The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository Part 86

[[Sources:

Original: Daphne, prose, by Salomon Gessner 1730-1788.

Translations: Aminta, prose, in Gessner's works, 1802 (different translation than the one given here); prose, "Nicias and Glicera"; verse, "Daphne, or the Orphan".]]

THE MISER AND PRODIGAL.

The h.o.a.rding miser torments himself, and the spendthrift punishes the innocent. The h.o.a.rder heaps up for others; and the prodigal scatters what others had heaped. The h.o.a.rder thinks so much of the time to come, as to forget the present; the squanderer has his thoughts so much taken up with the present, as to forget the future. The first lives as if he were never to die, and the last as if he had but a day to enjoy. Both are unprofitable members of society; the one occasioning a stoppage in the circulation, and the other an haemorrhage. The h.o.a.rding miser is like a fog that infests the air; the prodigal resembles an outrageous storm that overturns all in its way. The h.o.a.rding miser is a ridiculous creature, and the prodigal a noxious animal.

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 166.)

Pulaski pressed me, but in vain, for I was unable to consent. As soon as Lodoiska knew that I should depart alone, and perceived that we were resolved not to inform her whither, she shed torrents of tears, and strove to detain me. I began to hesitate.

Lovzinski, cries my father-in-law at this critical moment, Lovzinski, depart! Wife, children, relations, all ought to be sacrificed, when it is necessary for the salvation of your country.

I instantly mount my horse, and make such haste, that I arrive by the middle of next day at Czenstachow. I here found forty brave men waiting for me, and determined for the most hazardous enterprise.

"Gentlemen," said I to them, "we are now met on purpose to carry a king out of the midst of his own capital. Those capable of attempting such a bold enterprise, are alone capable of effecting it: either success or death awaits on us!"

After this short harangue we prepare to depart. Kaluvski, forewarned of our design, had already procured twelve waggons, loaded with hay and straw, each of which was drawn by four good horses.

We instantly disguise ourselves as peasants; we hide our clothes, our sabres, our pistols, and the saddles of our horses, in the hay with which our waggons were partly filled; we agree upon certain signs, and I give them a _watch-word_, to be used according to circ.u.mstances.--Twelve of the conspirators, commanded by Kaluvski, enter into Warsaw, accompanied by as many waggons, which they themselves conduct. I divide the rest of my little troop into several brigades, on purpose to avert suspicion: each is ordered to march at some distance from the other, and to gain the capital by different gates.

We depart, and on Sat.u.r.day the 2d of November, 1771, arrive at Warsaw, and lodge together at a convent belonging to the Dominicans.

On the next day, which was Sunday, and which will for ever form a memorable epoch in the annals of Poland, one of my people of the name of Stravinski, being covered with rags, places himself near the collegiate church, and soon after proceeds demanding charity even at the gates of the royal palace, where he observes every thing that pa.s.sed. Several of the conspirators walked up and down the six narrow streets, in the neighbourhood of the great square, where Kaluvski and myself were posted. We remain in ambuscade during the whole day, and part of the afternoon.

At six o'clock at night the king leaves the palace; he is followed, and is seen to enter the hotel of his uncle, the grand chancellor of Lithuania.

All our followers receive notice of this event, and a.s.semble instantly: they throw off their miserable clothes, saddle their horses, and prepare their arms, in the large square belonging to the convent, where their movements are entirely concealed. They then sally forth, one after the other, under favour of the night. Too well known in Warsaw to hazard appearing there, without disguising my self, I still wear my peasant's dress, and I mount an excellent horse, caparisoned, however, after the common manner.

I then point out my followers the different posts in the suburbs, which I had a.s.signed them before our departure from the convent, and they were dispersed in such a manner, that all the avenues to the palace of the grand chancellor were carefully and strictly guarded.

Between nine and ten o'clock at night, the king comes forth on purpose to return home; and we remark, with joy, that his attendants were far from being numerous.

The carriage was preceded by two men, who carried _flambeaux_, some officers of his suit, two gentlemen and an esquire followed. I know not what was the name of the grandee in the coach along with the king. There were two pages, one to each door, two haydukes running by the side of the equipage, and three footmen, in the royal livery behind.

The king proceeds slowly: part of my people a.s.semble at some distance; twelve of the most determined spring forward: I put myself at their head, and we advance at a good pace.

As there was a Russian garrison at that very moment in Warsaw, we affect to speak the language of those foreigners, so that our petty troop might be mistaken for one of their patroles.

We overtake the carriage at about a hundred and fifty paces from the grand chancellor's palace, and exactly between those of the bishop of Cracow and of the late grand general of Poland.

All of a sudden we pa.s.s the heads of the foremost horses, so that those who preceded, found themselves separated from those who surrounded the royal equipage.

I instantly give the signal agreed upon. Kaluvski gallops up, with the remainder of the conspirators: I present a pistol to the postillion, who instantly stops; the coachman is fired upon, and precipitated beneath the wheels. Of the two haydukes who endeavoured to defend their prince, one drops, pierced with two b.a.l.l.s; the other is overturned by means of a backhanded stroke from a sabre, which he receives on the head; the steed belonging to the esquire falls down covered with wounds; one of the pages is dismounted, and his horse taken; pistol-b.a.l.l.s fly about in all directions--in short, the attack was so hot, and the fire so violent, that I trembled for the king's life.

He himself, however, preserving the utmost coolness in the midst of the danger, had now descended from his carriage, and was striving to regain his uncle's palace on foot. Kaluvski arrests and seizes him by the hair; seven or eight of the conspirators surround, disarm, overpower him, and, pressing him between their horses, make off at a full gallop towards the end of the street.

During this moment, I confess that I thought Pulaski had basely deceived me; that the death of the monarch was resolved upon, and that a plot had been formed to a.s.sa.s.sinate him.

All of a sudden I form my resolves; I clap spurs to my horse, overtake the little band, cry out to them to stop, and threaten to kill the first person who should dare to disobey me.

That G.o.d who is the protector of good kings, watched over the safety of M. de P***! Kaluvski and his followers stop at the sound of my well-known voice. We mount the king on horseback, make off at full speed, and regain the ditch that surrounded the city, which the monarch is constrained to leap, in company with us.

At that moment a panic terror takes possession of my troop; at fifty paces distant from the ramparts, there were no more than seven who surrounded the person of the king.

The night was dark and rainy, and it was necessary to dismount every instant, on purpose to sound the mora.s.s with which we were surrounded.

The horse on which the monarch rode fell twice, and broke his leg at the second fall: during these violent movements, his majesty lost his _pelisse_, and the shoe belonging to his left foot.

"If you wish that I should follow you," says he to us, you must furnish me with another horse and a pair of boots.

We remount him once more, and, on purpose to gain the road by which Pulaski had promised me to advance, we resolve to pa.s.s through a village called Burakow; but the king exclaims, "Do not go that way; there are Russians there!"

I immediately change our _route_; but in proportion as we advance through the wood of Beliany, our number continues to diminish. In a short time, I perceive n.o.body around me but Kaluvski and Stravinski: a few minutes after, we are challenged by a Russian sentinel on horseback, at whose voice we instantly stop, greatly alarmed for our safety.

"Let us kill him!" cries the ferocious Kaluvski, pointing to the king.

I instantly avow to him, without disguise, the horror which such a proposition inspired me with. "Very well, you may then take upon you the task of conducting him," adds this cruel hearted man, who immediately after precipitates himself into the woods. Stravinski follows him, and I alone remain with the king.

"Lovzinski," says he, addressing himself to me, as soon as they were out of sight; "it is you, I can no longer doubt it; it is you, for I will remember your voice!" I utter not a single word in reply. He then mildly adds, "It is certainly you Lovzinski! Who would have thought this ten years ago?"

We find ourselves at that moment near to the convent of Beliany, distant no more than a single league from Warsaw.

"Lovzinski," continues the king, "permit me to enter this convent, and save yourself."

"You must follow me," was my only answer.

"It is in vain," rejoins the monarch, "that you are disguised; it is in vain that you endeavour to a.s.sume a feigned voice: I know you well, I am fully a.s.sured that you are Lovzinski: ah, who would have said so ten years since? You would then have lost your life, on condition of preserving that of your friend."

His majesty now ceases to speak; we advance some time, in profound silence, which he again breaking, exclaims. "I am overcome with fatigue--_if you wish to carry me alive, permit me to repose myself for a single moment_."

(_To be continued._)