EPIGRAM.
ON SEEING THE SERVANT OF A SCOUNDREL BEAT HIS MASTER’S COAT.
Why merciless thwack Peter’s coat?
My friend you surely jest!
I’d rather beat the Losel’s back,
And let his vestment rest.
The Castigator look’d and smil’d;
Said he, “You’ve wrong premis’d;
“For ’tis the habits of the man
“That make the man despis’d.
NEW-YORK: Printed by JOHN BULL, No. 115, Cherry-Street, where every Kind of Printing work is executed with the utmost Accuracy and Dispatch.—Subscriptions for this Magazine (at 2s. per month) are taken in at the Printing-Office, and by E. MITCHELL, Bookseller, No. 9, Maiden-Lane.
UTILE DULCI. | ||
The New-York Weekly Magazine;OR, MISCELLANEOUS REPOSITORY. | ||
| Vol. II.] | WEDNESDAY, October 12, 1796. | [No. 67. |
HYMNS
Of the native Peruvians, used at the solemn worship of the Sun, which they adore as chief of their Gods. Extracted from the Incas, by Marmontel, a beautiful work, combining all the elegancies of language, the embellishments of fancy, and the charms of historical narration. It it intended for publication in 2 vols. by the Editor.
CHORUS OF THE INCAS.
Soul of the universe! thou which from the heights of Heaven ceases not to pour forth, in one great stream of light, the principles of warmth, of life, and of fertility; O Sun! receive the vows of thy children, and of a happy people who adore thee!
PONTIFF ALONE.
O King! whose lofty throne blazes with immortal splendor, with what awful majesty dost thou reign in the vast empire of the sky! When thou appearest in thy glory, and shakest the sparkling diadem that adorns thy head, thou art the delight of the earth! thou art the pride of Heaven! Whither are they fled, those fires which so late bespangled the veil of night? Could they abide the majesty of thy presence? Did it not please thee to retire, and give them liberty to come forth and shew themselves, they would remain swallowed up for ever in the abyss of thy effulgence. Their place would be no where to be found.
CHORUS OF VIRGINS.
O delight of the world! Happy the wives who reign in thy celestial court! How beautiful art thou at thy awaking! How magnificent the ceremonies of thy rising! What charms are scattered by thy presence! The fair companions of thy slumbers undraw the purple curtains of the pavilion where thou reposest, and thy first looks dispel the vast obscurity of night. Oh, with what joy must nature have been transported at receiving thy first visit! Surely she remembers it: nor ever does she greet thy return without experiencing those tender yearnings which a fond daughter feels at the return of her long absent father.
THE PONTIFF ALONE.
Soul of the universe! but for thee, the vast ocean were but a motionless and frozen lump: the earth a barren heap of sand and mud; the atmosphere a gloomy void. Thou cherishedst the elements with thy vivifying and genial warmth; the air became fluid and insinuating, the waters moist and yielding, the earth animated and fruitful. Every thing took life; every thing wore the face of beauty. The elements, those universal parents which till then had lain fast locked in the chill arms of rest, now moved into alliance. The fire slid into the bosom of the waters: the waters parting into vapour, flew aloft, and spread themselves through the air: from the air, the earth received into her womb the precious rudiments of fertility: then began she to bring forth the unceasing fruits of that ever-renewing love, first kindled by thy rays.
CHORUS OF INCAS.
Soul of the universe! O Sun! art thou alone the Author of all the good thou bringest us? Or art thou but the minister of a First Cause; an intelligence superior to thee? If it be thy own will that guides thee, receive the effusions of our gratitude: if thou dost but accomplish the will of a Supreme Invisible Being, cause our vows to come unto him; how should it but please him to be adored in thee, his brightest image?
THE PEOPLE.
Soul of the universe! Father of Manco! Father of our kings! O Sun! protect thy people, and make thy children prosper!
++++++++++++++++
DISCONTENT.
Dionysus Senior, though he was the richest and most potent tyrant in his time, yet was exceedingly afflicted and discontented in his mind, because he could not make better verses than the poet Philoxenus, and dispute more learnedly than Plato the philosopher; therefore in great wrath and vexation, he threw one into a dungeon, and drove the other into banishment.
INTERESTING HISTORY OF
THE BARON DE LOVZINSKI.
With a relation of the most remarkable occurrences in the life of the celebrated Count Pulaski, well known as the champion of American Liberty, and who bravely fell in its defence before Savannah, 1779.
Interspersed with Anecdotes of the late unfortunate King of Poland, so recently dethroned.
(Continued from [page 107].)
I returned home in a state of desperation. The odious names which Pulaski had lavished on me, returned unceasingly to my reflection. The interests of Poland, and those of M. de P——, appeared to be so intimately connected together, that I did not perceive in what manner I could betray my fellow-citizens by serving my friend; in the mean time I was obliged either to abandon or renounce Lodoiska for ever. What was I to resolve? what part should I take? I passed the whole night in a state of the most cruel uncertainty; and when the day appeared, I went towards Pulaski’s house, without yet having come to any determination.
The only domestic who remained there informed me, that his lord had departed at the beginning of the night, with his daughter, after having first dismissed all his people. Think of my despair on hearing this news. I asked to what part Pulaski had retired. But my question was in vain, he informed me that he was certainly ignorant of the place of his destination.
“All that I can tell you,” says he, “is that you had scarce gone away yesterday evening, when we heard a great noise in the apartment of his daughter. Still terrified at the scene which had taken place between you, I approached the door, and listened. Lodoiska wept: her furious father overwhelmed her with injuries, bestowed his malediction upon her, and I myself heard him exclaim: ‘To love a traitor, is to be one! Ungrateful wretch! I shall conduct you to a place of safety, where you shall henceforth be at a distance from seduction.’”
Could I any longer doubt the extent of my misery? I instantly called for Boleslas, one of the most faithful of my domestics: I ordered him to place trusty spies about the palace of Pulaski, who should bring an account of every thing that passed there; and commanded that if the count returned to the capital before me, he should follow him wherever he went. Having given these instructions, and not yet despairing of still finding the family at one of their seats in the neighbourhood of the metropolis, I myself set out in pursuit of my mistress.
I accordingly searched through all the domains of Pulaski, and asked concerning Lodoiska of all the passengers whom I met, but without success. After having spent eight days in fruitless enquiry, I resolved to return to Warsaw, and I was not a little astonished, on my arrival, to find a Russian army encamped on the banks of the Vistula, almost under the very walls of that city.
It was night when I entered the capital: the palaces of the grandees were all illuminated, an immense multitude filled the streets; I heard the songs of joy; I beheld wine flowing in rivulets in the public squares: every thing announced to me that Poland had a king.
Boleslas, who expected me with impatience, informed me that Pulaski had returned alone on the second day after my departure; and that he had not stirred from his own palace but to repair to the diet, where, in spite of his efforts, the ascendancy of Russia became every day more manifest. “During the last assembly held this very morning,” adds he, “M. de P—— united almost all the suffrages in his favour, and was about to be declared king, when Pulaski pronounced the fatal Veto: at that instant twenty sabres were brandished in the air. The fierce palatine of ————, whom the count had insulted in the former assembly, was the first to rush forwards, and gave him a terrible wound on the head. Zaremba, and some others, flew to the defence of their friend; but all their efforts would have been unable to have saved him, if M. de P———— had not ranged himself on their side, exclaiming at the same time, that he would sacrifice, with his own hand, the first person who dared to approach him. On this the assailants retired. In the mean time Pulaski, fainting with the loss of blood, was carried off the field in a state of insensibility. Zaremba departed also, swearing to avenge his friend. Having thus become master of the deliberations, the numerous partisans of M. de P————, instantly proclaimed him sovereign.
“Pulaski, who had been carried to his palace, was soon restored to life; and the surgeons who attended him, declared that his wounds, although dangerous, were not mortal. In that state, although languishing under the most cruel torments, contrary to the advice of all his friends, he ordered himself to be lifted into his carriage, and before noon he left Warsaw, accompanied by Mazeppa and a few male-contents.”
It was scarcely possible to have announced worse news to me. My friend was upon the throne, but my reconciliation with Pulaski appeared henceforth impossible, and in all appearance Lodoiska was lost for ever. I knew her father so well as to be under apprehensions lest he should proceed to extremities with his daughter. I was affrighted at the present, I durst not look forwards towards the future; and my heart was so devoured with chagrin, that I did not go out, even to felicitate the new king.
One of my people, whom Boleslas dispatched after Pulaski, returned at the end of the fourth day: he had followed him fifteen leagues from the capital; when, about that distance, Zaremba, who perceived a stranger at a little distance from the carriage, began to conceive suspicions. As they proceeded, four of his followers, who had concealed themselves behind the ruins of an old house, surprised my courier, and conducted him to Pulaski. He, with a pistol in his hand, forced him to acknowledge to whom he belonged. “I shall send you back to Lovzinski,” said the fierce republican, “on purpose to announce from me, that he shall not escape my just vengeance.” At these words they blindfolded my servant, who could not tell where they had carried him. At the end of four-and-twenty hours they resumed, and tying a handkerchief once more about his eyes they put him into a carriage, which having stopped at length, after a journey of several hours, he was ordered to descend. Scarce had he put his foot upon the ground but his guards departed at a full gallop; on which he removed the bandage, and found himself precisely on the same spot as that on which he had been first arrested.
This intelligence filled me with uneasiness; the menaces of Pulaski terrified me, much less on my own account than on Lodoiska’s, who remained in his power: in the midst of his fury he might sacrifice her life! I resolved therefore to expose myself to every species of danger, on purpose to discover the retreat of the father, and the prison of his only child.
On the succeeding day, after informing my sisters of my design, I left the capital: Boleslas alone accompanied me, and I passed for his brother. We wandered over all Poland, and I then perceived that the fears of Pulaski were but too well justified by the event. Under pretence of obliging the inhabitants to take the oath of fidelity to the new King, the Russians, scattered about in the provinces, desolated the country, and committed a multitude of exactions in the cities.
After having spent three months in vain enquiries, despairing of being able to find Lodoiska, touched with the most lively grief for the fate of my country, and weeping at one and the same time for her misfortunes and my own, I was about to return to Warsaw, to inform the new king of the excesses committed by those foreigners in his states, when an adventure that at first seemed to be very inauspicious, forced me to a very different resolution.
The Turks having declared war against Russia, the Tartars of Budziac and the Crimea made frequent incursions into Volhynia, where I then was. Four of those robbers attacked us one afternoon, as we were leaving a wood near Ostropol. I had imprudently neglected to load my pistols; but I made use of my sabre with so much address and good luck, that in a short time, two of them fell covered with wounds. Boleslas encountered the third: the fourth attacked me with great fury; he gave me a slight cut upon the leg, but received a terrible stroke in return, that dismounted him from his horse, and felled him to the ground. Boleslas at the same moment perceived himself disencumbered from his enemy, who, at the noise made by his comrade’s fall, took to flight. He whom I had just vanquished, then addressed me in very bad Polish, and said: “a brave man like you ought to be generous. I beg my life of you; instead of putting me to death, succour me, relieve me, bind up my wounds, and assist me to arise.”
He demanded quarter with an air so noble, that I did not hesitate for a moment. I accordingly descend from my horse, and Boleslas and myself having helped him to arise, we dressed his wounds. “You behave well!” says the Tartar to me; “you behave well!” As he spoke we beheld a cloud of dust, and in a moment after more than three hundred Tartars rushed upon us at full speed. “Be not afraid, dread nothing,” says he whom I had spared; “I am chief of this troop.” Accordingly, by means of a sign, he stops his followers, who were on the point of massacring us; and speaking to them in their own language, which I was unable to comprehend, they instantly open their ranks on purpose to permit us to pass.
“Brave man,” exclaims their captain, addressing himself to me once more, “had I not reason to say that you behaved well? You left me my life, and I now save yours; it is sometimes right to spare an enemy, and even a robber! Hear me, my friend: in attacking you, I followed my profession, and you did your duty in conquering me. I pardon you, you have already pardoned me; let us therefore embrace.”—He then adds: “The day is wasting, and I would not advise you to travel in these cantons during the present night. My people are about to repair each to his respective post, and I cannot answer for their discretion. You perceive a castle on a rising ground, towards the right: it belongs to a certain Pole of the name of Dourlinski, for whom we have a high esteem, because he is very rich. Go, demand an asylum from him; tell him that you have wounded Titsikan, and that Titsikan pursues you. He is acquainted with my name: I have already made him pass many an uneasy night. As to the rest, you may rely on it, that while you remain with him, his castle shall be sacred; but be careful not to come forth on any account before the end of three days, and not to remain there longer than eight.---Adieu!”
It was with unfeigned pleasure that we took leave of Titsikan and his companions. The advice of the Tartar was a command: I therefore said to Boleslas; “Let us immediately make for the castle that he has now pointed out to us; I am well acquainted with this same Dourlinski by name, Pulaski has sometimes spoken to me concerning him: he perhaps is not ignorant of the place to which the Count has retired; and it is not impossible but that with a little address we may be able to draw the secret from him. I shall say at all events that we are sent by Pulaski, and this recommendation will be of more service to us than that of Titsikan: in the mean time, Boleslas, do not forget that I am your brother, and be sure not to discover me.”
(To be continued.)
