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So, come along, no more we'll part:"
THOUGHTS ON THE FRENCH INVASION.
From a Charge of the BMop of Llandnff to the Ciery of his
"Britons! relax the ties of love,—of home;
At no period, since I have been your diocesan, have I interfered with your political opinions, or shown the least anxiety of any particular party in the state. Had I followed a contrary conduct, I should have acted in a manner unbecoming the nature of my office, ill-suited to the character I wish to maintain, and disrespectful to yourselves. I have, unquestionably, my political principles, as well as other men have theirs; and, how unfashionable soever they may have become, I have never scrupled, and never shall scruple, to confess that those on which the revolution was founded, and the present reigning family seated on the throne of these kingdoms, are, in my judgment, principles best calculated to protect the liberty and property of the subject, and to secure the honour and happiness of the sovereign.
You will not, I think, be guilty of a breach of Christian charity, in the use of even harsh language, when you explain to your flock the cruelties which the French have used in every country they have invaded; for no language can reach the atrocity of the fact. They every where promise protection to the poorer sort, and they every Where strip the poorest of every thing they possess; they plunder their cottages, and they set them on fire when the plunder is exhausted; they torture the owners to discover their wealth, and they put them to death when they have none to discover; they violate females of all ages; they insult the hoary head, and trample on all the decencies of life. This is no exaggerated picture: whoever has read the account of the proceedings of the French in Suabia, in Holland, in Italy, in Switzerland, know that it is not.—And can there be men in Great Britain of so base a temper, so maddened by malignity, so cankered by envy, so besotted by folly, so stupified as to their own safety, as to abet the designs of such an enemy? It is said there are such men; but I have too firm a confidence in the general good sense of the people of Great Britain, to believe that such men are either many in number, or respectable for character, or formidable for connection. The men of this principality, (Wales), at least, have nobly shown, in a late instance, that they inherit the spirit of their ancestors, and have too ardent a love of their country to submit to a foreign yoke, under whatever specious promises, of supporting the rights of men, of introducing liberty and equality, the invaders may attempt to deceive them.
What are these-rights of men, this liberty, this equality, of which every man has heard so much, and of which few have any proper conception ?—Let us see What they are in France itself.—There no man has any right in his person, or in his property, both are absolutely at the disposal of the few persons who have usurped the government.—There no man has any liberty, except the liberty of submitting to the worst o£ slavery; for what slavery can be worse than that of being subject to laws which are perpetually changed,, according to the caprice of the ruling faction?—Ubijut incertum, ibijus nu/lum.
Are the French coming hither to enrich the nation? Will they pay attention to the poor of this country, when they have so many thousands of infinitely poorer persons in their own ?—Will they reward their seditious adherents amongst us ?—Yes, they will reward them, as all history informs us such traitors have ever been rewarded—they will reward them with contempt, pillage, beggary, slavery, and death. The nation will be ruined by exorbitant impositions,—our naval power will be destroyed,—our commerce transferred to France,—our lands will be divided, not amongst those who wickedly covet their neighbours goods, but amongst French soldiers, who will be every where stationed, as the Roman soldiers were of old, to awe the people, and collect the taxes,—the flower ef our youth will he compelled to serve in foreign countries, to promote the wicked projects of French ambition,—Great Britain will be made an appendage to continental despotism.
I would say to the most violent democrat in the kingdom—suppose the business done, after seas of blood have been shed, millions of lives lost, towns plundered, villages burned, the royal family exterminated, and unutterable calamity has been endured by persons of all, ranks;—after all this has been done, what advantages •will you have obtained beyond what you now possess? Will your property be better protected? Will your personal liberty be more respected? Will your code of jurisprudence be improved? Will our laws be more impartially administered? Quite the contrary of all this now takes place in France. I do not say that when things are settled there, the present wretched condition of its inhabitants will be continued, and I hoce it will not; but I am sincerely of opinion, that few of us will live to see such a system established in France, as will procure to its inhabitants half the .blessings which our ancestors have enjoyed, which we do enjoy, and which it is our interest to take care that our posterity shall enjoy under the constitution of Great Britain.
To the above sound reasoning of the celebrated Prelate, on the subject of Invasion, we will subjoin the folio icing animated description of an unknown writer* on the same mb/ect. Strong' at it may appear to tome, it is, we are persuaded, but- a faint representation of our fiite in the event of. our conquest by litpublican France.
.... If they gain this promised land, this Canaan of their wishes, will they leave us honey to our milk, or an oaten cake, that is not steeped in the gall of our own bitterness? It is not only the sumptuous palaces of our nobility and opulent gentry, venerable by time, and the honourable fortunes by which, they were raised; it is not only those ancient forests, our country's pride, trees, indeed, of genuine true born liberty, that will be wrested from them and their posterity; but the accursed spoil
The author of Alfred's Letters.
ere, infamously minute, will pluck from us all that the heart or memory holds most dear, the mourning miniature of departed love from the breast, or the bracelet, sacred to nuptial fidelity, from the arm. The rich man's silver cistern, deep with generous wine, and the poor man's humble pitcher from the limpid spring;— the golden goblet and the maple cup, shall share an equal fate. Buildings, whether of the doric, ionic, or corinthian order, or of no order at all, shall be laid low.
Fire and faggot shall be applied to all alike; blood and thunder shall prevail every where, clamorque virum, clangorque tubarum, "and the shout of warriors, and the hoarse shrilly braying of trumpets!" Oh, if allowed, they will shear us to the very quick; from the common paper currency to the meanest family trinket; the infant whistle, that our pious forefathers have blown, the coral they have used, or the bell that they have jingled for ten generations past; and grubbing up every thing from your little garden and mine, leave us not a tingle seeping 'Jiillow to plant in its disconsolate place.
Here I could wish to check my pen, but truth commands me to proceed. In the midst of this scene of desolation, where is your wife, your sister, or your daughter? almost breathless, perhaps, through apprehension, on the earth; in the ferocious fangs of a violating soldier of liberty, or a petrified image of monumental horror for the hand of at the beastly and
the bloody scenes which are acting round. The distracted father calls aloud for his son, to protect the honour of his family; but his son, alas! is bound—imprisoned—slain, nay basely butchered before his astonished eyes! What do these refiners, these architects of