bolster up into a system, with all the logic and rhetoric he is master of. It is true, this kind of patriotism is not the philanthropy of Anacharsis Cloots; it has nothing to do with philanthropy in any shape, but it is a vile compound of "the jargon of metaphysics, with the vulgar notions of a printer's devil." It is an intense union of the grossness and narrowness of ignorance with the dangerous refinement of the most abstracted speculation. It is passion and prejudice, inflamed by philosophy, and philosophy distorted by passion and prejudice.
After his cold exordium on the Revolution in Holland, our consistent politician enters with warmth on Lord Castlereagh's speech on the subsidiary treaties, in which he finds a But before the word Peace, which has a most happy efficacy in healing the wounds inflicted on his tortured apprehensions, by the explicit, unqualified declaration of Lord Liverpool in the other House.
"After describing the laudable solicitude of Ministers for the attainment of that first of earthly goods, peace," (we thought it had ranked last in the mind of Vetus) "his Lordship added what was worth all the rest—BUT we must have a secure peace. We must not only recollect with whom we contend, but with whom we negociate, and never grant to such an enemy conditions, which under the name of peace, would disarm this nation, and expose her to contingent dangers." (To place any nation out of the reach of contingent dangers in peace or war is, we imagine, an undertaking beyond even the calibre of Lord Castlereagh's talents as a statesman.) "These," proceeds Vetus, "were nearly the words; they certainly do not compromise his meaning." (Our author cannot be much mistaken in attributing to his Lordship any words which seeming to have some meaning, in reality have none.) "Here then the noble Secretary has chased away every doubtful expression of his colleague." ("Why so,—this horrible shadow" of peace "being gone," Vetus "is himself again.")
"The sentiment delivered by the sovereign on the throne is now given to us with a construction, at which we need no longer be alarmed. I ask only that secure peace,—a peace consistent
