"Before the Temple of Freedom can be erected the surface must be smoothed and levelled, it must be cleared by repeated revolutionary explosions, from all the lumber and rubbish with which aristocracy and fanaticism will endeavour to encumber it, and to impede the progress of the holy work. The completion of the edifice will indeed be the more tardy, but it will not be the less durable for having been longer delayed. Cemented with the blood of tyrants and the tears of the aristocracy, it will rise a monument for the astonishment and veneration of future ages. The remotest posterity with our children yet unborn, and the most distant portions of the globe will crowd round its gates, and demand admission into its sanctuary. 'The Tree of Liberty' will be planted in the midst, and its branches will extend to the ends of the earth, while the friends of freedom meet and fraternize and amalgamate under its consolatory shade. There our infants shall be taught to lisp in tender accents the revolutionary hymn, there with wreaths of myrtle, and oak, and poplar, and vine, and olive and cypress, and ivy, with violets and roses and daffodils and dandelions in our hands, we will swear respect to childhood and manhood, and old age, and virginity, and womanhood, and widowhood; but above all to the Supreme Being. There we will decree and sanction the immortality of the soul, there pillars and obelisks, and arches, and pyramids will awaken the love of glory and of our country. There painters and statuaries with their chisels and colours, and engravers with their engraving tools will perpetuate the interesting features of our revolutionary heroes." The next extract is called "The Army of England," written by the ci-devant Bishop of Autun, and represents a French invasion as imminent:-- "Good republicans all The Directory's call Invites you to visit John Bull; Oppressed by the rod Of a king and a God The cup of his misery's full; "Old Johnny shall see What makes a man free, Not parchments, or statutes, or paper; And stripped of his riches, Great charter and breeches, Shall cut a free citizen's caper. "Then away, let us over To Deal or to Dover, We laugh at his talking so big; He's pampered with feeding, And wants a sound bleeding, _Par Dieu_! he shall bleed like a pig. "John tied to a stake A grand baiting will make When worried by mastiffs of France, What republican fun To see his blood run As at Lyons, La Vendee and Nantes. "With grape-shot discharges, And plugs in his barges, With national razors good store, We'll pepper and shave him And in the Thames lave him-- How sweetly he'll bellow and roar!