The great rule of sensual pleasures is to use them so as they may not
destroy themselves, or be divorced from the pleasures of sentiment; but
rather as they are assisted by, and mutually assisting to, the more
refined and exalted sympathy of rational enjoyment.
Men ever refine the meaning of the word pleasure to what pleases
themselves: gluttons imagine, that by pleasure is meant gluttony. The
only true epicures are such as enjoy the pleasures of temperance. Small
pleasures seem great to such as know no greater. The virtuous man is he
who has sense enough to enjoy the greatest pleasure.
Superfluity and parade among the vulgar-rich pass for elegance and
greatness. To the man of true taste, temperance is luxury, and
simplicity grandeur.
Whatever pleasures are immediately derived from the senses, persons of
fine internal feelings enjoy besides their other pleasures; while such
as place their chief happiness in the former, can have no true taste for
the delicious sensations of the soul.
They who divide profit and honesty, mistake the nature of the one or the
other. We must make a difference between appearances and truths: the
really profitable and the good are the same.
False appearances of profit are the greatest enemies to true interest.
Future sorrows present themselves in the disguise of present pleasures,
and short-sighted folly eagerly embraces the deceit.
* * * * *
* * * *
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 115.)
We soon arrived at the ditch of the castle; the servants of Dourlinski
demanded who we were; I answered that we were come from Pulaski, and
wished to speak to their lord, and that we had been attacked by robbers,
who were still in pursuit of us. The drawbridge was accordingly let
down; and having entered, we were informed that at present we could not
see Dourlinski, but that on the next day at ten o’clock he would give us
audience. They then demanded our arms, which we delivered up without any
difficulty, and Boleslas soon after took an opportunity of looking at my
wound, which was found to be but superficial.
In a short time a frugal repast was served up for us in the kitchen. We
were afterwards conducted to a lower chamber, where two beds were
prepared for us. The domestics then left us without any light, and
immediately locked the door of the apartment.
I could not close my eyes during the whole night. Titsikan had given me
but a slight wound, but that which my heart had received was so very
deep! At day break, I became impatient in my prison, and wished to open
the shutters, but they were nailed up. I attacked them, however, so
vigorously, that the fastenings gave way, and I beheld a very fine park.
The window being low, I cleared it at a leap, and in a single instant
found myself in the gardens of the Polish chieftain.
After having walked about for a few minutes, I sat down on a stone
bench, which was placed at the foot of a tower, whose ancient
architecture I had been some time considering. I remained for a few
seconds enveloped in reflection, when a tile fell at my feet. I thought
that it had dropped from the roof of this old building; and, to avoid
the effects of a similar accident, I went and placed myself at the other
end of the seat. A few moments after, a second tile fell by my side. The
circumstance appeared surprising: I arose with some degree of
inquietude, and attentively examined the tower. I perceived at about
twenty-five or thirty feet from the ground, a narrow opening. On this I
picked up the tiles which had been thrown at me, and on the first I
discovered the following words, written with a bit of plaister;
“+LOVZINSKI, is it you! Do you still live!+”
And on the second these:
“+Deliver me! save Lodoiska.+”
It is impossible to conceive how many different sentiments occupied my
mind at one and the same time: my astonishment, my joy, my grief, my
embarrassment, cannot be expressed. I examined once more the prison of
Lodoiska, and plotted in my own mind how I could procure her liberty.
She at length threw down another tile, and I read as follows:
“At midnight, bring me paper, ink, and pens; and to-morrow, an hour
after sun-rise, come and receive a letter.--------Begone.”--
Having returned towards my chamber, I called to Boleslas, who assisted
me in re-entering through the window. I then informed my faithful
servant, of the unexpected accident that had put an end to my
wanderings, and redoubled my inquietude.
How could I penetrate into this tower? How could we procure arms? By
what means were we to deliver Lodoiska from captivity! How could we
carry her off under the eye of Dourlinski, in the midst of his people,
from a fortified castle? and supposing that so many obstacles were not
unsurmountable, could I attempt such an enterprize during the short
delay prescribed by Titsikan?
Did not the Tartar enjoin me to stay with Dourlinski three days, but not
to remain longer than eight?
Would it not be to expose ourselves to the attacks of the enemy, to
leave this castle before the third, or after the expiration of the
eighth day? Should I release my dear Lodoiska from a prison, on purpose
to deliver her into the hands of robbers, to be forever separated from
her either by slavery or death? This would be a horrible idea!
But wherefore was she confined in such a frightful prison? The letter
which she had promised would doubtless instruct me: It was therefore
necessary to procure paper, pen and ink. I accordingly charged Boleslas
with this employment, and began to prepare myself for acting the
delicate part of an emissary of Pulaski in the presence of Dourlinski.
It was broad day-light when they came to set us at liberty, and inform
us, that Dourlinski was at leisure and wished to see us. We accordingly
presented ourselves before him with great confidence; and we were
introduced to a man of about sixty years of age, whose reception was
blunt, and whose manners were repulsive. He demanded who we were. “My
brother and myself,” replied I, “belong to Count Pulaski. My master has
entrusted me with a secret commission to you. My brother accompanies me
on another account. Before I explain, I must be in private, for I am
charged not to speak but to you alone.”
“It is very well,” replies Dourlinski: “your brother may retire, and you
also,” addressing himself to his servants; “begone! As to him (pointing
to a person who was his confident), he must remain, and you may speak
any thing before him.”
“Pulaski has sent me.”--------“I see very well that he has sent you,”
says the palatine, interrupting me----“to demand of you--”
“What?”--------“news of his daughter.”--“News of his daughter! Did
Pulaski say so?”--------“Yes my lord, he said that his daughter was
here.”---I perceived that Dourlinski instantly grew pale; he then looked
towards his confident, and surveyed me for some time in silence.
“You astonish me,” rejoins he at length. “In confiding a secret of this
importance to you, it necessarily follows that your master must have
been very imprudent.”
“No more than you, my lord, for have not you also a confident? Grandees
would be much to be pitied if they could not rely upon any of their
domestics. Pulaski has charged me to inform you, that Lovsinski has
already searched through a great part of Poland, and that he will
undoubtedly visit these cantons.”
“If he dares to come here,” replies he with great vivacity, “I will
provide a lodging for him, which he shall inhabit for some time. Do you
know this Lovsinski?”
“I have seen him at my master’s house in Warsaw.”--“They say he is
handsome?”
“He is well made, and about my size.”
“His person?---is prepossessing; it is--------”
“He is a wretch,” adds he, interrupting me in a great passion------“O
that he were but to fall into my hands!”
“My lord, they say that he is brave---”
“He! I will wager any sum of money that he is only calculated to seduce
women!---O that he would but fall into my hands!” Then, assuming a less
ferocious tone, he continued thus. “It is a long time since Pulaski
wrote to me---where is he at present?”
“My lord, I have precise orders not to answer that question: all that I
dare to say is, that he has the strongest reasons for neither
discovering the place of his retreat, nor writing to any person, and
that he will soon come and explain them to you in person.”
Dourlinski appeared exceedingly astonished at this information; I could
discover some symptoms of fear in his countenance. At length, looking at
his confident, who seemed equally embarrassed with himself, he
proceeded: “You say that Pulaski will come here soon?”---“Yes, my lord,
in about a fortnight, or a little later.” On this he again turned to his
attendant; but in a short time affecting as much calmness as he had
before discovered embarrassment; “Return to your master,” added he;
“I am sorry to have nothing but bad news to communicate to
him--------tell him that Lodoiska is no longer here.” I myself became
surprised in my turn at this information. “What! my lord,
Lodoiska--------”
“Is not longer here, I tell you!--------To oblige Pulaski, whom I
esteem, I undertook, although with great repugnance, the talk of
confining his daughter in my castle: nobody but myself and he (pointing
to his confident) knew that she was here. It is about a month since we
went, as usual, to carry her provisions for the day, but there was
nobody in the apartment. I am ignorant how it happened; but what I know
well is, that she has escaped, for I have heard nothing of her
since.---She must undoubtedly have gone to join Lovsinski at Warsaw, if
perchance the Tartars have not intercepted her in her journey.”
My astonishment on this became extreme. How could I reconcile that which
I had seen in the garden, with that which Dourlinski now told me? There
was some mystery in this business, which I became exceedingly impatient
to be acquainted with: I was however extremely careful not to exhibit
any appearance of doubt. “My lord,” said I, “this is bad news for my
master!”--------“Undoubtedly, but it is not my fault.”
“My lord, I have a favour to ask of you.”
“Let me hear it.”------“The Tartars are ravaging the neighbourhood of
your castle--they attacked us------we escaped as it were by a miracle.
Will you permit my brother and myself to remain here only for the space
of two days?”
“For two days only I give my consent.”
“Where do they lodge?” says he to his attendant. “In an apartment below
ground,” was the reply.
“Which overlooks my gardens?” rejoins Dourlinski, interrupting him with
great agitation.
“The shutters are well fastened,” adds the other.
“No matter--------You must put them elsewhere.” These words made me
tremble.
“It is not possible, but,”------continues the confident, and then
whispered the rest of the sentence in his ear.
“Right,” says the Baron; “and let it be done instantly.” Then,
addressing himself to me, “know that your brother and you must depart
the day after to-morrow: before you go, you shall see me again, and I
will give you a letter for Pulaski.”
I then went to rejoin Boleslas in the kitchen, where he was at
breakfast, who soon after presented me with a little bottle full of ink,
several pens, and some sheets of paper, which he had procured without
difficulty. I panted with desire to write to Lodoiska; and the only
difficulty that now remained, was to find a commodious place where I
might not be discovered by the curiosity of Dourlinski’s people.
They had already informed Boleslas that we could not again be admitted
into the apartment where we had spent the preceding night, until the
time should arrive when we were to retire to rest. I soon, however,
bethought myself of a stratagem which succeeded to admiration.
The servants were drinking with my pretended brother, and politely
invited me to help them to empty a few flasks.
I swallowed, with a good grace, several glasses of bad wine in
succession: in a few minutes my legs seemed to totter, my tongue
faltered: I related a hundred pleasant and improbable tales to the
joyous company; in a word, I acted the _drunken man_ so well, that
Boleslas himself became a dupe to my scheme, and actually trembled lest,
in a moment when I seemed disposed to communicate every thing, my secret
should escape.
(_To be continued._)
* * * * *
* * * *
_For the +New-York Weekly Magazine+._
* * *