The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository Part 104

"Why not?"

"Because I have forfeited the right of deserving credit."

The Duke was silent, viewing the Count attentively. The latter resumed: "Besides, it is very indifferent to me what you think of the matter.

Hiermanfor may set you right."

"How far are you connected with Hiermanfor?"

"Very much like you. He has made himself my master, and I am subservient to him."

"Do you serve him with reluctance?"

"With devotion."

"Then you will know to whom you are devoted?"

"I don't know much more of him than your Grace."

"Even that little which you know of him would be remarkable to me, if authentic."

"I should tire your patience if I were to repeat to you all the improbable stories which are related of him. There are, however, very few credible accounts of him."

"I protest I should see glad to know them."

"Even the true family name of Hiermanfor is not known to me. He is said to have been born in Ireland, of plebeian parents. A near relation who professed astrology, had observed the stars on his birth, and prophesied great things of him. The same man persuaded his parents to give him a learned education, which they afterwards repented so much the less, when they perceived the astonishing progress in learning which he made. When he had attained the years of adolescence, his relation instructed him in mathematics and astronomy. The fame of Hiermanfor's great learning procured him the place of governor in a n.o.ble family. The eldest daughter fell in love with him, and the language of her eyes soon betrayed to him the impression he had made on her heart. She was a blooming beauty, who had attracted by her uncommon charms, and rejected many woers of high rank. It had been reserved for Hiermanfor to kindle in her heart the first spark of love, and yet he appeared insensible of his good fortune. But he was not. He entertained a high sense of the preference given to him: honesty and prudence commanded him, however, to conceal his sentiments for a person who was so far superior to him in point of rank. Yet youthful age is not always capable of maintaining the rigorous dictates of reason against the seducing voice of the pa.s.sions, and thus Hiermanfor betrayed, in an unguarded moment, the secret of his heart, which was received with rapture by the young lady, and carefully concealed in her bosom. But from that moment he resolved to endeavour to rise to a situation which would permit him to woo the hand of his mistress without blushing. This bold idea had no sooner taken place in the soul of the resolute youth, than he began to delineate a plan for the execution of it. Hiermanfor thought the naval service would be the shortest way of attaining a splendid fortune, and instantly navigation became the chief object of his study. He found very soon an opportunity of putting his acquired knowledge in practice, which he chiefly owed to the support of the family in which he had been tutor. The proofs of uncommon skill which he gave in naval matters, soon raised him to the rank of a captain, when his mistress died. Hiermanfor resigned his place in the navy, and was received as _lay brother_ in the order of the Carmelites. Having performed his vow he was sent to Rome, where he got acquainted with a priest of the same order, whose name was Father Gabriel, and who was famed for his great skill in physic and natural knowledge. Instructed by that learned man, he improved rapidly, and acquired at the same time great knowledge in natural magic, in which his relation had already instructed him.

"A genius like his could not, however, confine himself for a length of time to cloistered retirement and a speculative life. His superiors sent a mission to the Indies, and Hiermanfor got leave to make that journey with the missionaries. There he is said to have acquired among the Bramins the knowledge of the occult sciences, in the mysteries of which he has promised to initiate your Grace. I do not know what prompted him to leave the order afterwards. His superiors parting with him reluctantly, rendered it very difficult for him to procure dispensation from his vows. At length he got leave to retire, under the condition never to be inimical to the order.---This is all that I know of his life."

"Then every thing the Magistrate and the hermit have related of him is a fict.i.tion?" the Duke enquired after a short silence.

"Not at all!" the Count replied, "almost all those accounts are founded on facts, though they have been embellished by fict.i.tious episodes. The surprising feats of Hiermanfor, of which you have been informed, were however effected merely by means of natural magic."

"For instance, the delivery of the old King from the castle of St.

Lukar---how has it been effected?"

"It certainly has been performed by Hiermanfor's accuteness, though not through him alone."

"And the apparition of Antonio at the church-yard---"

"Has been effected by his supernatural power."

"Count! by all that is dear to you, by Hiermanfor's friendship, by our reconciliation, what is your real opinion of that apparition?"

"That it was affected by his supernatural power!"

The Duke rose and pressed the Count's hand. "Have you any secret wish which I could satisfy? speak freely, and I will satisfy it, cost it what it will, only make a frank and candid confession."

"I have confessed every thing already."

"If you, perhaps, hesitate to discover your real sentiments here, you may fix some other place, and I pledge my honour, that no man living shall be made acquainted with your secret."

"My dear Duke! I have indeed told you what I think."

"Count, I conjure you, by every thing sacred, by the horrors of eternity!" here the Duke encircled him with his arms, "by Amelia's spirit, tell we what do you think of that apparition?"

"I believe _that_ apparition to have been effected by Hiermanfor's supernatural power," replied the Count after a short silence.

The Duke stepped a few paces back, and having viewed him some time with a stern look, said, "You are my prisoner, do you know that I can send you to the dungeon?"

"I am in your power."

"Where you will not be entreated to speak the truth?"

"Even on the rack I shall not contradict what I have said."

"Come," said the Duke, after he had walked up and down the room in silent meditation; "Come, I will give you some time for consideration."---So saying, he led the Count into another room where he locked him up.

"What shall I do with that fellow?" he said to me when he returned to us, "believe what he has said and set him at liberty; or mistrust and retain him?"

"Retain him," my reply was: "if he sees that you are in earnest, he certainly will confess."

(To be continued.)

_DIGNITY OF MAN._

Strength and majesty belong to the man; grace and softness are the peculiar embellishments of the other s.e.x. In both, every part of their form declares their sovereignity over other creatures. Man supports his body erect; his att.i.tude is that of command; and his face, which is turned towards the heavens, displays the dignity of his station. The image of his soul is painted in his vissage; and the excellence of his nature penetrates through the material form in which it is inclosed. His majestic port, his sedate and resolute step, announce the n.o.bleness of his rank. He touches the earth only with his extremity, and beholds it as if at a disdainful distance. His arms are not given him, as to other creatures, for pillars of support; nor does he lose, by rendering them callous against the ground, that delicacy of touch which furnishes him with so many of his enjoyments.

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 206, and concluded.)

Pulaski, consumed with a black melancholy, exposes his life like a man to whom life had become insupportable, is always to be found at the most dangerous posts, and, towards the end of the fourth campaign, is mortally wounded by my side. Being carried to his tent, I instantly repair thither to console him.

"I find that my end approaches," says he, addressing himself to me. "Ah!

it is but too true, that I shall never see my native country again!

"Cruel, fantastical destiny! Pulaski falls a martyr to American liberty, and the Poles still continue slaves! . .