me believe this; nor is there any authority on earth (always
excepting the Dean of Christ Church) which could make it credible to
me. I am sick of Mr. Canning. There is not a "ha'porth of bread to
all this sugar and sack." I love not the cretaceous and incredible
countenance of his colleague. The only opinion in which I agree
with these two gentlemen is that which they entertain of each other.
I am sure that the insolence of Mr. Pitt, and the unbalanced
accounts of Melville, were far better than the perils of this new
ignorance:-


Nonne fuit satius, ristes Amaryllidis iras
Atque superba pati fastidia? nonne Menalcan?
Quamvis ille niger?


In the midst of the most profound peace, the secret articles of the
Treaty of Tilsit, in which the destruction of Ireland is resolved
upon, induce you to rob the Danes of their fleet. After the
expedition sailed comes the Treaty of Tilsit, containing no article,
public or private, alluding to Ireland. The state of the world, you
tell me, justified us in doing this. Just God! do we think only of
the state of the world when there is an opportunity for robbery, for
murder, and for plunder; and do we forget the state of the world
when we are called upon to be wise, and good, and just? Does the
state of the world never remind us that we have four millions of
subjects whose injuries we ought to atone for, and whose affections
we ought to conciliate? Does the state of the world never warn us
to lay aside our infernal bigotry, and to arm every man who
acknowledges a God, and can grasp a sword? Did it never occur to