Nec spes Pacis adhuc—necdum exsaturata rapinis Effera Bellatrix, fusove expleta cruore. Crescit inextinctus Furor, atque exæstuat ingens Ambitio, immanisque irâ Vindicta renatâ Reliquias Soliorum et adhuc restantia Regna Flagitat excidio, prædæque incumbit opimæ. Una etenim in mediis Gens intemerata ruinis Libertate probâ, et justo libramine rerum, Securum faustis degit sub legibus ævum; Antiquosque colit mores, et jura Parentum Ordine firma suo, sanoque intacta vigore, Servat adhuc, hominumque fidem, curamque Deorum. Eheu! quanta odiis avidoque alimenta furori! Quanta profanatas inter spoliabitur aras Victima! si quando versis Victoria fatis Annuerit scelus extremum, terrâque subactâ Impius Oceani sceptrum fædaverit Hostis! [Illustration] No. VII. Dec. 25, 1797. We have been favoured with a translation of the Latin verses inserted in our last Number. We have little doubt that our readers will agree with us, in hoping that this may not be the last contribution which we shall receive from the same hand.[24] Parent of countless crimes, in headlong rage, War with herself see frantic _Gallia_ wage, Till worn and wasted by intestine strife, She falls—her languid pulse scarce quick with life. But soon she feels through every trembling vein, New strength collected from convulsive pain: Onward she moves, and sounds the dire alarm, And bids insulted nations haste to arm; Spreads wide the waste of war, and hurls the brand Of civil discord o’er each troubled land, While desolation marks her furious course, And thrones subverted bow beneath her force. Behold! she pours her Monarch’s guiltless blood, And quaffs with savage joy the crimson flood; Then, proud the deadly trophies to display Of her foul crimes, resistless bursts away, Unaw’d by justice, unappall’d by fear, And runs with giant strength her mad career. Where’er her banners float in barbarous pride, Where’er her conquest rolls its sanguine tide, There, the fair fabric of establish’d law, There social order, and religious awe, Sink in the general wreck; indignant there Honour and Virtue fly the tainted air; Fly the mild duties of domestic life That cheer the parent, that endear the wife, The lingering pangs of kindred grief assuage, Or soothe the sorrows of declining age.