No. XXVIII.

May 21, 1798.

We have received the following letter, with the poem that accompanies it, from a gentleman whose political opinions have hitherto differed from our own; but who appears to feel, as every man who loves his country must, that there can be but one sentiment entertained by Englishmen at the present moment.

Were we at liberty, we should be happy to do justice to the author, and credit to ourselves, by mentioning his name.

Sir,—However men may have differed on the political or constitutional questions which have of late been brought into discussion—whatever opinions they may have held on the system or conduct of administration—there can surely be now but one sentiment as to the instant necessity of firm and strenuous union for the preservation of our very existence as a people; and if degrees of obligation could be admitted, where the utmost is required from all, it should seem that in this cause the opposers of administration stand doubly pledged; for with what face of consistency can men pretend to stickle for points of constitutional liberty at home, who will not be found amongst the foremost at their posts to defend their country from the yoke of foreign slavery?

That there should be any set of men so infatuated as not to be convinced that the object of the enemy mustbe the utter destruction of these countries, after making the largest allowance for the effects of prejudice and passion, it is not easy to conceive. Such, however, we are told, there are. They believe, then, that after a long series of outrage, insult, and injury, in the height of their animosity and presumption, these moderate, mild, disinterested conquerors will invade us in arms, out of pure love and kindness, merely for our good, only to make us wiser, and better, and happier, and more prosperous than before!

Future events lie hid in the volume of Fate, but the intentions of men may be known by almost infallible indications. Passion and interest, the two mighty motives of human action, determine the Government of France to attempt the abolition of the British Empire! and if, abandoned by God and our right arm, we should flinch in the conflict, that destruction will be operative to the full of their gigantic and monstrous imaginations!—Harbours filled up with the ruins of their towns and arsenals, the Thames rendered a vast morass, by burying the Imperial City in her bosom—but I will not proceed in the horrible picture.

Are we then, it may be asked, to wage eternal war?—No; a glorious resistance leads to an honourable peace. The French people have been long weary of the war; their spirit has been forced by a system which must end in the failure of the engagement to give them the plunder of this country. They will awake from their dream, and raise a cry for peace, which their government will not dare to resist. The monarchs of Europe must now begin clearly to perceive that their fate hangs on the destiny of England; they will unite to compel a satisfactorypeace on a broad foundation; and peace, when war has been tried to the utmost, will probably be permanent. A few years of wise economy and redoubled industry will place us again on the rising scale; and if the pressure of the times may have rendered it necessary sometimes to have cast a temporary veil over the statue of Liberty, she may again safely be shown in an unimpaired lustre.

Of the following verses I have nothing to say: if it should be decided that the greatness of the object cannot bear out the mediocrity of the execution, I will not appeal from the decision.

S. 1.Britons! hands and hearts prepare:The angry tempest threatens nigh,Deep-toned thunders roll in air,Lightnings thwart the livid sky;Throned upon the wingéd storm,FellDesolationrears her ghastly form,Waves her black signal to her Hell-born brood,And lures them thus with promised blood:A. 1.“Drive, my sons, the storm amain!Lo, the hated, envied land,WherePietyandOrderreign,And Freedom dares maintain her stand.Have ye not sworn, by night and hell,These from the earth for ever to expel?Rush on, resistless, to your destined prey,Death and rapine point the way.”E. 1.Britons! stand firm! with stout and dauntless heartMeet unappall’d the threatening boaster’s rage;Yours is the great, the unconquerable part,For your loved hearths and altars to engage,And sacredLiberty, more dear than life—Yours be the triumph in the glorious strife.Shall theft and murder braver deeds exciteThan honest scorn of shame and heavenly love of right?S. 2.Turn the bright historic page!Still in glory’s tented field,Albion’s arms, for many an age,Have taught proud Gallia’s bands to yield.Are not WE the sons of thoseWhose steel-clad sires pursued the insulting foes,E’en to the centre of their wide domain,And bowed them to aBriton’sreign?[259]A. 2.Kings, in modest triumph led,Graced thesable Victor’sarms:[260]His conquering lance, the battle’s dread;—His courtesy the conquered charms.The lion-heart soft pity knows,To raise with soothing cares his prostrate foes;The vanquished head true valour ne’er oppress’d,Nor shunn’d to succour the distress’d.E. 2.Spirit of greatElizabeth! inspireHigh thoughts, high deeds, worthy our ancient fame;Breathe through our ardent ranks the patriot fire,Kindled at Freedom’s ever-hallowed flame;Baffled and scorned, the Iberian tyrant found,Though half a world his iron sceptre bound,The gallant Amazon could sweep away,Armed with her people’s love, the “Invincible” array.[261]S. 3.TheBold Usurper[262]firmly heldThe sword by splendid treasons gained;And Gallia’s fiery genius quelled,And Spain’s presumptuous claims restrained:When lust of sway, by flattery fed,[263]To venturous deeds the youthful monarch led,In the full flow of victory’s swelling tideBritain checked his power and pride.A. 3.To the greatBatavian’sname[264]Ceaseless hymns of triumph raise!Scourge of tyrants, let his fameLive in songs of grateful praise.Thy turrets,Blenheim,[265]glittering to the sun,Tell of bright fields from warlike Gallia won;Tell how the mighty monarch mourned in vainHis impious wish the world to chain.E. 3.And ye famed heroes, late retired to heaven,Whose setting glories still the skies illume,Bend from the blissful seats to virtue given—Avert your long-defended country’s doom.Earth from her utmost bounds shall wondering tellHow victory’s meed ye gained, or conquering fell;Britain’s dread thunders bore from pole to pole,Wherever man is found, or refluent oceans roll.S. 4.Names embalmed in honour’s shrine,Sacred to immortal praise,Patterns of glory, born to shineIn breathing arts or pictured lays:SeeWolfe, by yielding numbers pressed,Expiring smile, and sink on victory’s breast!SeeMinden’splains andBiscay’sbillowy bayDeeds of deathless fame display.A. 4.O! tread with awe the sacred gloom,Patriot Virtue’s last retreat;Where Glory, on the trophied tomb,Joys their merit to repeat;ThereChathamlies, whose master-handGuided through seven bright years the mighty band,That round his urn, where grateful Memory weeps,Each in his hallowed marble sleeps.E. 4.Her brand accursed when civil discord hurled,[266]Britain alone the united world withstood,Rodneyhis fortune-favoured sails unfurled,And led three nation’s chiefs to Thames’s flood.Firm on his rock theVeteran Hero[267]stands;Beneath his feet unheeded thunders roar;Smiling in scorn, he sees the glittering bandsFly with repulse and shame oldCalpe’shopeless shore.S. 5.Heirs or partners of their toils,Matchless heroes still we own;Crowned with honourable spoilsFrom the leagued nations won.On their high prows they proudly stand,The godlike guardians of their native land;Lords of the mighty deep triumphant ride,Wealth and victory at their side.A. 5.Loyal, bold, and generous bands,Strenuous in their country’s cause,Guard their cultivated lands,Their altars, liberties, and laws.On his firm, deep-founded throne,GreatBrunswicksits—a name to fear unknown,With brow erect commands the glorious strife,Unawed, and prodigal of life.E. 5.Sons of fair Freedom’s long-descended line,To Gallia’s yoke shall Britons bend the neck?—No; in her cause though fate and hell combineTo bury all in universal wreck,Of this fair Isle to make one dreary waste,Her greatness in her ruins only traced,—Arts, commerce, arms, sunk in one common grave—The man who dares to die will never live a slave.

S. 1.

Britons! hands and hearts prepare:The angry tempest threatens nigh,Deep-toned thunders roll in air,Lightnings thwart the livid sky;Throned upon the wingéd storm,FellDesolationrears her ghastly form,Waves her black signal to her Hell-born brood,And lures them thus with promised blood:

Britons! hands and hearts prepare:

The angry tempest threatens nigh,

Deep-toned thunders roll in air,

Lightnings thwart the livid sky;

Throned upon the wingéd storm,

FellDesolationrears her ghastly form,

Waves her black signal to her Hell-born brood,

And lures them thus with promised blood:

A. 1.

“Drive, my sons, the storm amain!Lo, the hated, envied land,WherePietyandOrderreign,And Freedom dares maintain her stand.Have ye not sworn, by night and hell,These from the earth for ever to expel?Rush on, resistless, to your destined prey,Death and rapine point the way.”

“Drive, my sons, the storm amain!

Lo, the hated, envied land,

WherePietyandOrderreign,

And Freedom dares maintain her stand.

Have ye not sworn, by night and hell,

These from the earth for ever to expel?

Rush on, resistless, to your destined prey,

Death and rapine point the way.”

E. 1.

Britons! stand firm! with stout and dauntless heartMeet unappall’d the threatening boaster’s rage;Yours is the great, the unconquerable part,For your loved hearths and altars to engage,And sacredLiberty, more dear than life—Yours be the triumph in the glorious strife.Shall theft and murder braver deeds exciteThan honest scorn of shame and heavenly love of right?

Britons! stand firm! with stout and dauntless heart

Meet unappall’d the threatening boaster’s rage;

Yours is the great, the unconquerable part,

For your loved hearths and altars to engage,

And sacredLiberty, more dear than life—

Yours be the triumph in the glorious strife.

Shall theft and murder braver deeds excite

Than honest scorn of shame and heavenly love of right?

S. 2.

Turn the bright historic page!Still in glory’s tented field,Albion’s arms, for many an age,Have taught proud Gallia’s bands to yield.Are not WE the sons of thoseWhose steel-clad sires pursued the insulting foes,E’en to the centre of their wide domain,And bowed them to aBriton’sreign?[259]

Turn the bright historic page!

Still in glory’s tented field,

Albion’s arms, for many an age,

Have taught proud Gallia’s bands to yield.

Are not WE the sons of those

Whose steel-clad sires pursued the insulting foes,

E’en to the centre of their wide domain,

And bowed them to aBriton’sreign?[259]

A. 2.

Kings, in modest triumph led,Graced thesable Victor’sarms:[260]His conquering lance, the battle’s dread;—His courtesy the conquered charms.The lion-heart soft pity knows,To raise with soothing cares his prostrate foes;The vanquished head true valour ne’er oppress’d,Nor shunn’d to succour the distress’d.

Kings, in modest triumph led,

Graced thesable Victor’sarms:[260]

His conquering lance, the battle’s dread;—

His courtesy the conquered charms.

The lion-heart soft pity knows,

To raise with soothing cares his prostrate foes;

The vanquished head true valour ne’er oppress’d,

Nor shunn’d to succour the distress’d.

E. 2.

Spirit of greatElizabeth! inspireHigh thoughts, high deeds, worthy our ancient fame;Breathe through our ardent ranks the patriot fire,Kindled at Freedom’s ever-hallowed flame;Baffled and scorned, the Iberian tyrant found,Though half a world his iron sceptre bound,The gallant Amazon could sweep away,Armed with her people’s love, the “Invincible” array.[261]

Spirit of greatElizabeth! inspire

High thoughts, high deeds, worthy our ancient fame;

Breathe through our ardent ranks the patriot fire,

Kindled at Freedom’s ever-hallowed flame;

Baffled and scorned, the Iberian tyrant found,

Though half a world his iron sceptre bound,

The gallant Amazon could sweep away,

Armed with her people’s love, the “Invincible” array.[261]

S. 3.

TheBold Usurper[262]firmly heldThe sword by splendid treasons gained;And Gallia’s fiery genius quelled,And Spain’s presumptuous claims restrained:When lust of sway, by flattery fed,[263]To venturous deeds the youthful monarch led,In the full flow of victory’s swelling tideBritain checked his power and pride.

TheBold Usurper[262]firmly held

The sword by splendid treasons gained;

And Gallia’s fiery genius quelled,

And Spain’s presumptuous claims restrained:

When lust of sway, by flattery fed,[263]

To venturous deeds the youthful monarch led,

In the full flow of victory’s swelling tide

Britain checked his power and pride.

A. 3.

To the greatBatavian’sname[264]Ceaseless hymns of triumph raise!Scourge of tyrants, let his fameLive in songs of grateful praise.Thy turrets,Blenheim,[265]glittering to the sun,Tell of bright fields from warlike Gallia won;Tell how the mighty monarch mourned in vainHis impious wish the world to chain.

To the greatBatavian’sname[264]

Ceaseless hymns of triumph raise!

Scourge of tyrants, let his fame

Live in songs of grateful praise.

Thy turrets,Blenheim,[265]glittering to the sun,

Tell of bright fields from warlike Gallia won;

Tell how the mighty monarch mourned in vain

His impious wish the world to chain.

E. 3.

And ye famed heroes, late retired to heaven,Whose setting glories still the skies illume,Bend from the blissful seats to virtue given—Avert your long-defended country’s doom.Earth from her utmost bounds shall wondering tellHow victory’s meed ye gained, or conquering fell;Britain’s dread thunders bore from pole to pole,Wherever man is found, or refluent oceans roll.

And ye famed heroes, late retired to heaven,

Whose setting glories still the skies illume,

Bend from the blissful seats to virtue given—

Avert your long-defended country’s doom.

Earth from her utmost bounds shall wondering tell

How victory’s meed ye gained, or conquering fell;

Britain’s dread thunders bore from pole to pole,

Wherever man is found, or refluent oceans roll.

S. 4.

Names embalmed in honour’s shrine,Sacred to immortal praise,Patterns of glory, born to shineIn breathing arts or pictured lays:SeeWolfe, by yielding numbers pressed,Expiring smile, and sink on victory’s breast!SeeMinden’splains andBiscay’sbillowy bayDeeds of deathless fame display.

Names embalmed in honour’s shrine,

Sacred to immortal praise,

Patterns of glory, born to shine

In breathing arts or pictured lays:

SeeWolfe, by yielding numbers pressed,

Expiring smile, and sink on victory’s breast!

SeeMinden’splains andBiscay’sbillowy bay

Deeds of deathless fame display.

A. 4.

O! tread with awe the sacred gloom,Patriot Virtue’s last retreat;Where Glory, on the trophied tomb,Joys their merit to repeat;ThereChathamlies, whose master-handGuided through seven bright years the mighty band,That round his urn, where grateful Memory weeps,Each in his hallowed marble sleeps.

O! tread with awe the sacred gloom,

Patriot Virtue’s last retreat;

Where Glory, on the trophied tomb,

Joys their merit to repeat;

ThereChathamlies, whose master-hand

Guided through seven bright years the mighty band,

That round his urn, where grateful Memory weeps,

Each in his hallowed marble sleeps.

E. 4.

Her brand accursed when civil discord hurled,[266]Britain alone the united world withstood,Rodneyhis fortune-favoured sails unfurled,And led three nation’s chiefs to Thames’s flood.Firm on his rock theVeteran Hero[267]stands;Beneath his feet unheeded thunders roar;Smiling in scorn, he sees the glittering bandsFly with repulse and shame oldCalpe’shopeless shore.

Her brand accursed when civil discord hurled,[266]

Britain alone the united world withstood,

Rodneyhis fortune-favoured sails unfurled,

And led three nation’s chiefs to Thames’s flood.

Firm on his rock theVeteran Hero[267]stands;

Beneath his feet unheeded thunders roar;

Smiling in scorn, he sees the glittering bands

Fly with repulse and shame oldCalpe’shopeless shore.

S. 5.

Heirs or partners of their toils,Matchless heroes still we own;Crowned with honourable spoilsFrom the leagued nations won.On their high prows they proudly stand,The godlike guardians of their native land;Lords of the mighty deep triumphant ride,Wealth and victory at their side.

Heirs or partners of their toils,

Matchless heroes still we own;

Crowned with honourable spoils

From the leagued nations won.

On their high prows they proudly stand,

The godlike guardians of their native land;

Lords of the mighty deep triumphant ride,

Wealth and victory at their side.

A. 5.

Loyal, bold, and generous bands,Strenuous in their country’s cause,Guard their cultivated lands,Their altars, liberties, and laws.On his firm, deep-founded throne,GreatBrunswicksits—a name to fear unknown,With brow erect commands the glorious strife,Unawed, and prodigal of life.

Loyal, bold, and generous bands,

Strenuous in their country’s cause,

Guard their cultivated lands,

Their altars, liberties, and laws.

On his firm, deep-founded throne,

GreatBrunswicksits—a name to fear unknown,

With brow erect commands the glorious strife,

Unawed, and prodigal of life.

E. 5.

Sons of fair Freedom’s long-descended line,To Gallia’s yoke shall Britons bend the neck?—No; in her cause though fate and hell combineTo bury all in universal wreck,Of this fair Isle to make one dreary waste,Her greatness in her ruins only traced,—Arts, commerce, arms, sunk in one common grave—The man who dares to die will never live a slave.

Sons of fair Freedom’s long-descended line,

To Gallia’s yoke shall Britons bend the neck?—

No; in her cause though fate and hell combine

To bury all in universal wreck,

Of this fair Isle to make one dreary waste,

Her greatness in her ruins only traced,—

Arts, commerce, arms, sunk in one common grave—

The man who dares to die will never live a slave.

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