"sent into hopeless captivity," and invokes the murdered names of those children of the state, who "armed to defend a beloved parent, and an injured country!" Even Vetus shrinks from the enormity of such inconsistencies, and excuses himself by saying, "Do I feel the spontaneous and unprovoked desire that such a mass of evil should be perpetuated for any portion of mankind? God forbid. But it is, I conscientiously believe, a question, which of these countries shall destroy the other. In that case, my part is taken—France must be ruined, to save our native country from being ruined. If this be perpetual war, I cannot help it. Perpetual war has little terror, when perpetual bondage threatens us." Here then our bane and antidote are both before us: perpetual war or perpetual bondage;—a pleasant alternative!—but it is an alternative of Vetus's making, and we shall not, if we can help it, submit to either of his indispensable conditions. We shall not learn of him, for "his yoke is not easy, nor his burden light." If this be our inevitable lot, "he cannot help it." No; but he can help laying the blame of his own irritable and mischievous conclusions on Nature and Providence; or at least we think it our duty to guard ourselves and others against the fatal delusion.
ILLUSTRATIONS OF VETUS.
"Take him, and cut him out in little stars."
We undertook, some time ago, the task of ascertaining the true value of this writer's reasoning, by removing the cumbrous load of words which oppress his understanding, as well as that of his readers; and we find that "our occupation is not yet gone." His last letter, indeed, furnishes us with comparatively slender materials. His style is considerably abated. With Bottom in the play, he may be said to "aggravate his voice so, that he roars
