The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository Part 118

Ah, thoughtless race! in youthful prime, You mock the ravages of time, As if you could elude its rage; That piteous form which you despise, With wrinkled front and beamless eyes; That form, alas! you'll take with age.

Some vital sparks that every day, Time's rapid pinion sweeps away, Prepare you for that hapless state; When left and slighted in your turn, Your former levities you'll mourn, And own the justice of your fate.

AN ELEGY.

[by the same.]

Near yon lone pile, with ivy overspread, Fast by the riv'let's peace-persuading sound; Where sleeps the moonlight on yon verdant bed, O, humbly press that consecrated ground!

For there does EDMUND rest--the learned swain!

And there his pale-ey'd phantom loves to rove: Young EDMUND, fam'd for each harmonious strain, And the sore wounds of ill-requited love.

Like some tall tree that spreads its branches wide, And loads the zephyr with its soft perfume; His manhood blossom'd ere the faithless pride Of fair LUCINDA sunk him to the tomb.

But soon did righteous Heav'n her crime pursue, Where'er with wilder'd steps she wander'd pale; Still EDMUND's image rose to blast her view--- Still EDMUND's voice accus'd her in each gale.

With keen remorse, and tortur'd guilt's alarm, Amid the pomp of affluence she pin'd; Nor all that lur'd her faith from EDMUND's arms, Could sooth the conscious horrors of her mind.

Go, Traveller! tell the tale with sorrow fraught, Some lovely maid perchance, or blooming youth, May hold it in remembrance and be taught, That riches cannot pay for Love or Truth.

ODE TO REFLECTION.

'Twas when Nature's darling child, Flora, fan'd by zephyrs mild, Th' gorgeous canopy outspread O'er the sun's declining head, Wending from the buz of day, Thus a bard attun'd his lay:

Bright Reflection, child of heav'n, n.o.blest gift to mortals given, G.o.ddess of the pensive eye, Glancing thro' eternity, Rob'd in intellectual light, Come, with all thy charms bedight.

Tho' nor fame, nor splendid worth, Mark'd thy humble vot'ry's birth, s.n.a.t.c.h'd by thee from cank'ring care, I defy the fiend Despair; All the joys that Bacchus loves, All inglorious pleasure proves; All the fleeting modish toys.

Buoy'd by Folly's frantic noise; All, except the sacred lore, Flowing from thy boundless store!

For when thy bright form appears, Even wild Confusion hears, Chaos glows, impervious night Shrinks from thy all-piercing sight; Yet, alas! what vain extremes Mortals prove in Error's schemes Sunk profound in torpor's trance, Or with levity they dance, Or, in murmers deep, the soul Thinks it bliss beyond the pole; Bounding swift o'er time and place, Vacant still thro' boundless s.p.a.ce, Leaving happiness at home, Thus the mental vagrants roam But when thou with sober mien, Deign'st to bless this wayward scene, Like Aurora s.h.i.+ning clear O'er the mental hemisphere; Who but hears a soothing strain Warbling "Heaven's ways are plain!"

Who but hears the charmer say,

"These obscure the living ray:---- "Self-love, the foulest fiend of night "That ever stain'd the virgin-light, "Coward, wretch, who shuns to share, "Or sooth the woes that others bear; "Envy with an eagle's eye; "Scandal's tales that never die; "Int'rest vile, with countless tongues, "Trembling for ideal wrongs; "Flatt'ry base, with supple knee, "Cringing low servility: "Prejudice, with eyes askew, "Still suspecting ought that's new,-- "Would but men from these refrain, "Eden's bow'rs would bloom again, "Doubts in embryo melt away, "Truth's eternal sun-beams play!"

NEW-YORK: _+Printed by THOMAS BURLING, Jun. No. 115, Cherry-street+-- where +Subscriptions+ for this +Magazine+ (at 6s. per quarter) will be gratefully received--And at No. 33, +Oliver-Street+._

_UTILE DULCI._

THE NEW-YORK WEEKLY MAGAZINE; or, Miscellaneous Repository.

+Vol. II.+] +Wednesday, February 1, 1797.+ [+No. 83.+

THE PIEDMONTESE SHARPER.

In the year 1695, a Piedmontese, who stiled himself Count Caraffa, came to Vienna, and privately waited on the prime minister, pretending he was sent by the duke of Savoy on a very important affair, which they two were to negotiate without the privity of the French court. At the same time he produced his credentials, in which the duke's seal and signature were very exactly imitated. He met with a very favourable reception, and, without affecting any privacy, took upon him the t.i.tle of envoy extraordinary from the court of Savoy. He had several conferences with the imperial council, and made so great a figure in the most distinguished a.s.semblies, that once at a private concert at court, the captain of the guard, denying him admittance, he demanded satisfaction in his master's name, and the officer was obliged to ask his pardon. His first care was to ingratiate himself with the jesuits, who at that time bore a great sway at court; and in order to this, he went to visit their church, which remained unfinished, they pretended from the low circ.u.mstances of the society, he asked them how much money would complete it. An estimate to the amount of two thousand louis-d'ors being laid before him, Caraffa a.s.sured them of his constant attachment to their order; that he had gladly embraced such a public opportunity of shewing his esteem for them, and that they might immediately proceed to finis.h.i.+ng their church. In consequence of his promise, he sent that very day the two thousand louis-d'ors, at which sum the charge had been computed.

He was very sensible this was a part he could not act long without being detected; and that this piece of generosity might not be at his own expence, he invited a great number of ladies of the first rank to supper and a ball. Every one of the guests had promised to be there; but he complained to them all of the ill returns made to his civilities, adding, that he had been often disappointed, as the ladies made no scruple of breaking their word on such occasions, and, in a jocular way, insisted on a pledge from every lady for their appearance at the time appointed. One gave him a ring, another a pearl necklace, a third a pair of earings, a fourth a gold watch, and several such trinkets, to the amount of twelve thousand dollars. On the evening appointed not one of the guests were missing; but it may easily be conceived, what a damp it struck upon the whole a.s.sembly, when it was at last found that the gay Piedmontese was a sharper, and had disappeared. Nor had the jesuits any great reason to applaud themselves on the success of their dissimulation; for a few days before his departure, the pretended count, putting on an air of deep concern, placed himself in the way of the emperor's confessor, who inquiring into the cause of his apparent melancholy, he intrusted him with the important secret, that he was short of money at a juncture when eight thousand louis-d'ors were immediately wanted for his master's affairs, to be distributed at the imperial court. The jesuits, to whom he had given a recent instance of his liberality by so large a donation, immediately furnished him with the sum he wanted; and with this acquisition, and the ladies pledges, he thought he had carried his jests far enough, and very prudently withdrew from Vienna.

ALMANZOR, THE ARABIAN.

The great Almanzor, as he is called, to distinguish him from some other Arabian princes of his name, was king of Cordova, in Spain. He was no less famous for his wisdom than for his courage; he wrote a book of maxims, from which these that follow are taken.

"If hungry beggars are whipt through the streets, beggars in fine cloaths have a right to their proportion of notice, and should be sent to the gallies.

"Pride is as true a beggar, very often, as poverty can be, but a good deal more saucy.

"A prince who resolves to do no good, unless he can do every thing, teaches his people to see that they are slaves, and they have a right to do whatever they have a mind to.

"Power and liberty are like heat and moisture; when they are well mixed, every thing prospers; when they are single, they ever do mischief.

"I believe the least useful part of the people have the most credit with the prince. Men will conclude therefore, that to get every thing, it is necessary to be good for nothing."

THE VICTIM OF MAGICAL DELUSION; _OR, INTERESTING MEMOIRS OF MIGUEL, DUKE DE CA*I*A._ Unfolding Many Curious Unknown Historical Facts.

_Translated from the German of Tsc.h.i.n.k._

(Continued from page 235.)

I had not yet recovered from my astonishment at the speech of the Duke, when Alumbrado asked me, after a short pause:

"Then you think it absurd to believe in the possibility of apparitions?"

"A belief that has no firm foundation is absurd."

"You then think every apparition, however it be shaped--"

"Is delusion, the source of which arises either from external natural causes, or flows from our bewildered imagination, or from both at once."