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THE CONSPIRACY OF KINGS.

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THE CONSPIRACY OF KINGS; A POEM: ADDRESSED TO THE INHABITANTS OF EUROPE, FROM ANOTHER QUARTER OF THE WORLD.

BY JOEL BARLOW, Author of the VISION of COLUMBUS, ADVICE to the PRIVILEGED ORDERS, &c. &c.

"But they, in sooth, must reason. Curses light
"On the proud talent! 'twill at last undo us.
"When men are gorged with each absurdity
"Their subtil wits can frame, or we adopt,
"For very novelty they'll fly to sense,
"And we must fall before the idol, Fashion."

PRINTED AND SOLD BY ROBINSON & TUCKER: NEWBURYPORT—1794.

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PREFACE.

THE following little Poem was published in London, in February 1792. It happened that two of the principal con­spirators, the emperor Leopold, and the king of Sweden, died in a few weeks after. The opposite effects, produced by the death of these two persons, are very remarkable. From a view of the general character of the king of Sweden, and of the particular transactions of the last year of his life, there can be no doubt but he has determined to go any lengths with the powers which were then confederating against the liberty of France; and it is a consolation to human nature, that the violent death of one sceptred mad-man has saved the people of Sweden from those hor­rid scenes of slaughter which now involve most of the neighbour­ing nations.

The character of Leopold, in some of its leading traits, was [Page vi] directly the reverse of that of Gustavus. The latter was prod­igal of wealth, and excessively eager for what is called military fame, without the capacity or the means of acquiring it; the former was affectedly pacific, moderate in most of his vices, and remarkable for nothing but his avarice. He had sense enough to see that nothing was to be gained by a war with France; his avarice, had he lived, would have been a sufficient guar­antee against that event; and his death may be considered as the immediate cause of the war.

The treaty of Pilnitz was doubtless fabricated in the court of Paris. The emperor agreed to it, for the purpose of duping the king of Prussia into measures which might secure the obedi­ence of the people of Brabant, whom he had pacified the year before by a cruel deception. His design was likewise to deceive the emigrant princes, who were then deceiving him; and to exhibit such a menacing appearance, as, according to his cal­culation, would induce the French people to set down quietly under a limited monarchy; well knowing that, if they did this, their government would soon degenerate into a despotism, which would continue to give countenance to the general principle that had so long enslaved the nations of Europe.

That he never intended, or had relinquished the intention, of executing the conditions of the treaty of Pilnitz by going to war with France, is evident from the following considerations: the French constitution was ratified, and the revolution suppo­sed to be finished, in September 1791. A war, to overturn [Page vii] that constitution, certainly ought not to have been deferred be­yond the ensuing spring; and as it would require an army of two or three hundred thousand men, the winter must have been occupied in making the preparations. Leopold died suddenly, about the first of March. At that time no preparations had been made for offensive hostilities. The number of troops sent from Austria into the Low Countries, during the autumn and winter, was not more than was stipulated to be maintained there, and were scarcely sufficient to enforce the despotism to which he had destined that unhappy people. Before the death of Leo­pold, the French emigrants at Coblentz began to despair. The hopes they had built on the treaty of Pilnitz had nearly van­ished; the princes had an army of forty thousand gentlemen to maintain; Louis was carrying on too great a system of corrup­tion at home, to be able to supply them with money from his civil list; they had exhausted their credit in all the mercan­tile towns in Europe; and Leopold, considering them in the character of beggars, began to treat them as troublesome guests; for none of the objects of their demands could be flattering to his favourite passion. At last, to their great satisfaction, the emperor died; and his system with regard to France was either never understood by his own ministers; or it was laid aside, in compliance with the predominant passions of his son; which happened to be for war, expence, and unqualified despotism.

This young man began his career by a solemn declaration to all the powers of Europe, that he should follow precisely the syst­em [Page viii] of his father, with respect to the affairs of France. This de­claration might be understood to mean the open and avowed system, prescribed by the treaty of Pilnitz, or the secret and un­explained system, which was to avoid the war. It was univer­sally understood, as it was doubtless meant, in favour of the a­vowed system; whose object, announced in the treaty, was " to support the rights of crowns."

From this moment, a spirit of hostility was provoked by the Court of Vienna, and encouraged by the French ambassador there, who, like their other ambassadors, was betraying the nation, to serve the king; till, on the 20th of April, war was declared by the National Assembly. In this war the des­pots of Europe will try their strength, and will probably soon be exhausted.

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THE CONSPIRACY OF KINGS.

ETERNAL Truth, thy trump undaunted lend,
People and priests and courts and kings, attend;
While, borne on western gales from that far shore
Where Justice reigns, and tyrants tread no more,
Th' untainted voice, that no dissuasion awes,
That fears no frown, and seeks no blind applause,
Shall tell the bliss that Freedom sheds abroad,
The rights of Nature and the gift of God.
Think not, ye knaves, whom meanness styles the Great,
Drones of the Church and harpies of the State,—
Ye, whose curst sires, for blood and plunder fam'd,
Sultans or kings or czars or emp'rors nam'd,
Taught the deluded world their claims to own,
And raise the crested reptiles to a throne,—
[Page 10]Ye, who pretend to your dark host was given
The lamp of life, the mystic keys of heaven;
Whose impious arts with magic spells began,
When shades of ign'rance veil'd the race of man;
Who change, from age to age the sly deceit,
As Science beams, and Virtue learns the cheat;
Tyrants of double powers, the souls that blind,
To rob, to scourge, and brutalize mankind,—
Think not I come to croak with omen'd yell
The dire damnations of your future hell,
To bend a bigot or reform a knave,
By op'ning all the scenes beyond the grave.
I know your crusted souls: while one defies
In sceptic scorn the vengeance of the skies,
The other boasts,—"I ken thee, Power divine,
"But fear thee not; th' avenging bolt is mine."
No! 'tis the present world that prompts the song,
The world we see, the world that feels the wrong,
The world of men, whose arguments ye know,
Of men, long curb'd to servitude and woe▪
[Page 11]Men, rous'd from sloth; by indignation stung,
Their strong hands loos'd, and found their fearless tongue;
Whose voice of thunder, whose descending steel,
Shall speak to souls, and teach dull nerves to feel.
Think not (ah no! the weak delusion shun,
Burke leads you wrong, the world is not his own)
Indulge not once the thought, the vap'ry dream,
The fool's repast, the mad-man's thread-bare theme,
That nations, rising in the light of truth,
Strong with new life and pure regenerate youth,
Will shrink from toils so splendidly begun,
Their bliss abandon and their glory shun,
Betray the trust by Heav'n's own hand consign'd,
The great concentred stake, the intrest of mankind.
Ye speak of kings combin'd, some league that draws
Europe's whole force, to save your sinking cause;
Of fancy'd hosts by myriads that advance
To crush the untry'd power of new-born France.
Misguided men! these idle tales despise;
Let one bright ray of reason strike your eyes;
[Page 12]Show me your kings, the sceptred horde parade,—
See their pomp vanish! see your visions fade!
Indignant MAN resumes the shaft he gave,
Disarms the tyrant and unbinds the slave,
Displays the unclad skeletons of kings *,
Spectres of power, and serpents without stings.
And shall mankind,—shall France, whose giant might
Rent the dark veil, and dragg'd them forth to light,
Heed now their threats in dying anguish tost?
And She who fell'd the monster, fear the ghost?
Bid young Alcides, in his grasp who takes,
And gripes with naked hand the twisting snakes,
Their force exhausted, bid him prostrate fall,
And dread their shadows trembling on the wall.
But grant to kings and courts their ancient play,
Recall their splendor and revive their sway;
Can all your cant and all your cries persuade
One power to join you in your wild crusade?
[Page 13]In vain ye search to earth's remotest end;
No court can aid you, and no king defend.
Not the mad knave who Sweden's sceptre stole,
Nor She, whose thunder shakes the northern pole;
Nor Frederic's widow'd sword, that scorns to tell
On whose weak brow his crown reluctant fell.
Not the tri-sceptred prince, of Austrian mould,
The ape of wisdom and the slave of gold,
Theresa's son, who, with a feeble grace,
Just mimics all the vices of his race;
For him no charm can foreign strife afford,
Too mean to spend his wealth, too wise to trust his sword.
Glance o'er the Pyrenees,—but you'll disdain
To break the dream that sooths the Monk of Spain.
He counts his beads, and spends his holy zeal
To raise once more th' inquisitorial wheel,
Prepares the faggot and the flame renews,
To roast the French, as once the Moors and Jews;
While abler hands the busy task divide,
His Queen to dandle and his State to guide,
[Page 14]Ye ask great Pitt to join your desp'rate work,—
See how his annual aid confounds the Turk!
Like a war-elephant his bulk he shows,
And treads down friends, when frighten'd by his foes.
Where then, forsaken villains, will ye turn?
Of France the outcast, and of earth the scorn;
What new-made charm can dissipate your fears?
Can Burke's mad foam, or Calonne's house of Peers *?
Can Artois' sword, that erst near Calpe's wall,
Where Crillon sought and Elliott was to fall,
Burn'd with the fire of fame, but harmless burn'd,
For sheath'd the sword remain'd, and in its sheath return'd?
[Page 15]Oh Burke, degenerate slave! with grief and shame
The Muse indignant must repeat thy name.
Strange man, declare,—since at creation's birth,
From crumbling Chaos sprang this heav'n and earth,
Since wrecks and outcast relics still remain,
Whirl'd ceaseless round confusion's dreary reign,
Declare, from all these fragments, whence you stole
That genius wild, that monstrous mass of soul;
Where spreads the widest waste of all extremes,
Full darkness frowns, and heav'n's own splendor beams;
Truth, Error, Falsehood, Rhetoric's raging tide,
And Pomp and meanness, Prejudice and Pride,
Strain to an endless clang thy voice of fire,
[Page 16]Thy thoughts bewilder and thy audience tire.
Like Phoebus' son, we see thee wing thy way,
Snatch the loose reins, and mount the car of day,
To earth now plunging plough thy wasting course,
The great Sublime of weakness and of force.
But while the world's keen eye, with generous glance,
Thy faults could pardon and thy worth enhance,
When foes were hush'd, when Justice dar'd commend,
And e'en fond Freedom claim'd thee as a friend,
Why, in a gulph of baseness, sink forlorn,
And change pure praise for infamy and scorn?
And didst thou hope, by thy infuriate quill
To rouse mankind the blood of realms to spill?
Then to restore, on death-devoted plains,
Their scourge to tyrants, and to man his chains?
To swell their souls with thy own bigot rage,
And blot the glories of so bright an age?
First stretch thy arm, and, with less impious might,
Wipe out the stars, and quench the solar light:
" For heav'n and earth," the voice of God ordains,
[Page 17] "Shall pass and perish, but my word remains,"
Th' eternal WORD, which gave in spite of thee,
REASON to man, that bids the man be free.
Thou could'st not hope: 'twas Heav'n's returning grace,
In kind compassion to our injur'd race,
Which stripp'd that soul, ere it should flee from hence,
Of the last garp of decency or sense,
Left thee its own foul horrors to display,
In all the blackness of its native day,
To sink at last, from earth's glad surface hurl'd,
The sordid sov'reign of the letter'd world.
In some sad hour, ere death's dim terrors spread,
Ere seas of dark oblivion whelm thy head,
Reflect, lost man,—If those, thy kindred knaves,
O'er the broad Rhine whose flag rebellious waves,
Once draw the sword; its burning point shall bring
To thy quick nerves a never-ending sting;
The blood they shed thy weight of woes shall swell,
And their grim ghosts for ever with thee dwell. *
[Page 18]Learn hence, ye tyrants, ere ye learn too late,
Of all your craft th' inevitable fate.
The hour is come, the world's unclosing eyes
Discern with rapture where its wisdom lies;
From western heav'ns th' inverted Orient springs,
The morn of man, the dreadful night of kings.
Dim, like the day-struck owl, ye grope in light,
No arm for combat, no resource in flight;
If on your guards your lingering hopes repose,
Your guards are men, and men youv'e made your foes;
If to your rocky ramparts ye repair,
* De Launay's fate can tell your fortune there.
No turn, no shift, no courtly arts avail,
Each mask is broken, all illusions fail;
Driv'n to your last retreat of shame and fear,
One counsel waits you, one relief is near:
By worth internal, rise to self-wrought fame,
[Page 19]Your equal rank, your human kindred claim;
Tis reason's choice, 'tis Wisdom's final plan,
To drop the monarch and assume the man.
Hail MAN, exalted title! first and best,
On God's own image by his hand imprest,
To which at last the reas'ning race is driven,
And seeks anew what first it gain'd from Heav'n.
O MAN, my brother, how the cordial flame
Of all endearments kindles at the name!
In every clime, thy visage greets my eyes,
In every tongue thy kindred accents rise;
The thought expanding swells my heart with glee,
It finds a friend, and loves itself in thee▪
Say then, fraternal family divine,
Whom mutual wants and mutual aids combine,
Say from what source the dire delusion rose,
That souls like ours were ever made for foes;
Why earth's maternal bosom, where we tread,
To rear our mansions and receive our bread,
Should blush so often for the race she bore,
[Page 20]So long be drench'd with floods of filial gore;
Why to small realms forever rest confin'd
Our great affections, meant for all mankind.
Though climes divide us; shall the stream or sea,
That forms a barrier 'twixt my friend and me,
Inspire the wish his peaceful state to mar,
And meet his falchion in the ranks of war?
Not seas, nor climes, nor wild ambition's fire
In nations' minds could e'er the wish inspire;
Where equal rights each sober voice should guide,
No blood would stain them, and no war divide.
'Tis dark deception, 'tis the glare of state,
Man sunk in titles, lost in Small and Great;
'Tis Rank, Distinction, all the hell that springs
From those prolific monsters, Courts and Kings.
These are the vampires nurs'd on nature's spoils;
For these with pangs the starving peasant toils,
For these the earth's broad surface teems with grain,
Their's the dread labours of the devious main;
And when the wasted world but dares refuse
[Page 21]The gifts oppressive and extorted dues,
They bid wild slaughter spread the gory plains,
The life-blood gushing from a thousand veins,
Erect their thrones amid the sanguine flood,
And dip their purple in the nation's blood.
The gazing croud, of glittering State afraid,
Adore the power their coward meanness made;
In war's short intervals, while regal shows
Still blind their reason and insult their woes.
What strange events for proud Processions call!
See kingdoms crouding to a Birth-night Ball!
See the long pomp in gorgeous glare display'd,
The tinsel'd guards, the squadron'd horse parade;
See heralds gay, with emblems on their vest,
In tissu'd robes, tall, beauteous pages drest,
Amid superior ranks of splendid slaves,
Lords, Dukes and Princes, titulary knaves,
Confus'dly shine their crosses, gems and stars,
Sceptres and globes and crowns and spoils of wars.
On gilded orbs see thundering chariots roll'd,
[Page 22]Steeds snorting fire, and champing bitts of gold,
Prance to the trumpet's voice; while each assumes
A loftier gait, and lifts his neck of plumes.
High on a moving throne, and near the van,
The tyrant rides, the chosen scourge of man;
Clarions and flutes and drums his way prepare,
And shouting millions rend the troubled air;
Millions, whose ceaseless toils the pomp sustain,
Whose hour of stupid joy repays an age of pain▪
Of these no more. From Orders, Slaves and Kings,
To thee, O MAN, my heart rebounding springs,
Behold th' ascending bliss that waits your call,
Heav'n's own bequest, the heritage of all.
Awake to wisdom, seize the proffer'd prize;
From shade to light, from grief to glory rise.
Freedom at last, with reason in her train,
Extends o'er earth her everlasting reign;
See Gallia's sons, so late the tyrant's sport,
Machines in war and sycophants at court,
Start into men, expand their well-taught mind,
[Page 23]Lords of themselves and leaders of Mankind.
On equal rights their base of empire lies,
On walls of wisdom see the structure rise;
Wide o'er the gazing world it tow'rs sublime,
A modell'd form for each surrounding clime.
To useful toils they bend their noblest aim,
Make patriot views and moral views the same,
Renounce the wish of war, bid conquest cease,
Invite all men to happiness and peace,
To faith and justice rear the youthful race,
With strength exalt them and with science grace,
Till truth's blest banners, o'er the regions hurl'd,
Shake tyrants from their thrones, and cheer the waking world.
In nothern climes, where feudal shades of late
Chill'd every heart and palsied every State,
Behold illumin'd by th' instructive age,
That great phenomenon, a Scepter'd Sage.
There Stanislaus unfolds his prudent plan,
Tears the strong bandage from the eyes of man,
Points the progressive march, and shapes the way,
[Page 24]That leads a realm from darkness into day.
And deign, for once, to turn a transient eye
To that wide world that skirts the western sky;
Hail the mild morning, where the dawn began,
The full fruition of the hopes of Man:
Where sage experience seals the sacred cause;
And that rare union, liberty and laws,
Speaks to the reas'ning race; to freedom rise
Like them be equal, and like them be wise.
FINIS
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Note on Mr. Burke, referring to page 17.

* Some of the author's friends in England, although they join with him in censuring the writings of Mr. Burke on the French Revolu­tion, are of opinion that the picture here drawn of that writer is too highly coloured; or at least, that the censure is so severe as to lose the effect that it might otherwise produce. It is impossible to say what effect, and whether any, has or will be produced by this poem; but, out of respect to the opinion above stated, it may be proper to make some observations on the effect that has already followed from the writings of Mr. Burke. I speak not of what has taken place in England; where it is supposed that, contrary to his intentions and those of the government that set him at work, his malicious attack upon liberty has opened a discussion which cannot be closed until the whole system of despotism, which he meant to support, shall be over­turned in that country. The present war with France is doubtless the last piece of delusion that a set of hereditary tyrants will ever be able to impose upon the people of England.

But this subject opens a field of contemplation far more serious and extensive on the continent of Europe; where if Mr. Burke can view without horror the immensity of the mischiefs he has done, he will show himself worthy of much higher attributes of wickedness than have yet been ascribed to him. It is a painful task to traverse such a wide scene of slaughter and desolation as now involves the nations of Europe, and then to lay it all to the charge of a single individual; especially when we consider that individual as having for a long time before, enjoyed the confidence of all good men, and having at last be­trayed it from the worst and vilest motives; as he had established his previous reputation by speaking the language of liberty, and profes­sing himself to be the friend of national felicity. But it is not from a transitory disgust at his detestible principles, it is from deliberate observation and mature conviction, that I state it as an historical fact, That the present war, with all its train of calamities, must be attribu­ted almost exclusively to the pen of Mr. Burke.

There is a peculiar combination of circumstances which threw this [Page 26] power into his hands, and which ought to be duly considered, before we come to a decision on the subject. The people of England had enjoyed for several ages a much greater portion of liberty than any other people in Europe. This had raised them to a great degree of eminence in many respects. At the same time that it rendered them powerful as a nation, it made them sober, industrious and persevering, as individuals; it taught them to think and speak with a certain air of dignity, independence and precision, which was unknown in other countries. This circumstance could not fail to gain the admiration of foreigners and to excite a perpetual emulation among themselves. England has therefore produced more than her proportion of the il­lustrious men of modern times, especially in politics and legislation, as these affairs came within the reach of a larger class of men in that country than in any other.

In a nation where there is an enormous civil list at the disposal of the crown, and a constitutional spirit of liberty kept alive in the peo­ple we must necessarily expect to find two parties in the government. In such a case, as the king is sure to carry all the measures that he dares to propose, the party in favour of the people are called the op­position; and it being always a minority, it gives occasion for great exertion of talents, and is supposed to be the nurse of every public virtue. Such has been the composition of the English government ever since the last revolution. The opposition has been the school of great men; its principle disciples have been the apostles of liberty; and their exertions have made the British name respectable in every part of the world. Mr. Burke had been for many years at the head of this school; and from the brilliant talents he [...]covered in that con­spicuous station, he rendered himself universally respected. His elo­quence was of that flowery and figurative kind, which attract­ed great admiration in foreign countries; where it was viewed, for the most part, through the medium of a translation; so that he was considered, at least in every country out of England, as the ablest ad­vocate of liberty that then existed in Europe. Even kings and tyrants, [Page 27] who hated the cause, could not withhold their veneration from the man.

Under these impressions, their attention was called to the great e­vent of the French revolution. It was a subject which they did not understand, a business in which they had no intention to interfere; as it was evidently no concern of theirs. But viewed as a speculative point, it is as natural for kings as for other persons to wait till they learn what great men have said, before they form their opinion. Mr. Burke did not suffer them to remain long in suspence; but, to en­lighten their understandings and teach them how to judge, he came forward with his " Reflections on the Revolution in France;" where, in his quality of the political schoolmaster of his age, in his quality of the professed enemy of tyrants, the friend of the people, the most en­lightened leader of the most enlightened nation in Europe, he tells them that this Revolution is an abominable usurpation of a gang of beggarly tyrants; that its principle is atheism and anarchy; that its instruments are murders, rapes, and plunders; that its object is to hunt down religion, overturn society, and deluge the world in blood.— Then, in the whining cant of state-piety, and in the cowardly inso­lence of personal safety, he calls upon the principal sovereigns of Eu­rope to unite in a general confederation, to march into France, to in­terfere in the affairs of an independent power▪ to make war with the principles which he himself had long laboured to support, to over­turn the noblest monument of human wisdom, and blast the fairest hopes of public happiness that the world had ever seen.

Copies of his book were sent in great profusion by the courts of London and Paris to the other courts of Europe; it was read by all men of letters, and by all men of state, with an avidity inspired by the celebrity of the author and the magnitude of the subject; and it produced an effect which, in other circumstances would have appear­ed almost miraculous; especially when we consider the intrinsic char­acter of the work. M. de Calonne, about the same time, published a book of much more internal merit; a book in which falshood is [Page 28] clothed in a more decent covering; and in which there is more ener­gy and argument, to excite the champions of despotism to begin the work of desolation. But Calonne wrote and appeared in his true char­acter. It was known that he had been a robber in France, and was now an exile in England; and, while he herded with the English rob­bers at St. James's, he wrote to revenge himself upon the country whose justice he had escaped. His writings, therefore, had but little weight; perhaps as little as Mr. Burke's would have had, if his real object had been known.

But this illustrious hypocrite possessed every advantage for decep­tion. He palmed himself upon the world as a volunteer in the gene­ral cause of philanthropy. Giving himself up to the frenzy of an unbridled imagination, he conceives himself writing tragedy, with­out being confined to the obvious laws of fiction; and taking advan­tage of the recency of the events, and of the ignorance of those who were to read his rhapsodies, he peoples France with assassins, for the sake of raising a hue-and-cry against its peaceable inhabitants; he paints ideal murders, that they may be avenged by the reality of a wide extended slaughter; he transforms the mildest and most generous people in Europe into a nation of monsters and atheists, "heaping mountains upon mountains, and waging war with heaven," that he may interest the consciences of one part of his readers, and cloak the hypocrisy of another, to induce them both to renounce the char­acter of men, while they avenge the cause of God.

Such was the first picture of the French Revolution presented at once to the eyes of all the men who held the reins of government in the several states of Europe; and such was the authority of the author by whom it was presented, that we are not to be astonished at the ef­fect. The emigrant princes, and the agents of the court of the Thu [...] ­leries, who were then besieging the anti-chambers of ministers in eve­ry country, found a new source of impudence in this extraordinary work. They found their own invented fictions confirmed in their ful­lest latitude, and a rich variety of superadded falshood, of which the [Page 29] most shameless sycophant of Louis or of Condé would hare blushed to have been the author. With this book in their hands it was easy to gain the ear of men already predisposed to listen to any project which might rivet the chains of their fellow creatures.

These arguments, detailed by proper agents, induced some of the principal sovereigns of Europe to agree to the treaty of Pilnitz; then the death of Leopold, as I have stated in the preface, unhappily re­moved the great obstacle to the execution of that treaty, and the war of Mr. Burke was let loose, with all the horrors he intended to ex­cite. And what is the language proper to be used in describing the character of a man, who, in his situation, at his time of life, and for a pension of only fifteen hundred pounds a year, could sit down de­liberately in his closet and call upon the powers of earth and hell to inflict such a weight of misery on the human race? When we see Al­exander depopulating kingdoms and reducing great cities to ashes, we transport ourselves to the age in which he lived, when human slaugh­ter was human glory; and we make some allowance for the ravings of ambition. If we contemplate the frightful cruelties of Cortez and Pizarro, we view their characters as a composition of avarice and fan­aticism; we see them insatiable of wealth, and mad with the idea of extending the knowledge of their religion. But here is a man who calls himself a philosopher, not remarkable for his avarice, the delight and ornament of a numerous society of valuable friends, respected by all enlightened men as a friend of peace and a preacher of humanity, living in an age when military madness has lost its charms, and men begin to unite in searching the means of avoiding the horrors of war; this man, wearied with the happiness that surrounds him, and disgust­ed at the glory that awaits him, renounces all his friends, belies the doctrines of his former life, bewails that the military savageness of the fourteenth century is past away, and, to gratify his barbarous wishes to call it back, conjures up a war, in which at least two millions of his fellow creatures must be sacrificed to his unaccountable passion. Such is the condition of human nature, that the greatest crimes have usual­ly [Page 30] gone unpunished. It appears to me, that history does not furnish a greater one than this of Mr. Burke; and yet all the consolation that we can draw from the detection, is to leave the man to his own re­flections, and expose his conduct to the execration of posterity.

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