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unhappily deemed a species of intolerance their religious duty; that Bishops of our church were among the first that contended against this error; and finally, that since the reformation, when tolerance became a fashion, the Church of England, in a tolerating age, has shewn herself eminently tolerant, and far more so, both in Spirit and in Fact, than many of her most bitter opponents, who profess to deem toleration itself an insult on the rights of mankind! As to myself, who not only know the Church-Establishment to be tolerant, but who see in it the greatest, if not the sole safe bulwark of Toleration, I feel no necessity of defending or palliating oppressions under the two Charleses, in order to exclaim with a full and fervent heart, ESTO PERPETUA!

Fire, Famine, and Slaughter.


The Scene, a desolated Tract in la Vendee. FAMINE is discovered lying on the ground; to her enter FIRE

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SLAUGHTER (to Fire.)

I will whisper it in her ear.


No! no! no!

Spirits hear what spirits tell :

"Twill make an holiday in Hell.

No! no! no!

Myself, I nam'd him once below,

And all the souls, that damned be,

Leapt up at once in anarchy,

Clapp'd their hands and danced for glee.

They no longer heeded me;

But laugh'd to hear Hell's burning rafters Unwillingly re-echo laughters!

No! no! no!

Spirits hear what spirits tell :

"Twill make an holiday in Hell!


Whisper it, sister! so and so!
In a dark hint, soft and slow.


Letters four do form his name

And who sent you?


The same! the same!


He came by stealth, and unlock'd my den,

And I have drank the blood since then

Of thrice three hundred thousand men.


Who bade you do't?


The same! the same!

Letters four do form his name.

He let me loose, and cried, Halloo !

To him alone the praise is due.


Thanks, sister, thanks! the men have bled,
Their wives and their children faint for bread.
I stood in a swampy field of battle;

With bones and skulls I made a rattle,

To frighten the wolf and carrion-crow
And the homeless dog-but they would not go.

So off I flew for how could I bear

To see them gorge their dainty fare?

I heard a groan and a peevish squall,
And through the chink of a cottage-wall-
Can you guess what I saw there?


Whisper it, sister! in our ear.



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