tions of life, I felt the same interest in defence of the country that I do at present, the same attachment to the cause of civil and religious security, the same contempt for oppression, the same stubborn and unbroken spirit of independence, the same determined opposition both to domestic tyranny and to the ignominy of a foreign yoke. True, I had little to lose-but that little was all that belonged to me. It supplied all the stores of my enjoyment. It filled up the measure of my humble and unambitious desires; and had it fallen a sacrifice to the rapacity of an invading army, it would have afflicted me with equal severity as the destruction of the house which I now occupy, of the land which I now cultivate, of the emoluments of the office which I now exercise-an office to the duties of which the remainder of my days may probably be consecrated. Let it not be said that you have no interest in the defence of the country. You may live in a straw-built shed, and have an equal interest with him who triumphs in all the magnificence of wealth, and is invested with the proudest honours of nobility. You may have children whose infancy you have protected, and to whose manhood you look forward as the support and consolation of your declining years. You may have parents whose age requires your protection; for even age will not soften the cruelty of your relentless enemies. Let it not be said that discussions like these are a prostitution of the dignity of the pulpit, or an impertinent deviation from our official character to lend the authority of our profession to the aid of party, or to employ it in strengthening the yoke of despotism over an enslaved and persecuted people. I hope in God there is not a man among us who would not willingly renounce the smiles of the great and the patronage of power, rather than concur in supporting the measures of an arbitrary and oppressive Government. We come forward not in the spirit of an accommodating policy. We come forward because it is the dictate of our own hearts, and the dictate of our own opinions. We come forward because we conceive it to be the duty of every good man in the present critical and alarming circumstances of the country. We come forward because it is the cause of patriotism. It is the cause of civil and religious liberty. It is the cause of that Christianity that has been transmitted to us from our ancestors, and that we have been taught from our infancy to cherish and revere. Some of you may have heard of Lavater; he was a clergyman of the once free and independent country of Switzerland. He was one of the most eminent literary characters of his age. He had a mind formed for the profoundest investigations of science, and a heart animated by that mild and generous benevolence which the faith of Christianity inspires. He was at first a keen supporter of the French Revolution; he defended it by his writings, he hailed it as the commencement of a grand era-when liberty, and science, and virtue would expand their triumphs and erect an omnipotent empire. But the picture was soon changed. A few years had scarcely elapsed when he saw through the magic that had bewitched him. His own country was invaded by the French troops, and fell a prey to the most unexampled atrocities. In his retreat he wrote a pamphlet which I have myself seen.* He here discovers all the ardour of his patriotic mind, in the exclamations of disappointed benevolence, and in the afflicting regrets with which he contemplates the ruin of his countrymen. Let us not tremble at the dangers which surround us. Let us not be afraid though an enemy should encamp against us. What, in the name of Heaven!-is it for us to resign our lives and our liberties to the insolence of lawless ambition! Is it for us to surrender those sacred privileges which were cemented by the blood of our ancestors! The pulse of a Briton beats high in the cause of independence. A contempt for oppression is the proudest sentiment of his heart. He has sucked it in from his infancy; it glows even in the humblest retreats of poverty; it ennobles the lowest retirements of life. Amid the shocks of misfortune he sustains the dignity of an unbroken spirit; he rejoices in his conscious importance, not as a favourite of fortune, not as the lordling of an extensive domain who exercises the reign of caprice over a tribe of dependents, not as the child of hereditary grandeur who can appeal to the honours of a * The pamphlet here alluded to is in all likelihood the one entitled "Remonstrance addressed to the Executive Directory of the French Republic against the Invasion of Switzerland. By John Caspar Lavater. London, 1798.” remote and illustrious ancestry-he rejoices in his importance as a man—as a man whose rights are revered by the laws of his country, and whose virtues will be hailed by the voice of an applauding public. In a country such as this we have nothing to fear from the insolence of power; for it must submit to the severity of an impartial justice. In a country such as this we have nothing to fear from the corruption of our tribunals; for they feel that they are under the control of public opinion, and that all the splendour of official importance is unable to protect their injustice from the frown of a generous and enlightened people. In a country such as this we have nothing to fear from the efforts of sedition; for our common interests engage us to oppose it, and to control the violence of its deluded votaries. In a country such as this we have nothing to fear from the frenzy of revolutionary violence; for in the experience of our present blessings the unanimous sense of the people would rise to resist it. In a country such as this we have nothing to fear from the oppressions of an arbitrary Government; for our rulers have learned to respect the energy of the public voice, and feel that their best security is in the hearts of their subjects. And shall such a country turn pale at the approach of an invader? Shall its patriotism wither and die in the hour of danger? Will it surrender that venerable system of law that has been created by the wisdom of ages? Will it surrender that throne which has been adorned by the private virtues of him who holds it? Will it surrender that Christianity which has been transmitted to us from our ancestors, and which we have been taught from our infancy to cherish and revere? Will it surrender those fields. which the industry of its inhabitants has enriched with the fairest stores of cultivation? Will it surrender its towns and villages to destruction? Will it surrender its inhabitants to massacre? Will it surrender its homes to the insolence of a brutal and unfeeling soldiery? No. Let the invader attempt it when he may, he will attempt it to his destruction. The pride of an indignant country will rise to overthrow the purposes of his ambition, and the splendour of his past victories will be tarnished in the disgrace that awaits him. If true to ourselves we have nothing to fear from the insulting menaces of France. And can I for a moment cherish the disgraceful supposition-can I for a moment suppose that there is a man among us who would suffer his mind to be enfeebled by the cowardly apprehensions of danger? Can I for a moment suppose that there is a man among us who, in the present alarming circumstances, would prove false to the cause of his country? I would sooner open my door to the savage and murderous banditti of France than admit such a man into my confidence. Against an open enemy I can guard myself; he warns me of my danger; he throws me into a posture of defence; and I bid defiance to his rage. But the case is different with these insidious and designing men who lurk in the bosom of the country. They are snakes in the grass. They are asps of malignity whom we cherish in our bosoms. They are capable of violating the most sacred oaths, and betraying the best of friendships. Under the mask of patriotism they meditate their designs of treachery; and that country which, if firm and united, would bid defiance to the combined hostility of Europe, is delivered up a prey to all the horrors of insurrection. But I am satisfied that no such spirit exists in our neighbourhood. I am satisfied that the breast of every man who now hears me is animated by a feeling of the purest patriotism—that the breast of every man who now hears me feels the proudest disdain that France or any power under heaven should insult our independence, and threaten to invade the peace of our dwellings. May that day in which Buonaparte ascends the throne of Britain be the last of my existence; may I be the first to ascend the scaffold he erects to extinguish the worth and spirit of the country; may my blood mingle with the blood of patriots; and may I die at the foot of that altar on which British independence is to be the victim. The future year is big with wonders. It may involve us in all the horrors of a desolating war. may decide the complexion of the civilized world. It may decide the future tranquillity of ages. It may give an awful lesson to ambition; and teach the nations of Europe what it is to invade the shores of a great and a high-spirited country. VOL. VI. E It SERMON VI. [DURING the two years which elapsed from the time at which the fol- I. PETER III. 8. "Be courteous." COURTEOUSNESS is the same with what in common language would be called civility of manners; but as the mind is often 1 |