IN BRITAIN'S FAM'D ISLE, At the Theatre Royal, Where ACTORS of SPIRIT are found True and Loya!! WILL BE ACTED, CALL'D, BRITONS STRIKE SURE! OR, Fam'd DOCTOR BULLET'S INFALLIBLE CURE. A Nostrum, whose TOUCH will at once ease the Pain, WHICH FRENCH GASCONADERS May feel in the Brain! AND MAKE GALLIC DESPOTS, Who think themselves clever, REMEMBER THE ARMY OF ENGLAND At the End of the Play, when the French are struck mute, And new Martial Airs, whose Effect must be grand! INSTEAD. OF A FARCE, When the French are laid low, BRITONS AND TRIUMPHANT Have vanquish'd the FOE! Returning from CONQUEST-they'll all do their Duty, With Fervor, by Old and by Young, AND THEN, TO CONCLUDE, ALL OUR BRAVE VOLUNTEERS, THE WHOLE BRITISH EMPIRE The Blessings of Freedom! and God Save the King." Admission gratis to British Patriots; but none, except Privy Counsellors, will be admitted behind the Scenes. A BRITISH FARMER'S LETTER leave (incredible as the supposition may ΤΟ HIS COUNTRYMEN. MY COUNTRYMEN! IT may seem to you somewhat extraordinary that a man, who holds the plough with one hand, should presume to take up the pen with the other; but occasion will make the illiterate eloquent. We are now threatened with a powerful Invasion; and, were it possible for the Enemy to succeed, the consequence to us would be the same as if the whole frame of Heaven and Earth was thrown into its first darkness and confusion. When I walk abroad, and behold the lands that I have so diligently fenced and improved; when I reflect that the lordliest 'Squire in the land dares not touch my person, my character, or my property, with impunity: when I return home and am met by my wife; when my children spread their arms around me, and pledges of my happiness,—is it possible that I can think with patience on the threatened ruin? To see my fields destroyed; my house a heap of rubbish; my wife torn from my bosom, and my children murdered: I will never survive such a day of horror; and I only wish for a thousand lives, that I might die as many deaths in their defence. Have you, then, my countrymen, no such property to preserve? Have you no parents to protect; no wives to che rish; no children to defend? Your properties and Liberties depend, under COD, upon yourselves: they may be weakened by Luxury, or destroyed by Na corruption, but not by arms: they may be undermined by treachery, but cannot be wrested from you by force. Let the nation be numbered; let that number be divided into three parts; be) two thirds to the timid; but sever to us one third as the protectors of the country again divide that third, and one half of it shall be amply sufficient to crush Invasion." Fear ye to die, my countrymen? It is a necessary debt to nature? and nature. has made nothing necessary that is to be feared. It is in ourselves alone to make death dreadful, or desirable; to make it desirable by a life of virtue, or dreadful indeed by a death of dishonour. Would ye be safe, my countrymen? Be valiant. Danger pursues the wretch that flies from it, but flies itself from a courage that dares the encounter. Life is short; death is certain; time is no-' thing; Action and virtue are all it is by these alone that life ought to be measured, and his is the longest who falls for his country. : But, if there are any of you who fear to die, behold yon gathered armies, and learn that the only means to save life is to slay the enemy. Is any one a coward? Let self-preservation inspire him with courage. Is any man a patriot? Let him fight for his Country. Is any man a parent? Let him fight for his family. Has any one affection? Let him fight for his friends. Docs any man feel in his bosom the glow of loyalty? Let him fight for a King who is the father of his people. Observe, my countrymen, the degree of ascent to public happiness. A single person--a family- -societygovernment-law--security--perfection of liberty. Here should be our rest: this is like the sun rising from the first dawn to his meridian; but mark well the descent: usurpation-tyrannyslavery. This is like the sun declining from his meridian, 'ull he sets in utter darkness. This it is with which we are threatened. To To Britons the love of their king and country, and of that liberty the extinction of which is the object of our implacable enemy, are subjects to which the ear would listen untired; but action is instant, and cuts expression short: be it sufficient that liberty includes all that is estimable; which no power shall take from us, or invade unpunished: it is ingrafted in our nature; it is supported by our Government, and confirmed by our Constitution; it is the source of happiness; it is dearer than life, and 'till death we will retain it. Then let invasion come, we will stand its utmost fury. The eyes of mankind are upon us, and they expect their safety from our valour. Look back, my countrymen, to your forefathers; look round to your families; look onward to posterity: We will live with honour, or fall with our country; DIE WE MAY, BUT WE WILL NOT BE DEFEATED. ORIGINAL POETRY. BRITISH RESOLUTION. LET Nations crouch beneath the Tyrant's sway, On hostile shores in distant burning climes This might a lesson teach to Mankind's foe, In such a strife unaided and alone They may with confidence on Heav'n rely, G. Where power now shields their much-lov'd Monarch's throne A PATRIOTIC SONG. BY GEORGE BIGGS. ROUSE! Rouse! ev'ry Briton! awake at the call, Nor regard what our foes may attempt in their might. GG Shall Shall a Plebeian Usurper our coast dare invade CHORUS. Magna Charta we boast, British Laws will maintain, Shall the French now come here and our laws abrogate, Bonaparte, we know, could he gain his desire, Magna Charta, &c. Who true to Liberty's fair laws, Will fight till death in Freedom's cause, Then Britons rouse your martial fires, The tyrant to oppose; Be brave as were your ancient sires, Arouse, then, Britons, rouse to arms! And never be it said That Gallia, by her vain alarms, E'er made our isle afraid. N. B SELECTED POETRY. SONG OF DEATH. BY THE CELEBRATED ROBERT BURNS. When the pressing nature of public Affairs called in 1795, for a general Arming of the FAREWELL, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies Farewell love and friendship, ye dear tender ties, Our race of existence is run! Thou grim King of Terrors, thou life's gloomy foe, Go, teach them to tremble, fell tyrant! but know, Thou striks't the dull peasant, he sinks in the dark, Да |