Portland Gazette, And Maine Advertiser

Interesting Political Miscellany.

A writer in the Providence (R. I.) Gazette under the signature of "Dion," addressing his fellow-citizens of New-England, on the recent alarming situation of our Country, closes a production which would honor the pen of a Burke, in the following beautiful and descriptive paragraphs.

He speaks in a patriot-soothing voice, and warns his Countrymen to beware of Napoleonism, that devastating French influence which has deluged kingdoms in blood.--Impartial Observer

"TO what but to a mysterious and unjust foreign influence can you attribute the connexion which your government has endeavored to form with France? Is it required by justice? Justice to Napoleon! Profane not the sacred name of Justice by the idea.--There is justice in Heaven.--Beware lest it descend in unerring bolts upon the guilty nation which impiously assists the destroyer of mankind.

"Will you say, that an alliance with Napoleon will produce some important and lasting advantages to this nation? Deluded men! Cast your thoughts across the wide Atlantic, and traverse in idea the continent of Europe. Who is she, that, in the gloomy mantle of woe, advances towards you with a mournful pace, and fixes on you a hopeless eye of misery? Her name is Switzer-land--Once, with exultation, she bound the cap of liberty upon her brows, and looked abroad with a countenance that diffused the joys of independence. Profusion every where met her footsteps, and the blessing of Heaven's peace encircled and protected her.

Now, her face is darkened with sorrow, and her tears fall cold upon her bosom. She leads you to Mount Blanc's aerial top, and looks upon the scenes below; they are gloomy and desolate. She directs your view to her lakes; they are tinged with red. She points to her vales; they are flooded with the blood of her sons. Do you ask, what fell destroyer has produced this scene of horror? Her eye is fixed upon Napoleon, while with an impressive voice she warns you to beware.

"Who is this that rises from the sea with a vacant and unmeaning countenance, and casts about her a look of senseless despair? It is Holland.--Worn down and despaired by the galling chains of her oppressors, the flush of sensibility has left her cheek, and she has forgotten to feel. Her freedom was procured by a struggle of thirty years, and, during the revolutions of nearly two hundred summers, she preserved it with enthusiastic love. Her cities raised their lofty spires from the midst of the Ocean, and echoed with the sounds of industry; while the wealth of distant nations floated upon the bosom of her seas. But she joined her hand to the proffered hand of a dissembling tyrant, and that moment was a slave. Do you demand, who has impoverished her cities, plundered her fields, dishonored her matrons, and drawn forth her youth to ambitious wars, from which there is no return? The question has roused her from insensibility. She points to Napoleon, and wildly calls to you, beware.

"Who is it that advances with troubled and unequal steps, her hair scattered by the wind, and her eye shooting the horrors of remorse? It is Prussia. Actuated by hopes of reward, and fearing the tyrant's power, she yielded him a guilty assistance. Her sufferings now requite her baseness, and prove to the world that there is no faith among the unjust. Let the miseries she endures from her oppressor, and from her stings of conscience, solemnly warn you to beware!

"Who is she that stands with an air of intrepidity, in one hand brandishing a spear, in the other waving a banner? On her head is the helmet of war, and lightning is in her eyes? It is Spain. In a moment of peace, while reposing in confidence upon the security of an alliance, she has discovered, in her pretended friend, her BETRAYER. As one stung by an unheeded serpent, she has started with indignation at the insult, and thrown resistance into her sinews. Blood flows around her, and she sees her cities sacked by a merciless soldiery. She points to the bodies of her heroes, that strew her plains and commands you to beware!

Beyond is Italy, mourning over the sad relics of her ancient glory. Her ravaged plains, that once bloomed in the luxuriant pride of spontaneous profusion, her prostrate columns, her smoking temples, & her bloodstained bridges, are constantly warning you to beware of Napoleon!!

"My countrymen, whoever and wherever you are, that have viewed with indifference the measures of your government, and have suffered yourselves to be carried whithersoever they would lead you, let the hints I have here offered rouse you to reflection. From the dark circle of collected dangers that surround her sacred head, is heard THE VOICE OF YOUR COUNTRY. She tells you, that the UNITED STRENGTH Of her SONS ALONE can rescue her: And she solemnly bids you remember, that the man who neglects to exert himself for the rescue of his country from destruction, differs in no degree of guilt from him who fixes a dagger in her heart!!"