The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository Part 82

Lorenzo Musata, a native of Catania, in Sicily, was, in the year 1774, taken in a Maltese s.h.i.+p by an Algerine corsair. When the prize was carried into port, he was sold to a Turkish officer, who treated him with all the severity that the unfeeling disposition of a barbarian, rendered intolerable by bigotry, could inflict. It happened fortunately for the Sicilian, that his master's son Fezulah, (about ten years old) became extremely fond of him; and, by numberless little offices of kindness, alleviated his slavery. Lorenzo, in consequence, became as much attached to the boy, as the boy was to him; so that they were seldom separate from each other. One day, as Fezulah (being then sixteen) was bathing in the sea, the current carried him off; and he certainly would have perished, had not Lorenzo plunged in, and saved him, at the hazard of his life. His affection was now heightened by grat.i.tude, and he frequently interceded with his father for his deliverer's emanc.i.p.ation, but in vain. Lorenzo often sighed for his country, and Fezulah determined that he should return there. With this resolution, he one night conveyed him on board an English merchant-s.h.i.+p that lay off Algiers; and having embraced him with tears, retired with all that exquisite glow of pleasure and self-approbation, which virtue feels in acting with grat.i.tude and generosity. The Sicilian returned to his country, where he found that a relation had bequeathed him a small tenement; upon which he settled, and enjoyed the sweets of competency and repose, rendered infinitely more grateful, than they otherwise would have been, by the remembrance of his past slavery. At length growing tired of a sedentary life, he accompanied his kinsman, a master of a vessel, to Genoa. On landing in the D'a.r.s.ena, he heard a voice cry out--'Oh, my friend, my Lorenzo,' and instantly found himself in the arms of Fezulah. He was at first lost in surprize and joy; but how rapid was the transition to grief, when he perceived by his chains that Fezulah was a slave!--He had been taken by a Genoese galley on his voyage to Aleppo. You have already seen that the ruling pa.s.sions of Lorenzo's breast were generosity and grat.i.tude; and to these he now determined to sacrifice every other consideration. Having divided his purse with his former companion, he took his leave, telling him he should be again at Genoa within two months. And so he was. He returned to Sicily; sold his little tenement, though to great disadvantage, and with the money ransomed his friend, whom he sent back to his country.

Fezulah has lately visited Lorenzo at Catania, where they now are, and has not only re-purchased for him his estate, but considerably enriched him.

These actions might by some, who have more prudence than philanthropy, be deemed enthusiastic; I must however, consider them as genuine virtue, and am only sorry I cannot be an a.s.sociate in the friends.h.i.+p of Fezulah and Lorenzo.

_ANECDOTE of the Celebrated JOHN de WITT._

This ill.u.s.trious pensionary of Holland, when he was one day asked how he could get through with ease the immense load of business, that would oppress most other men; replied, by doing one thing at a time. Another of his maxims, in the conduct of life, and of still more value than all his political ones, was to be careful of his health, but careless of his life. This great man well knew the importance of health to the mental as well as to the corporeal functions, and at the same time was convinced that in certain situations, where the duty to one's country, to one's relations, to one's friends, and to one's self, demands it, that a sacrifice of those is justly and honourably made, and that not to make it is "propter vitam vivendi perdere causam." The manner of life of this great man, was so simple, that though his name appeared by the side of that of emperors and of kings in many public acts, that he used to walk from his own house to that of the States at the Hague, attended only by a single servant, and that one man and one maid-servant composed his whole domestic establishment.

ON IMAGINATION.

The imagination is a quality of the soul, not only a brilliant but an happy one, for it is more frequently the cause of our happiness, than of our misery; it presents us with more pleasures than vexations, with more hopes than fears. Men of dull and heavy dispositions, who are not affected by any thing, vegetate and pa.s.s their lives in a kind of tranquility, but without pleasure or delight; like animals which see, feel, and taste nothing, but that which is under their eyes, paws, or teeth; but the imagination, which is proper to man, transports us beyond ourselves, and makes us taste future and the most distant pleasures. Let us not be told, that it makes us also foresee evils, pains, and accidents, which will perhaps never arrive: it is seldom that imagination carries us to these panic fears, unless it be deranged by physical causes. The sick man sees dark phantoms, and has melancholy ideas; the man in health has no dreams but such as are agreeable; and as we are more frequently in a good, than a bad state of health, our natural state is to desire, to hope, and to enjoy. It is true, that the imagination, which gives us some agreeable moments, exposes us, when once we are undeceived, to others which are painful. There is no person who does not wish to preserve his life, his health, and his property; but the imagination represents to us our life, as a thing which ought to be very long; our health established and unchangeable; and our fortune inexhaustible: when the two latter of these illusions cease before the former, we are much to be pitied.

REMARK.

A man who pretends to know every thing, never knows any thing. A man of general information, as he is called, has, in reality, never any upon a particular subject.

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 158._)

I began my march about ten o'clock.---At midnight we surprised our enemies in their camp. Never was a defeat more complete: we killed seven hundred men; we took nine hundred prisoners; we seized all their cannon, the military chest, and the ammunition.

At break of day Pulaski marched out to join me with the remainder of the troops: he brought Lodoiska along with him: we were married in Pulaski's tent. All the camp resounded with songs of gladness: valour and beauty were celebrated in joyous epithalamiums: it seemed to be the festival of Venus and Mars; and it might be truly said, that every soldier appeared to be impressed with the same sentiments as myself, and that they all partook of my happiness.

After I had given up the first days of so dear an union entirely to love, I began to think of recompensing the heroic fidelity of Boleslas.

My father-in-law presented him with one of his castles, situate at some leagues from the capital; and Lodoiska and myself added to this princely donation a considerable sum in ready money, on purpose to enable him to lead an independent and tranquil life.

He first refused to leave us; but we commanded him to go and take possession of his castle, and live peaceably in that honourable retreat which his services had so amply merited. On the day of his departure I took him aside:---"You must go in my name," said I, "and wait upon our monarch at Warsaw: inform him that I am united in the bonds of Hymen to the daughter of Pulaski: state to him that I am armed on purpose to chase out of his kingdom those foreigners who are ravaging it; and tell him, in particular, that Lovzinski, a foe to the Russians, is not the enemy of his King."

The recital of our operations during eight succeeding years of b.l.o.o.d.y war would be uninteresting.---Sometimes vanquished; much oftener victorious; equally great in the midst of a defeat, as formidable after a victory, and always superior to events, Pulaski attracted and fixed the attention of all Europe, whom he astonished by his long and vigorous resistance. Obliged to abandon one province, he made incursions into, and performed new prodigies of valour in another: and it was thus that, in marching successively throughout all the palatinates, he signalized in each of them, by some glorious exploit, that eternal hatred which he had sworn against the enemies of Poland.

Wife of a warrior, daughter of a hero, accustomed to the tumult of a camp, Lodoiska accompanied us every where. Of five children which she had borne me, an only daughter alone remained to us, about eighteen months old. One day, after a most obstinate engagement, the victorious Russians precipitated themselves towards my tent, on purpose to plunder it. Pulaski and myself, followed by some n.o.bles, flew to the defence of Lodoiska, whom we saved with difficulty: my daughter, however, had been carried off.

This lovely child, by a sage precaution which her mother had wisely made use of in those times of intestine commotion, had the arms of our family impressed, by means of a chemical preparation, under her left breast: but my search after my daughter has. .h.i.therto been ineffectual. Alas!

Dorliska, my dear Dorliska, either exists in slavery, or exists no more!

This loss affected me with the most lively sorrow. Pulaski, however, appeared almost insensible to my misfortunes; either because his mind was occupied at this moment with the great project which he soon after communicated to me, or because the miseries of his country alone could affect his stoic heart. He, as usual, re-a.s.sembles the remains of his army, takes possession of an advantageous post, employs several days in fortifying, and maintains himself in it for three whole months, against all the efforts of the Russians.

It, however, became at length necessary that he should abandon this situation, as provisions were beginning to be scarce.---Pulaski, on this occasion, came to my tent; and, having ordered every one to retire, when we alone remained, he addressed me as follows:

"Lovzinski, I have just reason for complaining of your conduct. Formerly you supported, along with me, the burden of command, and I was enabled to divide with my son-in-law a part of my laborious avocations: but, for these two last months, you do nothing but weep; you sigh like a woman!

You have abandoned me in a critical moment, when your a.s.sistance was become the most necessary! You see how I am attacked on all sides; I fear not for myself; I am not unhappy for my own life: but if we perish, the state has no longer any defenders.

"Awake, Lovzinski! hew n.o.bly you once partic.i.p.ated in my cares! Do not now remain the useless witness of them. We are indeed bathed in Russian blood: our fellow citizens are avenged; but they are not saved: nay, even in a short time we may be able no longer to defend them."

"You astonish me, Pulaski! Whence these sinister auguries?"

"I am not alarmed without reason. Consider our present position: I am forced to awaken in every heart the love of its country; I have found no where but degenerate men born for slavery, or weak ones, who, although penetrated with a sense of their own misfortunes, have bounded all their views to barren complaints.

"Some true citizens are, indeed, ranged under my standards; but eight long and b.l.o.o.d.y campaigns have lessened their number, and almost extinguished them. I become enfeebled by my very victories:--our enemies appear more numerous after their defeats."

"I repeat to you, Pulaski, once more, that you astonish me! In circ.u.mstances no less disastrous, no less unhappy, than the present, I have beheld you sustain yourself by your courage. . . . .

"Do you think that it now abandons me? True valour does not consist in being blind to danger, but in braving it after it has been foreseen. Our enemies prepare for my defeat; however, if you choose, Lovzinski, the very day which they point out for their triumph shall perhaps be that destined to record their ruin, and achieve the safety of our fellow-citizens!"

"If I choose! Can you doubt my sentiments? Speak! what would you have done?"

"To strike the boldest stroke that I ever meditated! Forty chosen men are a.s.sembled at Czenstachow along with Kaluvski, whose bravery is well known; they want a chief, able, firm, intrepid---It is you whom I have chosen."

"Pulaski, I am ready."

"I will not dissemble to you the danger of the enterprize; the event is doubtful, and, if you do not succeed, your ruin is inevitable."

"I tell you that I am ready, therefore explain yourself."

"You are not ignorant, that scarce four thousand men now fight under my command: with these undoubtedly I have still an opportunity of tormenting our enemies; but with such feeble means, I dare not hope to be ever able to force them to leave our provinces. All the n.o.bility would flock beneath our banners, if the King were in my camp."

"What do you say? Can you hope that the King would ever consent to repair hither?"

"No: but he must be forced to do so."

"Forced!"

"Yes! I know that an ancient friends.h.i.+p connects you with M. de P----: but since you have supported, along with Pulaski, the cause of liberty, you know also that you ought to sacrifice every thing to the good of your country; that an interest so sacred--------"

"I know my duty, and I am ready to fulfil it; but what is it that you now propose to me? The King never leaves Warsaw."

"True; and it is, therefore, at Warsaw that you must go and find him: it is from the heart of the capital that he must be forced."

"What preparations have you made for so great an enterprise?"