"New Morality" by George Canning, Butchered and Edited

[dellery]

It's important to always understand our duty toward each of our nations. Obviously we must oppose horrors such as infanticide, however, this opposition is to be done "in house" and not in a way that leads us to being the oblivious tools of an enemy.

George Canning (not sure if he was Catholic, but certainly a strong anti-Jacobin) saw the same satanic revolutionary forces rising against his nation, fortunately for him, they weren't cloaked under the guise of a false revolutionary brand of Christianity i.e. +Williamson and the various spiritually regicidal sedevacantists.
Revolution is evil, it is the act of throwing down the Cross. Straying from the narrow via Crucis in favor of the wide and more traveled via Satana .

A spurious homage under Virtue's name,
Sprung from that parent of ten thousand crimes,
The new Philosophy of modern times,—
Yet, these may rouse thee!—With unsparing hand,
Oh, lash the vile impostors from the land!

First, stern Philanthropy:—not she, who dries
The orphan's tears, and wipes the widow's eyes;
Not she, who sainted Charity her guide,
Of British bounty pours the annual tide:—
But French Philanthropy;—whose boundless mind
Glows with the general love of all mankind;—
Philanthropy,—beneath whose baneful sway
Each patriot passion sinks, and dies away.

Taught in her school t'imbibe thy mawkish strain
Condorcet filter'd through the dregs of Paine,
Each pert adept disowns a [Catholic's] part,
And plucks the name of [Christ] from his heart.

What, shall, a name, a word, a sound controul
The aspiring thought, and cramp the expansive soul?
Shall one half-peopled Island's rocky round
A love, that glows for all Creation, bound?
And social charities contract the plan
Framed for thy Freedom, universal man?
—No—through the extended globe his feelings run
As broad and general as the unbounded sun!
No narrow bigot he;—his reason'd view
Thy interests, [America], rank with thine, Peru!
[Russia] at our doors, he sees no danger nigh,
But heaves for Turkey's woes the impartial sigh;
A steady Patriot of the World alone,
The Friend of every Country—but his own.

...Oh! for thy playful smile,—thy potent frown,—
To abash bold Vice, and laugh pert folly down!
So should the Muse in Humour's happiest vein,
With verse that flow'd in metaphoric strain,
And apt allusions to the rural trade,
Tell of what wood young Jacobins are made;
How the skill'd Gardener grafts with nicest rule
The slip of Coxcomb, on the stock of fool;
Forth in bright blossom bursts the tender sprig,
A thing to wonder at,[ perhaps a Whig,
Should tell, how wise each half-fledged pedant prates
Of weightiest matter, grave distinctions, states—
That rules of policy, and public good,
In Saxon times were rightly understood;
That Kings are proper, may be useful things,
But then some Gentlemen object to Kings;
That in all times the Minister's to blame;
That [American] Liberty's an empty name,
Till each fair burgh, numerically free,
Shall choose its Members by the Rule of Three.

So should the Muse, with verse in thunder clothed,
Proclaim the crimes by God and Nature loathed.
Which—(when fell poison revels in the veins—
That poison fell, which frantic Gallia drains
From the crude fruit of Freedom's blasted tree)
Blots the fair records of Humanity.

To feebler nations let proud [Russia] afford
Her damning choice,—the chalice or the sword,—
To drink or die; oh fraud! oh specious lie!
Delusive choice! for if they drink, they die.

The sword we dread not: of ourselves secure,
Firm were our strength, our Peace and Freedom sure,
Let all the world confederate all its powers,
"Be they not back'd by those that should be ours,"
High on [H]is [R]ock shall [America's] Genius stand,
Scatter the crowded hosts, and vindicate the land.

Guard we but our own hearts: with constant view
To ancient morals, ancient manners true,
True to their manlier virtues, such as nerved
Our father's breasts, and this proud [land] preserved
For many a rugged age:—and scorn the while,—
Each philosophic atheist's specious guile—
The soft seductions, the refinements nice,
Of gay morality, and easy vice:
So shall we brave the storm: our 'stablish'd power
Thy refuge, Europe, in some happier hour.

But, [Russian] in heart—tho' victory crowns our brow,
Low at our feet though prostrate nations bow,
Wealth gild our cities, commerce crown our shore
[Rome] may shine, but [Christianity] is no more.