“Nor shall the lion, wont of old to reign
  Despotick o’er the desolated plain,
  Henceforth, th’ inviolable bloom invade,
  Or dare to murmur in the flow’ry glade,”

in which the lion that used, at pleasure, to lay the pastures waste, is represented, as not daring to touch the lilies, or murmur at their growth!  The lion, it is true, is one of the supporters of the arms of England, and may, therefore, figure our countrymen, who have, in ancient times, made France a desert.  But can it be said, that the lion dares not murmur or rage, (for fremere may import both,) when it is evident, that, for many years, this whole kingdom has murmured, however, it may be, at present, calm and secure, by its confidence in the wisdom of our politicians, and the address of our negotiators: 

  “Ante oculos natos
  Calceatos et cruciatos
  Jam feret ignavus,
  Vetitaque libidine pravus.”

  “His tortur’d sons shall die before his face,
  While he lies melting in a lewd embrace.”

Here are other things mentioned of the lion, equally unintelligible, if we suppose them to be spoken of our nation, as that he lies sluggish, and depraved with unlawful lusts, while his offspring is trampled and tortured before his eyes.  But in what place can the English be said to be trampled or tortured?  Where are they treated with injustice or contempt?  What nation is there, from pole to pole, that does not reverence the nod of the British king?  Is not our commerce unrestrained?  Are not the riches of the world our own?  Do not our ships sail unmolested, and our merchants traffick in perfect security?  Is not the very name of England treated by foreigners in a manner never known before?  Or if some slight injuries have been offered; if some of our petty traders have been stopped, our possessions threatened; our effects confiscated; our flag insulted; or our ears cropped, have we lain sluggish and unactive?  Have not our fleets been seen in triumph at Spithead?  Did not Hosier visit the Bastimentos, and is not Haddock now stationed at Port Mahon?

  “En quoque quod mirum,
  Quod dicas denique dirum,
  Sanguinem equus sugit,
  Neque bellua victa remugit!”

  “And, yet more strange! his veins a horse shall drain,
  Nor shall the passive coward once complain!”

It is farther asserted, in the concluding lines, that the horse shall suck the lion’s blood.  This is still more obscure than any of the rest; and, indeed, the difficulties I have met with, ever since the first mention of the lion, are so many and great, that I had, in utter despair of surmounting them, once desisted from my design of publishing any thing upon this subject; but was prevailed upon by the importunity of some friends, to whom I can deny nothing, to resume my design; and I must own, that nothing animated me so much as the hope, they flattered me with, that my essay might be inserted in the Gazetteer, and, so, become of service to my country.