moun ains. Here I obferved, that the flocks of sheep I often met with, were tended by children, or by youths not more than fifteen years old. While thefe youths were employed in the moft elevated parts of the mountain, the children, unaccuftomed yet to climb the steep and flippery rocks, remained below, in paftures not fo difficult of access. As I defcended these mountains, the shepherds appeared to be ftil younger and more diminutive; and, on the hills that bordered the vallies, the little fhepherds were not more than eight or nine years old. This led me to imagine that the flocks in the vallies were tended by fhepherds who were mere infants. Accofting one of these children, I faid, Don't you fometimes lead your fheep into the mea dows below?' He answered, fmiling, 'I fhall one day tend them there; but it will be a long time firft.' How fo?'- I must first tend them upon yonder heights; after that, I am to work with my father; and then, in about fixty years, I fhall be fent into the valley. What! are This was written in 1790. tered and grouped around with equal elegance and profufion; and close to this romantic fpot, two oppofite weeping willows, mingling their pliant branches, fhadea a fine ftream, which, after ruhing down the mountain with irrefiftible fury, now pursued its course, gently murmuring along the vale. The old fhepherd having permitted me to fit down by his fide, I told him the information which I had just received from the little fhepherd, and requefted him to explain it. • From time immemorial,' answered the aged fire, the inhabitants of these mountainous countries have devoted to the paftoral life, thofe two ages that feem more particularly formed for it; I mean, the two extremes of life-Infancy, which has juft iffed from the hands of Nature, and Old Age, now ready to return into her bofom. The children, as you have observed, tend the flocks on the heights. There they acquire that vigour, agility, and boldnefs, which characterize the mountaineers They are accustomed to climb the rocks, to wade through rapid-torrents, to contemplate without terror the deep abyfs, and often to run along the edge of frightful precipices in purfuit of a fugitive goat; but, at fifteen years of age, they quit the paftoral life, and become husbandmen: Proud of being affociated with his father in the labours of agriculture, the youth leaves his mountains without regret, and joyfully gives up his crook to weaker hands. Henceforth all the fhepherds of the valley old men? Yes, they are: our elder brothers are on the heights, and our grandfathers in the fields below. I now left the little fhepherd, and defcended into the delightful valley of Campana. The objects which firit attracted my attention, were the nume. rous herds and flocks fcattered over this -extenfive plain. Soon after, I perceived the venerable fhepherds, feated or reclining, on the verdant borders around. On feeing the hoary fires thus left to themselves, as it were, in these sequestered scenes, I felt a kind of painful fenfation. What a charming picture had I been contemplating! Delightful mountains! Happy abodes of youthful innocence, activity, and joy! I had just quitted whatever was most lovely and endearing, artless infancy and opening youth! What a contrast I now beheld in this approximation of the two extremes of life! It was the more ftriking, as these good od men, reclining on the grafs, feemed to be loft in melancholy muf. ing. Their filence and tranquillity relembled a deje ign of mind refulting from the cruel idea of being forfaken by their children. I approached them with fentiments of pity minged with veneration, and foon accolted an aged person whofe noble afpect rivetted my whole attention. His figure was at once full of dignity and fweetness; his hoary locks hung gracefully down his fhoulders; benignity and goodness were confpicuous in his counte ance; and the ferenity of his looks expreffed the tranquillity within. He was fitting by the perpendicular fide of a mountain overgrown by moss and various woodland plants. A ftupendous pile, of rocks, projecting from the fummit of this mountain, at the height of more than two hundred feet, formed a kind of ruftic canopy, which fhaded this aged fhepherd from the heat of the fun. Thefe rocks were overgrown with natural wreaths of rofe-coloured flowers, formed by long-trailing branches of periwincle, which hung in feftoons, fcat the fpade and the pick-ax find fitter employment for ris vigorous arm. However, before he defcends into the plain, he cafts a penfive look toward his flock, the fole object, hitherto, of all his care; nor can he receive without emotion the laft careffes of his faithful dog. Admitted into the clafs of hufbandmen, we remain in it till our ftrength decays; when we quit our laborious employment, we refume the crook and the wallet, and come into thefe meadows to fpend the remainder of our days. Here the old man paused, and a flight cloud obscured, for a mo ment, the ferenity of his looks. It mory, on a fudden, deferts me; now, was not without fome painful fenfa- cottages. perhaps, on the brink of a rapid tor- " No,' he answered, becaufe this repofe is ufeful. I fhould be wearied out with languor, if I were idle in our The man who is not ufeful to others is more especially a burden to himfef; but feated all the day un-my good Tobias is on the rock. He der thefe rocks, while I am tending is finging an air, which was a favourite my fheep, I ferve my family as well of mine at his years.'-Here he mark-‚‹ as when I was cultivating the ground, ed the time with his head, and gavety and conducting my plough. This fparkled in his eyes. Who is Toidea alone is fufficient to make me bias?' faid I. A young fhepherd, happy in my peaceful fituation. Be- about fifteen. He is engaged to my fides, I can affure you, that after more grandaughter Lina; they are of the than fifty years of hard labour, it is a fame age: I hope, before I die, to pleafing circumftance to have no other fee them married. This is the time duty to perform than that of fpending when our grandaughters come every our days, reclining thus at cafe on the morning to fee us, and to bring us verdant carpet.' And do you not our breakfast. Tobias always leads find this conftant inactivity quite his goats then to the verge of the rock wearifome?'- Is it poffible I fhould, under which he knows I am fitting.' amid the objects around, which recall The old man was ftill fpeaking, when to my mind the most endearing recol- I perceived, at a distance, on the other lections? Thofe mountains, which fide of the valley, a number of young furround us like an amphitheatre, were maidens, who tripped along the plain, the scenes of my earlieft youth; and' and were foon difperfed about it. At I know from hence my favourite the fame time, all the fhepherds on haunts by the difpofition of yonder the heights, haftened to the steep cliffs groups of firs and piles of rocks. My on the furrounding mountains. Some, decaying fight will not permit me to bending over the edge of the precidiftinguith all that your eyes can dif- pices, filled the mind with terror, at cover ; but memory fupplies the de- the fight of the ground crumbling fect, and faithfully reprefents what- down beneath them: others had climbever mine are now unable to difcern. ed to the tops of trees, in order to This kind of reverie requires a certain discover at a greater diftance, the application of mind which renders it charming fight expected every day at ever interefting. Fancy conveys me the fame hour. The flocks of the to thofe lofty mountains which feem mountains, left a moment to themloft in the clouds; ideas, never to be felves, might now wander at liberty. effaced, fill guide me through thofe It was all animation and bustle, both winding roads, and the fleep and flip- on the heights and in the plain. Cupery paths which interfect them. riofity and rifing love on the one Sometimes, indeed, my uncertain me- hand, and paternal tenderness on the other, produced a general emotion that muft fecure the inestimable pof among the young fhepherds and their I feffion.' We have seen that the life of a peafant of the Pyrenees is divided into three very remarkable periods. At first, from the age of eight to fifteen, he is the fhepherd of the mountains; he then enters into the clafs of hufbandmen; and, at laft, when old age arrives, becomes the fhepherd of the vallies. The most memorable of thefe epochas is that in which the young man is raised to the rank of husbandman. It is celebrated with particular folemnity. As foon as the shepherd of the mountains has completed his fifteenth year, his father goes to feek him, in order to introduce him into the fields, or into the vineyard, he is henceforth to cultivate. This memorable day is a festival for the young man's family. I was defirous of feeing this ruftic ceremony. I mentioned it to the good old peafant, the grandfather of Lina, who informed me that Tobias, in about a month, was to quit the mountains, and the rock to which his love for Lina had fo often led him. A fingular circumftance contributed to render this ceremony more interefling ftill. The father of Tobas, then feventy years of age, was, that very day, to retire from the class of hufbandmen, and enter into that of the fhepherds. He had four fons by a former marriage. Tobias was the iffue of a fecond wife; and the youngest of his brothers was at least thirty years old. On the day fixed for the ceremony, I went to the plain three hours before fun-fet. I found all the old fhepherds affembled there, at the foot of the mountain where Tobias was wont to tend his fheep. Soon after, we faw crowds of peasants of both fexes, and of all ages, who were drawn hither by curiofity. Lina, led by her mother, came to place herfelf near me, and, no doubt, was not the perfon leaft interested in the festival. The aged father of Tobias then appeared, furrounded by his four fons. walked with a grave and folemn step, He |