so well, that I would rather live under the Turk, than under the Tyranny of George the Third. You practice the inhuman Cruelties and Oppressions of the Turks, and want the tolerating Spirit of the Turk, and if you are not soon checked through the native bravery of Englishmen, the whole Polity of savage Turkey, will be established by you in all its Parts and Barbarity; as if the Depopulation which is already so quick, and taking such dreadful Strides, were still too slow.
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TYRANTS are the common Destroyers of Mankind; they are for ever inventing now Machines of Cruelty, and will, till the Destruction of Mankind is completed. They seem to think they shall have Enemies as long as one Man remains, who cannot be made a SLAVE. But it is astonishing at first view, that ENGLISHMEN should have so long borne your Tyranny, Oppressions, and the unrelenting Slaughter of their Fellow Subjects:—But, alas! who knows not the force of Corruption, Delusion, and standing Armies.
Oh Liberty! Oh Servitude! How detestable are the different Sounds! LIBERTY is Salvation in Politicks, as SLAVERY is Reprobation; neither is there any other Distinction but that of Saint and Devil, between the Champion of the one and of the other.
No one can sufficiently shew the glorious Advantages of LIBERTY, nor set off the dreadful Mischiefs of raging, relentless, consuming TYRANNY.—A Task to which no human Mind is equal; for neither the sublimest wits of Antiquity, nor the brightest Genius’s of late or modern Times, assisted with all the Powers of Rhetoric, and all the Stimulations of Poetic fire, with the warmest and boldest Figures in Language, ever did, ever could, or ever can, describe and highten sufficiently, the Beauty of the one, or the Deformity of the other: Language fails in it, and Words are too weak.
Those who do not Groan under the Yoke of heavy and pointed Vassalage, cannot possibly have Images equal to a Calamity which they do not feel; and those which feel it, are stupefied by it, and their Minds depressed; nor can they have Conceptions large, bright, and comprehensive enough, to be fully Sensible of their own wretched Condition; much less can they Paint it in proper Colours to others. The People of England, Sir, who enjoy the Precious, Lovely, and invaluable blessing of LIBERTY, know that nothing can be paid too dear to purchase and preserve it. Without it the World is a Wilderness, and Life a Miserable Burthen: Death is a Tribute we all owe to Nature, and must pay; and it is infinitely preferable, in any shape to an ignominious Life: Nor can we restore our Being back again into the Hands of our great Creator, with more Glory to him, more Honour to ourselves, or more Advantage to
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Mankind, than in Defence of all that is valuable, religious, and praise worthy upon Earth.
How execrable then, and infamous are the Wreches, who for a few precarious momentary, and perhaps imaginary Advantages, would rob their Country for ever of every thing that can render Life desirable; and for a little tinsel Pageantry and survile Homage, unworthy of honest Men, and hated by wise Men, would involve Millions of their Fellow Creatures in lasting Misery, Bondage and Woe; such unnatural royal Parricides, unworthy of the human Shape and Name, would fill up the Measure of their Barbarity by entailing Poverty, Chains, and Sorrow, upon their own Posterity. And, Sir, you ought to remember such Tyrants have UNPITIED, suffered in their OWN PERSONS, the sad effects of those cruel Councils and Schemes, which they intended for the Ruin of all but themselves and their Minions; and have JUSTLY fallen into that Pit they had TRAITEROUSLY digged for others.
He that can levy WAR with all Mankind,
Can cut his Subjects Throats, and fell his Friend;
Ravish the Chaste, the sanctifi’d Prophane,
Can pull down RIGHT, and wrong by FORCE maintain;
Mortgage his FAITH, and trample on his WORD,
And hew his Crown out by his LAWLESS Sword.
Like Nero suck the Blood that gave him Life,
And search engend’ring Nature with his Knife:
Like Cortez, can a hundred Millions slay,
Dream Death by Night, and finish it by Day:
Like pious Peter, cant of Heaven’s commands,
Pray with his Lips, and Murther with his Hands.
Can Sleep with BLOOD, and never start at CRIMES,
And make his Mischiefs like his Pow’r supreme.
By JUSTICE, sell OPPRESSION, bribe the LAW,
Exalt the Rogue, and Keep the Just in awe;
Embrace the GUILTY, Innocents Condemn,
And Execute without pretence of CRIME.
Can sacrifice WHOLE NATIONS to his Lust,
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With Pleasure KILL, and think that Pleasure just:
Can Burn and Sing, dance to the waving Flame,
And in his country’s Ashes raise his Fame;
Insult the Wretched, trample on the Poor,
And mock the Miseries Mankind endure;
Can ravage Countries, Property devour,
And trample Law beneath the Feet of Pow’r.
Scorn the restraint of OATHS, and promis’d Right,
And ravel Compacts in the Peoples fight;
With Indignation scorn to reign by Rules,
That King’s a TYRANT, and the People Fools.
Printed and published for the Authors, by T. W. SHAW, in Fleet-Street, opposite Anderton’s Coffee House, where Letters to the Publisher, will be thankfully received.
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THE
CRISIS
| NUMBER XXI | To be continued Weekly. |
| SATURDAY, JUNE 10, 1775 | [Price Two-pence Half-penny. |
To Lord NORTH
My LORD,
IN the fewest Words I can possibly use (for I will not waste many upon you, who are as CALLOUS as your Tyrannic Master) I most heartily congratulate your Lordship upon the honourable Retreat of your unnatural and savage Mercenaries under the Command of your Bully, Colonel SMITH.1 I am told your Master LAUGHS at the Event; you, who know him, know to which of his amiable Qualities we are to impute this heroic Merriment; whether to his BRUTALITY, his STUPIDITY, or HYPOCRISY. Let
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him remember, and do you tremble, when I tell your Lordship, that neither of those Qualities will avail him in the Field, however
