FOUR VOLUMES IN TWO. VOL. I. The time of life is short; To spend that shortness basely, were too long, Still ending at the arrival of an hour. BY MISS PORTER. SHAKSPEARE. FLATBUSH, (N. Y. ) Printed and Published by I. Riley, and for sale by Robert THADDEUS OF WARSAW. CHAPTER I. THE large and magnificent palace of Villanow, which stands on the northern bank of the Vistula, was the favourite residence of John Sobieski, king of Poland. That monarch, after having delivered his country from innumerable enemies, rescued Vienna, and subdued the Turks, used to retire to this place at certain seasons, and dispense those effects of his luminous and benevolent mind, which rendered his name great and his people happy. When Charles the twelfth of Sweden visited the tomb of Sobieski, at Moscow, he exclaimed, “ What a pity, that so great a man should ever die!" Ninety years after his death, the spirit of this great man appeared to revive in the person of his descendant, Con stantine Count Sobieski, who, in a comparatively private station, as palatine of Masovia, and the friend, rather than the lord, of his vassals, evinced by his actions, that he was the inheritor of his forefather's vir 'tue, as well as of his blood. He was the first Polish nobleman, who granted freedom to his peasants. He threw down their mud hovels, and built comfortable villages. He furnished them with seed, cattle, and implements of husbandry; then calling them all together, he laid before them the deed of their enfranchisement. Before he signed it, he expressed his fears to some of their old men, of the probability that they might abuse this new liberty, and become licentious. "No," returned a grey-headed peasant, "when we held a firm grasp of no other property than the staffs which we have in our hands, we were destitute of all motive for a consistent conduct; and not having any thing to lose, acted on all occasions in an intemperate manner; but now that our houses and lands, and our cattle, are absolutely our own, the fear of forfeiting them, will be a constant restraint upon our actions." The good sense and truth of this answer were manifested in the event. On their emancipation, they became so cheerful in their circumstances, and so cor rect in their behaviour, that the example of the Palatine was shortly followed by Zamoiski the great chancellor; prince Stanislaus, the king's nephew; and several of the principal nobility. Thus, within the bosom of his family, did this illustrious man educate Thaddeus, the only male heir of his name, to the exercise of every peaceful virtue, until the beginning of the year 1792, when war began to threaten the tranquillity of a country, which smiled with content and gratitude. On the evening of an anniversary of the birth day of his grandson, the palatine rode abroad with Zamoiski, and several others of a party, which had been celebrating the festival with its presence. The countess and Thaddeus were left alone in the saloon. She sighed as she gazed on her son, who stood at some distance, fitting to his youthful thigh a variety of sabres, which his servant a little time before had laid upon the table. She observed with anxiety, the eagerness of his motion, his flushed cheek, and the ardour that was flashing from his eyes. “Thaddeus,” said she, “lay down that sword; I wish to speak with you." Thaddeus looked gaily up. "My Thaddeus," cried his mother, and the tears started to her eyes. The blush of enthusiasm faded from his face; he threw the sabre from him, and drew near the countess. "Why," my dear mother, "do you distress yourself? When I am in battle, shall I not experience my grandfather's care; and be as much under the protec tion of God, as at this moment?" "Yes, my child," answered she, wiping her wet cheek, "God will protect you. He is the protector of the orphan, and you are fatherless." The countess paused, and the heart of Thaddeus drooped. "Here, my son," said she, giving him a sealed packet, "take this: it will reveal to you who was your father. It is necessary that you should know the truth, and all the goodness of your grandfather." Thaddeus received it and stood silent with surprise. "Read it, my love," continued she, "but go to your own apartments; there you will be more retired.” Bewildered by the manner of the countess, Thad-deus instantly obeyed. Shutting himself within his study, he impatiently opened the papers; and soon found his whole attention absorbed in the following recital: "You are now, my Thaddeus! at the early age of eighteen, going to engage against the enemies of your country. Ere I resign my greatest comfort to the casualties of war; ere I part with you, perhaps for ever, I would inform you who your father really was; that father, whose existence you have hardly known, and whose naine you have never heard. You consider yourself an orphan; your mother a widow; but, alas, I have now to tell you, that you are fatherless |