which seems to manifest that the generality of the former instrument, as descriptive of the emperor's design, had not passed unnoticed. Why then was it not altered: unless for the sake of intimating to zealous Catholics, that the ulterior purpose was wider than the immediate practice? But the allusion to that persecuting bigot, Louis IVth, and the emphatic words that follow, seem to mark the same intention more clearly..

Whether this construction be admitted or not, the immediate practical moderation of a government, which in the nineteenth century, so anxiously inculcates submission to the church of Rome as essential to salvation, and openly brands as heretics all who deny its infallibility, is certainly very suspicious. Napoleon, it is true, for the present, tolerates the reformed religion in Holland, and even in France; but did not Charles the fifth do the same in Germany, till he was able conveniently to throw off the mask? Nay, did not Louis the fourteenth, profess himself the protector of the Protestant states of that country, when it suited the views of his ambition? Let us look forward then to a state of things, alas! too nearly accomplished, when Europe will have no more power of resistance to this imperious man. Let us suppose him master of England, as well as of the continent; and ask ourselves what will then be the barrier of religious freedom, in this once fortunate island.

He has found the utility of that alliance between the throne and the altar, against which, in common with his Jacobin friends, he once so loudly inveighed. But to what altar will he look for sup port? Not surely to one on which he cannot sacrifice, and the votaries of which will never repair to his own. He will, on the contrary, feel, like most of his predecessors in the career of conquest, that an opposition in faith may one day lead to a dismemberment of empire; and that unity in church-government, is a necessary buttress to the stupendous fabrick of usurpation which he has raised. Such a unity can only be found, in restoring the universal supremacy of the see of Rome; and to him, the measure would be more inviting by far than it ever was to any former son of the church, however powerful; since he can have no fear that the holy father will ever dare to oppose his will. The keys of heaven on the contrary, will be turned at his command; and enable him to secure with a triple bolt the fetters that his arms have imposed. Without arrogating to himself that divine legation as a teacher, which he already impiously assumes as a subverter of thrones, he might add like the Caliphs, the power of a spiritual, to that of his temporal empire.

We may add to these considerations, that Buonaparte, in preserving the religious liberties of Great Britain, would have to maintain, not only a Protestant Episcopal church, but the Presbyterian establishment of Scotland, the constitution of which would present to him the alarming image of popular and representative government; and also to tolerate those numerous sects of dissenters, whose interior organization and discipline, wear still more of a democratical aspect: nor would his alarm be lessened, by the discovery that our Protestant dissenters have at all times been determined enemies to arbitrary power.

Happily indeed, this has long ceased to be a distinction between Englishmen; and since a well defined freedom has limited the prerogative of our kings, the throne has not had more faithful supporters, than have been found among dissenters from the established church. In hatred to a foreign yoke, Britons of all religious denominations would be equally ardent; but the tyrant might find in our civil history, and in the political prejudices against sectaries, which still linger among us, as well as in the habits of some very popular religious societies, peculiar grounds of distrust.

His dread of such sectarian associations however, would not be fatal to dissenters alone. If unwilling to preserve our present, system of toleration to its full extent, the sure alternative would be the requiring an entire uniformity of faith and discipline. In him, as a Papist, it would be the only consistent course; and besides, were the work of persecution once begun, resistance would soon push him into extremes against all who presumed to lay claim to liberty of conscience. The line of demarcation would not easily be drawn, between this, and that, heretical communion.

Buonaparte, it may further be added, would probably be led by his temper, as well as his policy, to put down all religious dissent from the creed which he deigns to profess. His imperious pride, and insatiable appetite for domination, would after the conquest of England, soon find no change of the high-flavoured food to which they have been used, but in subduing the consciences of mankind.

The religious then, of every denomination among us have peculiar cause to tremble at the idea of our becoming a province of France. The terrible scenes which were exhibited there upon the revocation of the edict of Nantz, might soon be reacted in England. Dungeons and tortures might be employed to subdue the courage of the, faithful, and the reverend bishops and pastors of our church, again be led out to a fiery trial in Smithfield.

G

Sect. 11. Dreadful corruption of morals.

If there be men, who without any concern for religion, are really anxious about the interests of virtue, let them also, shudder at this prospect.

The utter dissolution of morals in France, is a fact too fully attested to be disbelieved, even by those who do not perceive in it a necessary consequence of general and open infidelity. Vice, in her most licentious forms, abound especially amongst the French military, who would of course be our principal guests. How indeed could it be otherwise, among officers and soldiers educated like those who now serve in the armies of France?

Sixteen or seventeen years have now elapsed since the foundations of religion and morality were wholly broken up in that country; and but a very small part of its soldiers, can count twice as many years from their cradle; while a vast majority of them, are too young to remember any other than the present licentious times. Their ethics can have been acquired only in the Jacobin schools; or in the camp. As pupils of experience also, their lessons have been of the worst sort. They have seen nothing but the crimes and disorders of revolution at home; nothing but scenes of blood and rapacity abroad.

Truly frightful is the thought, of having such men spread over every district of our yet happy island, and executing among us all the functions of an interior police: yet such would certainly be our lot. They would not only keep guard in our cities, but be quartered in our country towns and villages, where few decent houses would escape the pollution of a private soldier or two, as its constant billetted guests; except perhaps the mansions of the village squires, or the chief inhabitants of the towns, which might have the honour of receiving the officers.

The latter, would of course enter into every circle of public and private society, and give the lead wherever they appeared; not only by the means of wealth and splendour, of which they would be the chief or sole possessors, and by the natural confidence of their characters; but by the aid of that timid and servile deference which the terror of their power would inspire. Much would be to be dreaded from the direct effects of their libertinism; bnt still more from their pestilent example. We should soon become as vicious as themselves; or rather more so. Like the poor enslaved Africans in our colonies, we should imitate the immoralities of our masters, and add to them the vices of servility.

It would soon be in vain to search for those modest and lovely young women, who now captivate our youth; for those virtuous matrons, who are the blessings of our manhood and our age; or for those moral feelings in either sex, which are the guards of domestic honour, purity and happiness. That probity of character also, which has distinguished the middle ranks of Englishmen, in commercial and private life, that abhorrence of falsehood and fraud, in our intercourse with our equals, that disdain of servility, in our demeanour towards the great, that generosity, which, with one strange and sad exception, gives to the oppressed an advocate in every British bosom, would soon be found no more. The next generation, if not the present, would be all frenchified, and debased, even below the vile standard of our oppressors. Yes, Englishmen! your children would become in morals, as well as in allegiance, Frenchmen! I can say to you nothing worse.

When I contemplate all these sure and tremendous consequen→ ces of a conquest by France the exchange of the best of sovereigns,> for the worst of tyrants; of the happiest constitution that ever blessed the social union of mankind, for a rapacious military despotism; of the purest administration of justice upon earth, for barefaced corruption, unbridled violence, and oppression in its foulest forms; of unrivalled wealth and prosperity, for unparalleled misery and ruin; when I reflect on the direful means, by which this conquest must be accomplished, and the still more dreadful means by which it must be maintained; and when I add to this black catalogue, the horrors of religious persecution, and that general corruption of morals, which would probably ensue; I stand aghast at the frightful prospect. "Who shall live," I could exclaim in the words of Scripture," when "God doeth this thing?"

It reminds me of the vengeance denounced by prophecy against the great commercial city, the Babylon that is yet to be destroyed. "Babylon the great, is fallen, is fallen, and is become the habitation of "devils, and the hold of every foul spirit, and a cage of every unclean "bird. How much she hath glorified herself, and lived deliciously, "so much torment and sorrow give her: for she saith in her heart, "I sit a queen, and am no widow, and shall see no sorrow. There"fore shall her plagues come in one day; death and mourning, and "famine. And the merchants of the earth shall weep and mourn ❝ over her, for no man buyeth their merchandize any more. The

❝ merchandize of gold, and silver, and precious stones, and of pearls, "and of fine linen, and purple, and silk, and scarlet, and all thyme "wood, and all manner of vessels of most precious wood, and of "brass, and iron, and marble, and cinnamon, and odours, and oint"ments, and frankincense, and wine, and oil, and fine flour, and "wheat, and beasts, and sheep, and horses, and chariots, and slaves, "and souls of men, and the fruits which thy soul lusted after, are "departed from thee; and all things which were dainty and goodly, "are departed from thee; and thou shalt find them no more at all. "The merchants of these things, which were made rich by her, "shall stand afar off for the fear of her torment, weeping and wail❝ing, and saying, alas! alas! that great city, that was clothed in fine "linen, and purple, and scarlet, and decked with gold, and precious "stones, and pearls. For in one hour, so great riches is come to "nought. And every shipmaster, and all the company in ships, and "sailors, and as many as trade by sea, stood afar off, and cried when "they saw the smoke of the burning, saying, what city is like unto "this great city? And they cast dust on their heads, and cried, weep"ing and wailing, and saying, alas! alas! that great city, wherein “ were made rich all that had ships in the sea, by reason of her cost"liness; for in one hour is she made desolate."

* See the 18th chapter of the Revelations.—The author, in thus availing him-, self of the forcible and awful language of inspiration, to express ideas which his mind in vain labours to convey, trusts that he shall not be accused of presumptuously interpreting this prophecy, as predictive of the fate of his country. He holds it vain, if not irreverent, to attempt prospective interpretations of that kind; and feels his own extreme incompetency to offer, even conjectures, on such a difficult subject. Besides, this prophecy, is by most, if not all, the ablest Protestant com mentators, supposed to relate to the destruction of Papal Rome.