Robert Southey calls this “the political hymn of our Country,” and it may certainly be regarded as the British National Song. There has been some controversy as to its authorship, it is generally ascribed to James Thomson, author of “The Seasons,” whilst others have assigned it to David Mallet. The arguments are too lengthy to be reproduced here, but the chief points of the discussion are to be found in letters from Mr. William Chappell, and Mr. Julian Marshall, published in “Notes and Queries,” August 14, November 20, and December 18, 1886. Possibly both Thomson and Mallet joined in the composition of the _ode_ (as they styled it), but this question can now never be authoritatively settled. No doubt exists however that the music was composed by Dr. Thomas Arne, and by it, and the chorus, Rule Britannia is known all the world over. On the 1st August, 1740, a Masque styled _Alfred_, written by James Thomson and David Mallet, was performed in the gardens of Cliefdon House, in commemoration of the accession of George I., before the Prince and Princess of Wales. The plot of the Masque was based on the gallant struggles of King Alfred with the Danes, it abounded with patriotic allusions, and _Rule Britannia_ was thus introduced in scene 5, Act 2. “Here is seen the Ocean in prospect, and ships sailing along. Two boats land their crews. One Sailor sings the following ode; after which the rest join in a lively Dance.” When Britain first, at Heaven’s command, Arose from out the azure main; This was the charter, the charter of the land, And guardian angels sung the strain; Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules the waves! Britons never will be slaves. The nations, not so blest as thee, Must in their turns to tyrants fall; While thou shalt flourish great and free, The dread and envy of them all. Rule, Britannia! &c. Still more majestic shalt thou rise, More dreadful from each foreign stroke; As the loud blast that rends the skies, Serves but to root thy native oak. Rule, Britannia! &c. Thee haughty tyrants ne’er shall tame: All their attempts to bend thee down Will but arouse thy generous flame―― And work their woe, and thy renown. Rule, Britannia! &c. To thee belongs the rural reign: Thy cities shall with commerce shine; All thine shall be the subject main, And ev’ry shore it circles thine. Rule Britannia! &c. The Muses, still with freedom found, Shall to thy happy coasts repair, Blest isle! with matchless beauty crown’d, And manly hearts to guard the fair. Rule, Britannia! Britannia rule the waves! Britons never will be slaves. ―――― LATIN VERSION.