THE moment the Gallic usurpers had mur­dered their sovereign, and, from the vilest walks in life, mounted into his seat, they assum­ed the tone of masters to the government of the United States. Their style has sometimes soften­ed, it is true; but the general tenor of it has re­gularly approached towards that loftiest note, that ne plus ultra of insolence, which it attained in Citizen Adet's last communications.

In offering my sentiments on these arrogant effusions of upstart tyranny, I feel an unusual de­gree [Page 6] of diffidence: a diffidence that does not arise from any fear I entertain of the Citizen or his factious adherents, or even of the "terrible nation," to use his own words, of which he was lately the worthy representative; but from a con­sciousness of my inability to do justice to the subject. The keenest satire, were I master of it, would fall blunted from such hardened impu­dence, such pure unadulterated brass, as it would here have to encounter. Terms of reproach are not yet invented, capable of expressing the re­sentment that every man, who has the least respect for the government, ought to feel on this occasion.

Thus voluntarily to interfere in a correspond­ence between a foreign minister and the officers of state, might, under other circumstances, ap­pear rather a bold intrusion; but, the Citizen's having communicated his papers to the people, at the same time, if not before, they reached the Secretary of State, happily precludes the neces­sity of an apology.

The notes on which I am about to remark, and to which, collected together, I have affixed the title of Diplomatic Blunderbuss, are intended chief­ly to notify to the people of America, that the French rulers are angry with the Federal Go­vernment, and that, in consequence of this an­ger, they have ordered Citizen Adet to suspend his functions as minister, till the government shall alter its conduct, or, in the pedagogue style, mend its manners.

In the 44th page of the Blunderbuss, the Citi­zen makes a recapitulation of the offences that [Page 7] have brought on us this dreadful chastisement, this political excommunication; and it will not appear a little surprising, that some of them have existed ever since the birth of the French Repub­lic, notwithstanding the love and esteem this out­landish lady has ever expressed towards her sister America.

These offences amounting to seven in number, are as follows:

• 1. The Federal Government put in question, whether it should execute the treaties, or receive the agents of the rebel and proscrib­ed princes.
• 2. It made a proclamation of insidious neu­trality.
• 3. By its chicaneries, it abandoned French pri­vateers to its courts of justice.
• 4. It eluded the amicable mediation of the French Republic for breaking the chains of the American citizens in Algiers.
• 5. It allowed the French colonies to be declar­ed in a state of blockade, and allowed the citizens of America to be interdicted the right of trading to them.
• 6. It eluded all the advances made by the French Republic for renewing the treaties of commerce upon a more favourable footing to both nations.
• 7. It anticipated Great Britain, by solicit­ing a treaty, in which treaty it prostituted [Page 8] its neutrality; it sacrificed France to her enemies, or rather, looking upon her as obliterated from the chart [map] of the world, it forgot the services she had render­ed it, and threw aside the duty of gratitude, as if ingratitude was a governmental duty.

These are the heinous crimes of which the Fe­deral Government stands charged by the sultans of France. Let us now, if they will permit us, examine these crimes, one by one, and see whe­ther the President, and Messrs. Hamilton, Knox, Jay, Pickering and Wolcot, really deserve to be guillotined, or not.

‘ 1. The Federal Government put in question, whether it should execute the treaties, or receive the agents of the rebel and proscribed princes.’

The Citizen has made a small mistake in draw­ing up this charge, owing, I suppose, to his ig­norance of that excellent rule of the English language, which requires every thing to be called by its right name. I would have worded it thus: ‘The Federal Government put in question, whe­ther it should execute the treaties, made between America and the king of France, with his re­bel subjects who had just murdered him, or re­ceive the agents of his lawful successors, the Princes whom those murderers had had the au­dacity to pretend to proscribe.’

With this trifling alteration, I am ready to ad­mit the truth of the charge, but am very far from admitting it to be a crime. The king of France was murdered on the 21st of January, 1793. In­formation [Page 9] of this event could not be received here much before the 18th of April, and it was on that day the President submitted to his coun­cil, the questions of which the above charge forms the substance.

The treaties here spoken of, were made with Louis XVI. whose minister, at the time these questions were proposed for consideration, was resident at Philadelphia. The President knew, indeed, that the king was dead, but he, at the same time, knew that the treaties were binding on the United States in behalf of his lawful ‘heirs and successors,’ and he certainly knew that Petion, Danton, Roland, Clavière, Condorcet, Brissot, and the innumerable horde of bloody usurpers who have come after them, were not those ‘heirs and successors?’ He also knew, that even the whole French nation, could not, in the sense of the treaties, become the "heirs and successors" of Louis XVI. and, though treaties, made with a monarch, may remain in force with the nation under a new form of government, yet this is, as most assuredly it ought to be, entirely at the op­tion of the other contracting party. The Ameri­can government had, therefore, an indisputed right to refuse to execute, in behalf of the French nation, treaties made with their sovereign alone.

If we turn back a little, we shall find this very audacious and unprincipled Convention, whose minister was coming to Philadelphia, publicly de­liberating, ‘whether the treaties, made with the tyrant Louis, were binding on the regenerated nation, or not.’ This question was determined in the negative, and accordingly the treaty with [Page 10] Holland was immediately violated. And yet they will not permit the poor government of America to debate about any such thing, nor even to talk of it in secret, though the result be in their own favour! Let it be remembered too, that Genet came authorized to make new treaties, a pretty certain proof, that the Convention did not call in question the right of the government to refuse to adhere to the old ones. It is a proof of more; it is a proof that they expected that it would make the refusal. Would to God their expectation had been realized!

I will not go so far as to say, that the Federal Government was fully justified in its decision on this important subject; but I insist that its con­duct evinced the utmost partiality for the new Republic. When Genet arrived here, it was far from being ascertained that the whole, or even a majority, of the French nation, approved of the murder of their sovereign, or had abandoned the cause of his successors. The government of America, had, but a few months before, beheld them raising their hands to heaven, and swearing to die, if necessary, in defence of their king. Their constitution, establishing a hereditary monar­chy, had been voluntarily formed, and solemnly sanctioned by the whole nation, amidst festivals and Te-Deums, and had been officially communicated to the world. Each member of the Assembly, as well as every individual Frenchman, had repeated­ly sworn ‘to maintain this constitution with all his might.’ Laws had been made, punishing with transportation all who refused to take the oath, and till then unheard-of cruelties had been exer­cised on the non-jurors. After all this, was it [Page 11] astonishing that the Federal Government should, for a moment, hesitate to believe, that the nation was really become a Republic, and that this con­stitution, about which there had been so much noise and rejoicing and feasting and singing and swearing should be so completely destroyed as to leave neither remnant nor rag visible? Must they be looked upon as the enemies of France, because they did not yield implicit credit to him who first told them, that the very men who had declared the king's person to be ‘sacred and inviolable,’ had dipped their hands in his blood; and that the people, who had solemnly vowed to maintain the decree with their lives, had basely applauded the sanguinary deed?— It is not the final determination of the American government, for that was in favour of the Con­vention, but it is its hesitation, of which Citizen Adet complains; as if he had said: ‘How could you, for a moment, doubt of the faithlessness of my countrymen? How durst you hesitate to think them, what they have since so fully proved themselves, a horde of traitors, perjur­ers and assassins?’—If the Citizen will but forgive the government this time, I will answer for them they will never doubt on this subject again.

But, if it was so very natural for the Federal Government to view the French in their true character, was not that a reason, on the other hand, for deliberating whether their republican minister should be received in preference to the agents of the Princes? The government had the interests of America to attend to in this impor­tant decision, as well as those of France. A [Page 12] weighty debt was due from this country, not to the regenerated nation nor to its bloodthirsty ty­rants, but to Louis XVI his heirs and successors. A minister from the Republic once admitted, a claim of the interest of the debt could not be re­fused; and if the volatile and perjured nation, had recalled the successor of their sovereign, would not that successor have demanded, and with justice, a second payment of such interest? This has not yet happened, but it does not follow that it might not have happened. In the common affairs of men, he who has been once convicted of perjury, is never after looked upon as credi­ble; and the same rule is applicable to societies. It is entirely owing to the want of good faith among the allies, and to the dastardly conduct of the Princes themselves, neither of which could well be foreseen at the time, that a Bourbon is not now on the throne of France: so that, the Federal Government, instead of discovering a hostile disposition towards the Republic, certainly hazarded much in its favour.

But, considerations of this nature have no weight with the new sovereigns of France. Their object in bringing forward the charge at this time, is, not to impress on the minds of the people that their government acted unjustly or unwisely, but that it leaned to the side of monarchy rather than to that of republicanism. That this is false is clear from the result; but were the insinuation just, had the government expressed a wish to see such a monster of a republic as that of France crushed in its birth, the wish would have been a most pious one.

[Page 13] Republicanism is become, for what reason I know not, synonymous with freedom and happi­ness, and there are thousands among us who pre­tend to believe, notwithstanding the terrible ex­ample before their eyes, that men cannot be en­slaved under a form of government that is called republican. Mr. Adams, in his Defence of the American Constitutions, Vol. I. page 87, says: ‘Our countrymen will never run delirious after a word or a name. The name republic is given to things in their nature as different and contradic­tory as light and darkness, truth and falsehood, virtue and vice, happiness and misery. There are free republics, and republics as tyrannical as an oriental despotism.’—How fully is the truth of these observations exemplified in the republics of America and France! But even this wise and deep-sighted civilian could not imagine that his countrymen would ever run delirious after a name; much less could he imagine, that he should live to see many of them extolling, as the paragon of republics, a system of tyranny that has all the appearance of being an instrument of the wrath of heaven.

I shall dismiss this first charge against the go­vernment, with observing, that the meanness equals the impudence of making it. We have seen the French murder their king, whose greatest fault was his confidence in their fidelity; we have seen them drag his headless and bloody carcass from the scaffold, throw it into a pit without the rites of sepulture, and, to deprive it of even the privilege of rotting, consume it with hot lime. Yet, after all this, they are not ashamed to com­plain, that they were not, without hesitation, ad­mitted [Page 14] as heirs his successors! They are not ashamed to enjoy the benefits resulting from a contract, made with the very man the anniversa­ry of whose murder they celebrate! Like the treacherous labourers, they first slay the lord of the vineyard and then seize on his possessions, his titles and his deeds.—Men may be unjust and tyrannical, they may even be cruel and ferocious, without being mean. There are many assassins who would scorn to dress themselves in the robes of their victim. But, to unite vices seemingly incompatible, is the characteristic of the regene­rated French: in all they say and do, there is such a mixture of licentiousness and servility, of frivolity and ferocity, of duplicity, insolence and meanness, that we know not whether to de­spise or hate them most.

‘ 2. The government made a proclamation of insidious neutrality.’

This charge is as false as it is rude. I would beg this well-informed and polite citizen, to name one single instance of the insincerity of the Federal Government, in enforcing this proclama­tion. As applied to the conduct of some part of the people, indeed, the neutrality might be called insidious; but then, this insidiousness operated in favour of the French and not against them. There were many who highly approved of the proclamation, and who at the same time actually made war upon the enemies of France. An ar­my of Americans, under the authority of Genet, invaded the Spanish territories, while privateers were fitted out to cruize on the British; cargoes of ammunition and arms were shipped off, and [Page 15] thanksgivings, and other public demonstrations of joy, were heard from one end of the Union to the other. The bells of the good old Christian church, opposite me, fired rounds to celebrate the inundation of the Atheistical barbarians into Holland; and the English flag was burnt at Phi­ladelphia, on the public square, as a sacrifice to the goddess of French liberty. These latter cir­cumstances are trifling in themselves, 'tis true, and certainly excited nothing but contempt and ridicule, in the minds of those whom they were intended to insult; but, the question is (and it is to ask this question that they are here mentioned), what would the French, that "terrible nation," have said, had these insults, these marks of an insidious neutrality been offered to them? Would they not have sent their fleets and knocked down our towns and burnt our ships? No; the enemy would have stopped them on the way; but they would have stirred hell to seek for the means of vengeance. What they had wanted in deeds, they would have made up for in words. Every opprobrious term in their new-fangled vocabula­ry would have been heaped on our heads. How many sacres mâtins and jean-f—tres and f—tus chiens and libertécides and neutralitécides would they have called the poor Anglo-Americans, in the course of a Decade! Instead of bell, book and candle, they would have cursed us with all the gods of their heathenish calendar; and, which would have been infinitely worse, they would have cursed us with the teazing remonstrances of an impertinent minister.

Where a breach of neutrality, cognizable by the laws, appeared, the Federal Government al­ways [Page 16] did its utmost to bring the offenders to jus­tice, and it is for this very reason, that the late diplomatic Mounseer has dared to accuse it of an insidious neutrality. After the proclamation was issued, and Genet saw that there was no hope of setting it aside by inciting the people to rebellion, he feigned an acquiescence, and declared that the Convention did not wish the prosperity of their dear brethren of America to be interrupted by a participation in the war. It entered into his delirious brain, that the proclamation was to be a mere cloak, under which he thought to enlist as many soldiers and arm as many privateers as he could pay for. Such a neutrality would, in­deed, have been more advantageous to France than an open declaration of war on the part of the United States; but when he found that the government was resolved to enforce the procla­mation; when he found that his pirates were not permitted to rob and plunder with impunity, and that the American harbours were not to serve them as hiding places, whence they might sally out upon poor old John Bull, as their great pre­decessor did upon the beeves of Hercules; then he began to foam and sacre dieu against the liber­técide government, for ‘neutralizing the zeal of the citizens, and punishing the generous children of liberty, for flying to the relief of their mo­ther, when she was upon the point of violation by a horde of crowned monsters.’

As Citizen Adet seems to have been furnished with memorandums concerning the conduct of all the State Governments, with respect to the vessels of the belligerent nations; as he must be in possession of the French archives, those ever­lasting [Page 17] records of poor Mr. Randolph's precious confessions, and of the services of all those who have deserved well of the terrible Republic, it was rather ungrateful of him, to overlook the alertness of that vigilant and virtuous and chaste and incorruptible republican, Governor Mifflin, at the time of laying the embargo. That vene­rable old Democrat, the father-in-law of Citizen Genet, who has happily given place to a better man, might also have merited encomium on the same account. With what care did they watch! With what zeal did they call out the militia, and man whale boats, and run and bustle about, to prevent the escape of vessels bound to British ports! Their diligence in the discharge of this part of their duty was not a whit inferior to that of those useful auxiliaries of justice, which the rudeness of these latter times has styled thief-catchers; while the vessels bound to the land of Messidor and Floreal and Vendimaire, &c. slipped off "in a dark night;" and while, in another quarter, a whole fleet sailed for this land of starv­ation, though the embargo had been laid ten days before. Had the British minister complained of a breach of neutrality here, he might have been heard with patience; but, if even he had had the assurance to make use of the word insidious, he would have merited a peremptory order to pack up.

The only breach of neutrality with which the Federal Government can possibly be charged, is, the liquidation of the French debt. This favour, as beneficial to France as it was apparently ha­zardous to the United States, would have been acknowledged by Citizen Adet and his masters, [Page 18] had they not been as ignorant of the law of na­tions as of the laws of politeness and decency. Citizen Genet, when he opened the negociation, promised that every farthing of the debt, if li­quidated, should be expended in the country, and, for once, I believe, contrary to the German pro­verb, the Frenchman kept his word; for, except what was retained for the unavoidable daily hire of Poor Richard, and some few other items, I be­lieve every single sous of it went among the Flour-Merchants.—What think you, Mr. Dallas? Come now, d—n it, tell the truth for once in your life. Be frank with your countryman, and we'll make up all old grievances.—Well, you may be as fulky as you please: I believe it; or your friend Fauchet never would have stood, like a bilk­ed cully, with his pocket turned inside out, when he could have purchased a delicious civil war with a few thousand dollars.—It is an old saying, and all old sayings are true; that what is got over the devil's back is spent under his belly; and so it happened with this debt. The givers and the receivers were just of a stamp, and one had just as much right to the money as the other.

But, to return to my subject: whether this li­quidation were a breach of neutrality, in a rigor­ous sense, or not, every real friend of America must rejoice at its being effected. It was one ef­fort towards shaking off a dependence that yet hangs about our necks like a millstone. One of our poets has called a dun ‘a horrid monster, hated of gods and men.’ Exactly such was Genet, when he first arrived, and such would have been his successors, had not the clamorous creditors (or rather claimants) been silenced by a [Page 19] discharge of the debt. This the government un­doubtedly foresaw, and therefore wisely resolved to relieve us from their importunities. But there is another debt of enormous magnitude, that still remains; I mean the debt of gratitude due from this country to the regenerated French. This we shall never liquidate, while there is a Frenchman left to ask, or an American to give. It is incal­culable in its amount, and eternal in its duration; we will therefore leave it to pass down the stream of time along with the insidious neutrality.

3. The Government, by its chicaneries, aban­doned French privateers to its courts of Justice.

This is, I tremblingly presume, the "terrible" style, and is therefore looked upon as sufferable in a minister from a "terrible nation;" but I am pretty confident, it would be suffered with impu­nity in no other. Some writer on the belles let­tres, I believe it is Burke, observes, that terror is a property of the sublime, and I am sure that insolence is a property of the terrible. I know not precisely what punishment the law of nations has awarded for such language, but I should ima­gine it can be nothing short of breaking of bones. A good Irish sheeleley or Devonshire quarterstaff seems much better calculated for answering a charge like this than a pen.—The chicaneries of the government!—Abandoning privateers to courts of Justice!—If this does not deserve a rib-roasting, I do not know what does. If this goes off so, then I say there is no such thing as justice on this side the grave. Why, I have seen many as good a man as Citizen Adet, aye and as faith­ful to his king too, flogged till the blood ran into [Page 20] his shoes, for giving language, a hundred times less insolent than this, to a lance corporal.

Does the General Government of America then act by chicane? Does General Washington, whose integrity, whose inflexible firmness and whose undaunted bravery have been acknowledged and admired as far as his name has reached, merit to be put on a level with a miserable pettifogger? And is a cause abandoned, because it is submitted to an American court of judicature? Are both judges and juries in this country so very very cor­rupt, that no justice can be expected from their decisions? Are we so nearly like Sodom and Gomorrah that twelve honest men are not to be found among us?

An accusation may be so completely absurd and impudent, that no one can attempt to refute it, without sinking, in some degree, towards a level with the accuser; and, as I have no incli­nation to do this, I leave the present one to be answered by the indignation of the reader.

‘ 4. The Government eluded the amicable media­tion of the French Republic for breaking the chains of the American citizens in Algiers.’

Every one who recollects the anxiety which the President has ever expressed on the subject of a treaty with Algiers, the innumerable obstacles he had to surmount, and the enormous expense by means of which it was at last effected, need not be told that this charge is as ill-founded as the preceding ones. But, as it is intended to bring forward to the people a proof of the Friendship [Page 21] of France, at the moment her hatred and hostility are evident to every eye, in this point of view it may be worth while to hear what the Citizen has to say in support of it.

He tells us ( Diplomatic Blunderbuss, page 66), that ‘the French government, zealous of giving to the United States proofs of its attachment, had commenced negociations with the regency of Algiers, in order to put an end to the war which that power was making on the commerce of the United States.’ That the minister for foreign affairs instructed Fauchet (the very Fau­chet who expressed his regret that the Western rebellion did not succeed) to communicate to the Federal Government the steps which that of France had taken in this respect, which he did in the following terms, on the 4th of June, 1794.

The secretary of state replied to him on the 6th June, 1794, by a letter of which the following is an extract.

‘Your other letter of the 4th of June, is a powerful demonstration of the interest which the Republic of France takes in our welfare. I will frankly communicate to you our measures and expectations with regard to Algiers; but as you will so soon receive the detail of those measures, which your government has pursued in our be­half, it will be better perhaps to postpone our [Page 23] interview on this matter, until the intelligence which you further expect, shall arrive.’

First, observe here, that Adet tells the people, that somebody in France, no matter who, had actually commenced negociations with the regency of Algiers in behalf of their countrymen. To prove this, he quotes a letter of Fauchet, in which this latter begs to call to the recollection of the Fe­deral Government "the steps which are to be taken," and not the steps which are taken. Af­terwards Fauchet, presuming upon what has been done since his latest instructions came away, talks in the very same letter, about measures already taken; but is unable to say any thing about the nature or success of them, until he receives fur­ther information from Europe, which he makes no doubt is upon the point of arriving.—Now, is it not very surprising that this further information never came to hand, from that day to this? And is it not still more surprising, that no traces of this friendly mediation, of these steps that were to be taken, and those measures that were already taken, should ever be discovered by the American En­voy to Algiers? When the French do what they can possibly construe into an act of generosi­ty, they are not very apt to keep it hidden from the world, or to suffer the obliged party to remain unreminded of it.

But, let us hear how Master Adet accounts for his worthy predecessor's receiving no further infor­mation relative to this generous interference in our behalf. Fauchet told the government he was in daily expectation of it, and yet it never came. How will Citizen Adet get out of this? We have [Page 24] him fairly hemmed up in a corner here, and he has a devilish deal more wit than I take him to have, if he gets himself decently out of it.— He tells us that the French government had tak­en measures for the relief of the captives, that the mediation was in a charming train, that Fau­chet communicated this pleasing intelligence to the President, who waited with anxious expecta­tion for further information, which Fauchet hour­ly expected to receive, and that ‘ then Mr. Jay was charged to negociate with the British go­vernment.’—Well; and what then?— Why, ‘and then Citizen Fauchet did not receive any communication on the subject.’—What? —O, oh! and so then, it seems, Mr. Jay's be­ing appointed to negociate a treaty of amity and commerce with king George, prevented the agree­able information, ‘the facts proving the sincerity of the French protestations of friendship,’ from being received! And did so completely do away all those steps which were to be taken, and which were taking, and which had already been taken, that they were never after heard of! Sur­prising, that the United States should have chil­led, should have perished even, the zealous in­terest that France took in their distresses, merely because they wished to avoid still greater distresses, by an amicable negociation elsewhere!

Let us recur to time also. A lie that is bound down to dates is difficult to be successfully kept up.

The committee of public safety (it should have been called the committee of public misery) instructed Citizen Fauchet on the 5th of January, 1794, to inform the American government, that [Page 25] they were about taking means for "breaking the chains of our captive citizens in Algiers." This "proof of the protestations of their friendship" did not come to Fauchet's hands till the 4th of the ensuing June, just five months, to an hour; and when it did at last arrive, Citizen Fauchet, could not tell by what route!—A pretty story this, and a pretty sort of Ambassador to receive dis­patches of such importance, without knowing by whom or by what route. Let Citizen Adet and his worthy predecessor, Father Joseph, go and im­pose such humbug tales upon the poor stupid en­slaved Hollanders and Genevese, they will find few such gulls here.

Again: how could the appointment of Mr. Jay prevent the reception of further information, if such information was daily expected? Robe­spierre and his bloody colleagues, who felt such a tender concern for the captives, could not hear of this appointment sooner than about two months after it took place; the information, promised, as they say, on the 5th of January, must therefore have been on the way, and what, then, I would be glad to know, prevented its coming to hand? That it never did come to hand, Master Adet has confessed, and we must inevitably conclude there-from, that it was never either promised on that side the water or expected on this.—These dates form a net in which the Citizen has hampered himself. He had got the Messidors and the Fructi­dors into his brains, and could he have got them into ours also, could he have made us adopt the beastial calendar of Poor Richard, we might have lost our account too, but by sticking to the good old June and January we have caught him out.

[Page 26]The fact is, the committee of public misery never took any steps towards a mediation, ne­ver wrote any letter to Fauchet on the subject, nor did this latter ever expect any information relative thereto. The whole was a mere trumped up story to induce the President to relinquish his purpose of a pacific negociation with Great Bri­tain, by giving him a high opinion of the friend­ship of France and leading him to depend on her for support. Had the President been the dupe they expected he was, we might have bidden an eternal farewel to independence. If Robespierre and the Convention had once got a hold of him, he would in vain have struggled to get free: their fra­ternal hug would have been a million times more fa­tal to us than the grapples of the Algerine galleys to the crews of our ships.—Observe how anxious Fauchet was to obtain some overture on the part of the President: ‘ I pray you to invite the Pre­sident to cause to be communicated to me the means which he will join to those of the committee of public safety.’ This was all Fauchet wanted him to do; to ask some favour or other. I doubt not but they would have really interposed with their brother barbarians for the liberation of the cap­tives; but the chains which they would have knocked off from a handful of Americans, would have been rivetted on America for ever. The President saw the snare, and, with his usual saga­city, avoided it; and thus preserved himself and his country from disgrace and ruin.

The motive for advancing the charge at this time, is, to instil into the minds of the people, that the President felt extremely indifferent as to the fate of the captives. This base, this calum­nious, [Page 27] this insufferably insolent insinuation, I leave to the resentment of those for whose sake he has undergone every toil and every hardship, has a thousand times ventured his life, and, what is more, has patiently borne the viperous bite of ingratitude. If there be an American, who ap­proves of the late revolution, and who esteems himself happy under the change which it has pro­duced, and who yet has not the courage to re­sent this audacious aspersion of the character of General Washington, he deserves to be curtailed of the signs of manhood: such a pusillanimous reptile ought not to be suffered to propagate his breed.

‘ 5. The government allowed the French colonies to be declared in a state of blockade, and allowed the citizens of America to be interdicted the right of trading to them.’

It is a wonder Citizen Adet did not swell the list here. He might, with equal reason, have complained that the Federal Government allowed the British to conquer the half of these colonies; that they allowed Lords Howe, Hood and Brid­port to destroy their fleets; and that they allowed Prince Charles to beat and pursue their boasting army. He might have complained, that they are about to allow the sans-culotte general Moreau to be Burgoyened, and the ruffian Buonaparte and his wolfish comrades to leave their lank carcasses in Italy, which I hope and believe will be allowed. Had he complained, that they allowed it to rain, to snow and to thunder, his complaint would not have been more absurd than it now is.

[Page 28]But, the government also allowed ‘the Ame­rican citizens to be interdicted the right of trading to these colonies.’—As to the power of preventing this, the same may be said as of the prohibitions above supposed; and as to the right of preventing it, if the power had existed, no­thing can be said, unless we knew the exact state of the blockades, to which the Citizen alludes, but of which his Blunderbuss gives no particular account.

When a place, or an island, is actually in­vested in such manner as to enable the besieger to prevent neutrals from entering, he has a right, according to the immemorially established law of nations, not only to exercise this power of pre­vention, but to seize on, and confiscate, both goods and vessels; and even to inflict corporal punishment on all those who transgress his prohi­bition. That the British have sometimes declared places in a state of siege, which were not really invested, has often been asserted, but never prov­ed; but it is well known, on the other hand, that they never went to the rigour of the law of nations with those who had the temerity to disre­gard their prohibitions, in attempting to enter places which were completely blockaded.

Numerous complaints of captures, made at the entrance of the ports of an island, amount to a pretty strong presumptive proof, that the captor has formed an actual investiture. If he has done this, he certainly has a right to declare it, and it follows of course, that no neutral power has a right to take offence at his declaration. When one of the neutral captains complained, that the [Page 29] British intercepted, and seized on, every vessel that attempted to enter the port of St. Pierre's, and, in the very same letter, inveighed against the ille­gality of their declaring the place in a state of blockade, he talked like a good honest tar; and when we hear a public minister echoing the complaint, we may pardon his ignorance, but we cannot help wishing, at the same time, that he had been sent to hand reef and steer, stew up lobscous, or swab the deck, rather than to pester us with his boor­ish grumbling and tarpawling logic.

Where a merchant, or a mariner, through love to the besieged, or hatred to the besieger, through avarice or through indiscretion, has lost his pro­perty by an endeavour to elude the prohibition of trading to a blockaded place, it is very natu­ral, and therefore perhaps excusable, in him to be vociferous in complaint against the injustice of the captor; but it is not quite so natural or excusable in his government to participate in his resent­ment, and plunge the nation into a war to avenge him. Were the harmony of nations to be dis­turbed by the passions of individuals, peace must take her flight to heaven, for she would never find a resting place on the face of the earth.

It is, however, certain, that very many of the captures, made by the British cruizers, were con­trary to the law of nations, and therefore called for the interposition of the general government. And has not that government interposed? Yes, and so effectually too, that a mode of indemnifi­cation, as equitable and as honourable as either party could wish for, has been firmly settled on. Sup­posing, [Page 30] then, for a moment, that France had a right to make inquiries on the subject, what more does she want? Strange as it may seem, to those who are inattentive to the intrigues of this at once volatile, ferocious and artful republic, it is the success of the negociation, by which this very indemnification was obtained, that has occasion­ed the charge now preferred by her minister! The French, or rather the French Usurpers, re­joiced at the British depredations on the com­merce of this country: nothing was farther from their wishes than to see the sufferers indemnified. They were in hopes of a rupture being produced between Britain and America, and they are now foaming at their disappointment.

To this charge respecting blockades and the seizure of American vessels, may be added that which Citizen Adet makes with regard to the im­pressment of seamen from on board of those and other vessels.

The complaint against British impressments has so often been the subject of public debate and private animadversion, that it would seem unne­cessary to dwell on it here; yet, as I do not re­collect ever having seen it placed in a fair point of view, to attempt doing it at this time can be productive of no harm.

The impressed seamen were of two descriptions; British subjects and American subjects, or (if my reader likes the term better) American citizens. ^* [Page 31] This distinction is a very important one, because on it totally depends the legality or illegality of the impressment.

It is an established and universally acknowledg­ed principle, that, to the lawful sovereign power of the state, or, in other words, the state itself, in which a man is born, he owes allegiance to the day of his death; unless exempted therefrom by the consent of that sovereign power. This prin­ciple is laid down by nature herself, and is sup­ported by justice and general policy. A man, who is not dead to every sentiment that distin­guishes him from the brute, feels himself attach­ed to his native land by ties but very little weaker than those which bind him to his parents, and he who can deny the one will make little scruple of denying the other. For the truth of the former remark, I appeal to the heart of my reader, and for the truth of the latter, to his daily obser­vation.—Who would not regard as a monster, the ungrateful wretch that should declare he was no longer the son of his father? And yet this is but one step from pretending to shake off his allegi­ance to his country. Such declarations may be made, but the debt of duty and allegiance re­mains undiminished.

And is it not just that the state which has bred, nourished and protected you, should have a title to your allegiance? A fool might say, as I heard a philosophical fool lately say, with Goodwin's [Page 32] political justice in his hand; ‘I could not avoid being born in your state.’ But, ungrateful fool, the state might have avoided sheltering you under its wings, and suffering you to grow up to manhood. It might have expelled you the socie­ty, cast you out to live among the beasts, or have thrown you into the sea, had it not been withheld by that law, that justice, which now sanctions its claim on your allegiance. To say, that you "never asked for protection," is the same thing as to say, that you never asked to be born. Had your very first cry been a renunciation of protec­tion, it would not have invalidated the claim of the state; for you were protected in your mo­ther's womb. Should the state now withdraw its protection from you, and leave you to the mercy of the plunderer and assassin, or drive you out from its boundaries, without any forfeiture on your part; would you not exclaim against such a step as an act of brutal injustice? And yet this is no more unjust than for you to withdraw your allegi­ance, cast the state from you, and leave it to the mercy of its foes. The obligation here is per­fectly reciprocal; as the state cannot, by its own arbitrary will, withhold that protection which is the birthright of every individual subject, so no sub­ject can, by his arbitrary will, alienate that alle­giance which is the right of the state.

The general policy too, the mutual interest of nations, in supporting this principle, is so evident, that nothing but the influence of the wild and barbarian doctrines of the regenerated French can account for its having been disputed. —If men could alienate their allegiance at plea­sure, they could also transfer it at pleasure and [Page 33] then, into what confusion would not mankind be plunged? Where should we look for the distinc­tive mark of nations, and where find the stand­ard of right and of duty?

Let us illustrate the excellence of this policy by an example of what might result from its con­trary, and at the same time bring the question home to America.—It is very natural that the people of this country should wish to draw the seamen from other countries and claim them as hers, but let us see how this doctrine would suit when brought into operation against herself.—Sup­pose a war (which God forbid) should break out between America and Great Britain, and that some of the citizens or subjects of these states should be found on board the enemy's vessels making war upon their country; in this case, America would have no right to punish them, ac­cording to the new doctrine, if they declared that they had transferred their allegiance to Britain. We may bring the evil still nearer to our doors, and assert, that even deserters to an enemy, land­ed in the country, would also claim exemption from punishment.—It will not do to say, that this would be treason. If allegiance be transferrable, the transfer may take place for all purposes, at all times, and in all places; for war as well as for peace; in the hour of danger as well as in the hour of security; on this side of the sea as well as on the other; in the camp as well as in the city.—This wild doctrine once established, trea­son would become a duty, or rather there could be no such thing as a traitor in the world. The barriers of society would be broken into shivers: the discontented of every community would be [Page 34] tempted, and would moreover have a right, to abandon, betray and make war upon their coun­try.

Applying what has been said to the complaint now before us, we shall find, that the people re­siding in these States at the time their indepen­dence was acknowledged, and those who have been born in them since that time, are not sub­jects of Great Britain; and that, all who have emigrated from the dominions of Britain since that epoch are her subjects. It is very certain that nearly all the impressed seamen were of this latter description, and were therefore still subject to the laws of their country and the regulations of their sovereign, when found in any part of his or his enemy's dominions, or upon the high seas. These regulations authorized his officers to impress them, and therefore they were impressed. That their impressment was frequently a very great loss to their employers might be subject of regret, but the government of the United States had no more right to complain of it, than that of Bri­tain had to complain of their being employed.

The heathenish French are certainly the last people in the world to hold up as an example to Christian nations; but, where their practice is so exactly contrary to the principles they pretend to profess, it is worth noticing.—Let it be observed, then, that they have taken thousands of their emigrants, without the limits of their territory, who had renounced their protection; yet every soul of them were put to the sword; not as Au­strians, English or Dutch, but as Frenchmen, who still owed allegiance to France, and as such [Page 35] were dealt with as traitors. Now I humbly request the Citizen minister of the "terrible" bloody nation to tell me, what claim France had to the allegiance of these emigrants, if Britain had none to her emigrated sailors? It will not serve his turn, to say that they were found with arms in their hands, that circumstance alone could not render them subjects of France; and besides, the British sailors might have been found in arms too: a neutral allegiance is no allegiance at all.

But, to come still closer to the point; the French seized several of their emigrants without arms in their hands, on the high seas, pursuing their peaceable commerce, on board of neutral ves­sels too, yea even on board of American vessels. Every man of these they also put to death; some they dragged on shore to the guillotine, others they threw into the sea alive, and others they hewed down with their sabres. Therefore, un­less Citizen Adet will frankly declare, like a good full-blooded sans-culotte, that it is justifia­ble for a nation to claim the allegiance and seize on the persons of its Emigrants, only for the purpose of cutting their throats, I must insist that the practice of his nation gives the lie direct to the principle on which his charge is founded.

It is a phenomenon in politics for a French minister to exert his humane influence in behalf of British subjects. How kind it was of the Con­vention to endeavour to extend their fatherly protection to these impressed seamen! With what a philanthropic warmth they express their con­cern for them! They are devilish careful of the bacon of a British tar, when they want to pre­vent [Page 36] him from being brought into action against them; but when they have got him in their clutch­es they are not quite so tender of him. They have starved thousands of British prisoners this war. They were fed on rotten herbage for months together. They crammed them into dungeons, or rather charnel houses, and gave them limed water to moisten their dirty food. Above three thousand of these poor fellows, ex­pired with burning entrails, in the different sea­ports of the treacherous and inhuman republic, only because they remained faithful to their country and loyal to their king.

I now come to the other description of impress­ed seamen: those who owed allegiance to America alone. And here I frankly declare, that I believe, many acts of rudeness, insolence, and even tyranny, have been committed by particular offi­cers; for there are some of them that would press their own mothers, if they were capable of stand­ing before the mast. But, I can never credit all the lamentable stories that the hirelings of France have so industriously propagated on this subject. After a most piteous and pitiful picture of the distresses of the impressed seamen, drawn by that able painter, the taper-limbed and golden-hued Adonis of New York, who has been aptly enough compared to a poplar tree in autumn; after as vi­gilant and spiteful an inquiry as ever was prosecut­ed by the spirit of faction, not more than five or six impressed seamen, of the description we are now speaking of, could be named; and with respect to these, the report of the secretary of state proved, that, where proper application had been made for [Page 37] their enlargement, it had always been immediately attended to, and had produced the desired effect.

It was in the course of this memorable investi­gation, that the generous Mr. Livingston proposed to furnish the British seamen, on board American vessels, with certificates of naturalization. These were intended to operate as a charm on the paws and bludgeons of the English press-gangs, or, at least, it is difficult to conceive for what other purpose they were intended. Was there any man in Con­gress fool enough imagine, that the just claims of one nation could be annulled by the production of bits of sealed paper given to her subjects by ano­ther nation? The particular act, or the general law, by which foreigners are naturalized, may admit them to a participation in all the privileges and immunities enjoyed by the citizens of the state adopting them (which is, indeed, the sole end of naturalization), but can never weaken the claim of the parent state; otherwise traitors and deserters, by producing certificates of naturaliza­tion, might bid defiance to the just vengeance of their injured country.

As to the measures taken by the Federal Go­vernment, relative to the impressed seamen, they were such as the peculiar situation of America rendered wise. Mr. Jay endeavoured to obtain a stipulation, by which British seamen, found on board American vessels, would have been ex­empted from the operation of the impress orders. This Great Britain refused, for the same reason that nations as well as individuals generally re­fuse to make a gratuitous sacrifice of what be­longs [Page 38] to them. Agents have since been appoint­ed to attend to impressments, and when their in­terposition is warranted by the state of the case, there is every appearance that it will be produc­tive of the end proposed, and that both parties will readily co-operate for the preservation of harmony.

But, it is this cursed harmony that Citizen Adet and his masters do not approve of. They wish the government of the United States to imi­tate them, assume the tone of bullies, and so get into a war; or, at least, they wish Great Britain to be compelled to relinquish her claim to her sailors, while she stands in need of them to fight against her enemies. The former of these will not happen, in spite of French envy and malice; and as to the latter, it will never take place while Britain is able to beat France, Spain and Holland, on the seas, and that I trust she will be as long as there are men of war in the world and seas for them to fight on.

Thus far have I proceeded on this subject for the satisfaction of my reader: what remains to be said on it is intended for the satisfaction of Citizen Adet alone.—And now then, you ter­rible Envoy of the "terrible nation," be so po­lite for once as to tell me, what business you, or your worthy predecessors, had to meddle or make with the impressment of American sailors. Your reading does not, indeed, seem to be very deep or extensive; but, if you have not read Grotius or Puffendorff, or any other civilian that treats of the sovereignty and independence of na­tions, you may probably have dipped into the [Page 39] Mock Doctor (which is a translation from your own comic poet), and if so, you must remember the fate of the fool that interfered in the disputes of other people.—You tell us, that Fauchet, writing to our government, asked: ‘ What ac­count do you conceive I can render to the French government, of the means you take for rendering your neutrality respectable?’—This, my good mounseer, is not language to be used to an independent nation: it is the style of a school-master to his idle scholar, of a guardian to his childish or profligate ward, or rather of a stew­ard to the crouching vassals of his and their lord and master. Yet you have had the assurance to repeat the question, couched in still more hector­ing and menacing terms, and pretend to be of­fended because the government has not deigned to make you a reply.—When your Convention were dragging their sovereign to a mock trial, and condemning him to an ignominious death, in open defiance of all law and justice; cutting off his unfortunate sister and queen, after having drenched them with the dregs of humiliation, ten times bitterer than death; cramming his son, an in­nocent child, into a dungeon, ordering him to be kept from sleep, and finally—my pen refuses to trace the dastardly, the horrid deed. When they were butchering, by thousands, the faithful inhabitants of Lyons, and the brave pea­sants of La Vendée, whose names will be remem­bered with honour and renown, when their assas­sins will be howling in hell; when they were in the midst of this base and bloody work, what would they have said, had the government of America called on them to hold their hands? Would they not have rejected the interposition [Page 40] with scorn? Would they not have added the En­voy to the group of an execution or the cargo of a drowning boat?—By what article of the rights of man then, do they assume to themselves the office of Dictators to this free and independent nation? The assumption is an outrage on every principle of nature, of law, of justice and of policy: it can be surpassed by nothing on the annals of arro­gance, and can be equalled only by the impu­dence with which it is attempted to be exercised.

Dismissing this charge respecting impressed sea­men, the length of my observations on which I am afraid has wearied my reader, I proceed to the remaining ones, on which I promise to be more concise.

‘ 6. The Federal Government eluded all the ad­vances made by the French Republic for renew­ing the treaties of commerce upon a more fa­vourable footing to both nations.’

What does this learned Citizen mean by trea­ties of commerce? This country has but one trea­ty of commerce with France: the other is a treaty "eventual and defensive." Perhaps, indeed, he may regard war as a species of commerce; and it must be allowed that this is the only commerce that can be carried on with his terrible republic at present. The kind of trucking commerce that she is carrying on in Italy, where she purchases a statue or a picture with the lives of ten thou­sand soldiers, may, to her, be advantageous enough, because she is a rich lady and a virtuoso; but to America, who is a plain homely dame, and has but little taste for such fine things, this commerce [Page 41] has but few charms: to her, one live farmer is of higher estimation than all the heroes and gods of antiquity.

I rather think, however, that Citizen Adet, ig­norant as he may be, knows that a defensive treaty is not a treaty of commerce; and if so, he must know that there was but one treaty of commerce between the countries. But there were two treaties to be renewed, and, as it has always been held up to the people here, that their dear friends of France did not wish their prosperity to be inter­rupted by taking a part in the war, it would not do to talk about renewing a defensive treaty; that would have smelt of powder: yet he could not say, that the treaty of commerce only was proposed to be renewed, and so he has called them both trea­ties of commerce. The Citizen was hemmed in between a lie and an absurdity, and, to the cre­dit of his morality, he has chosen the latter.

That the ground work of a new treaty, or a renewed treaty, with France, was to be our going to war with her enemies, has been so often and so incontestibly proved, that the fact is now uni­versally acknowledged, except by the stipenda­ries of that pure-principled republic. But, were a proof yet wanting, Citizen Adet has furnished it, in the last page of his Diplomatic Blunderbuss. Here he tells us, that both Genet and Fauchet used their utmost to draw the government into a negociation, but in vain; that it eluded all their friendly overtures.—Yes, and so it did indeed; just as the sheep eludes the friendly overtures of the wolf, and for much about the same reason.

[Page 42]After relating the grievous disappointment of his importunate predecessors, the Citizen goes on, and says that he himself also made the same over­tures for a negociation, and adds:

‘On this subject the president authorised the secretary of state, who explained to the un­dersigned the manner in which they could pro­ceed in it. But at what time? When the rati­fication of the treaty concluded between Lord Grenville and Mr. Jay no longer permitted the undersigned to pursue that negociation,’—And why not?—Why not go on man? If you had nothing to propose but ‘ treaties of commerce, up­on a footing more favourable to both nations,’ how could the treaty with Great Britain prevent the pursuit of your negociation?—The reason is plain: this treaty had happily put an end to all the disputes between America and Britain, and left you no room to hope that your negociation would rekindle the embers of discord. It was this consideration, and this alone, that thwarted your negociations, that has since set the gall of your masters afloat, and that has now brought forth your impudent appeal from the government to the people.

The only question for the people to determine, then, is—not whether they wished the treaties to be renewed, but whether they wished for war, or not; and this question they have already deter­mined in the negative. There once stood a ma­jority in Congress ready to set the British treaty aside, and plunge this country into a war with that na­tion. A pause ensued: the people, the real peo­ple, had time to rally their good sense and break [Page 43] the hostile phalanx. Peace was echoed from eve­ry quarter of the Union. ‘Baffle the projects of our insidious friends, fulfil our engagements, keep our honour untarnished, and preserve to us the blessings of peace.’ This was the voice of the people of America, and, whatever opinion the Envoy of the "terrible nation" may entertain, his noisy Blunderbuss will not scare them into a revocation of the solemn decision.

But, after all, admitting for a moment, that the renewed treaty was not to engage this coun­try in the war; nay, even admitting what is im­possible, that the ferocious tyrants of France were about to confer a favour on us; how long, I pray, has it been a crime to refuse a favour? Every one has surely a right to say: no, I thank you. Yet this right, that is blamelessly exercised by the beggar at the door, is denied to the go­vernment of America! There are, indeed, cer­tain nameless favours that a man cannot refuse, with any hope of forgiveness; and it would seem, that the French Republic looks upon herself in the light of a battered harridan despised by a lus­ty youth, and that she is now fulfilling the max­im of Zara:

And thus she flings off the stage, shaking her dishe­velled locks and brandishing her bloody dag­ger.—Let the meddling, jealous, blood-thirsty termagant go, and let Citizen Adet follow her in quality of train-bearer.

[Page 44]Thank God, we are at last come to the closing article of accusation.

‘ 7. The Federal Government anticipated Great Britain, by soliciting a treaty; in which trea­ty it prostituted its neutrality; it sacrificed France to her enemies, or rather, looking upon her as obliterated from the chart [map] of the world, it forgot the services she had rendered it, and threw aside the duty of gratitude, as if in­gratitude was a governmental duty.’

This is a complicated charge, comprising the crimes of meanness, prostitution, treachery and ingratitude. The meanness of ‘ anticipating Great Britain, by soliciting a treaty,’ shall not detain us long.—When two nations form a treaty, it is clear that one or the other must make the first overtures, or the business could never be begun, and consequently never ended. I believe, there­fore, that making the first proposition for a trea­ty, and particularly a treaty of commerce, was never before construed into an act of meanness. As for soliciting, this word, by which the Citizen wishes to convey an insinuation that Mr. Jay was haughtily received, at first rejected, and at last obliged to approach with humiliating condescen­sion, nothing can be farther from the truth. His business was, to demand reparation of the wrongs sustained by America. When these were made known, Great Britain had her wrongs to oppose to them. Both parties were, as their interests dic­tated, equally desirous of an accommodation; and this desire was productive of a treaty, settling all old disputes, and making provisions for the avoid­ing of new ones. Now, I pray, in this simple [Page 45] and natural process, what is there to be discover­ed of meanness or humble solicitation?

It is ever the fate of an inconsistency in words and actions, to expose itself to detection.—Citi­zen Adet accuses the American government of meanness, in anticipating Britain by soliciting a treaty of commerce, while, in the very same note, he takes a wonderful deal of pains to prove to the people here, that the French government not only anticipated America by soliciting a trea­ty, but also, that, after two successive ministers had solicited it in vain, the solicitation was con­tinued by a third. God forbid I should attempt to justify America by the example of France; but, if soliciting a treaty be a crime, I beg the Citizen will take it from us and lay it respectfully at the feet of his terrible republic.

The charge proceeds to assert, that the govern­ment ‘prostituted its neutrality, and sacrificed France to her enemies.’—This is too vague to be taken up as it lies before us; except, indeed, it be the word prostituted, which may be dismiss­ed at once, by observing that it must have been picked up in the purlieus of the Palais-Royal, a place of which the Irish-Town of Philadelphia is a picture in miniature. To avoid the indecency therefore of joining it with the American govern­ment, I shall supply its place by the word gave up.

What the polite Citizen chiefly alludes to then, in saying, that the government gave up its neu­trality and sacrificed France to her enemies, is, that article of the British treaty which contains the stipulation respecting an enemy's goods, found [Page 46] on board the vessels of the United States, when these latter are neutral, with respect to Great Britain.

Want of room prevents me from entering ful­ly into this subject, or I should not despair of stripping off all the million of absurdities, mis­representations and downright falsehoods, in which the prostituted (here this word sounds well) partizans of France have disguised it. Perhaps, however, if I should be so happy as to place it in a clear light, brevity may be no disadvantage.

The stipulation of the treaty which we are about to examine, in substance says, that an ene­my's goods found on board the vessels of the con­tracting parties, shall be looked upon as lawful prize. This, says Citizen Adet, is a violation of the modern law of nations; and this, says the go­vernment, is no such thing. As here is a flat contradiction, somebody must tell a lie; who it is I know not, but I am sure it is not the government at any rate.

Within what limits Citizen Adet means to cir­cumscribe the word modern, I cannot exactly as­certain; but as, in another part of his Blunder­buss, he calls France the ancient ally of America, and as it is well known that this alliance began but eighteen years and ten months ago, it is probable he looks upon that only as the modern law of na­tions which commenced its operation at some time posterior to that epoch. Indeed, it is pretty clear that he supposes the modern law of nations to date its beginning from what he calls the ‘New [Page 47] Style;’ and, in that case, thank heaven, we are ancients yet.

But, however cramped the signification may be, that this son of Floreal and Fructidor pleases to give to the word modern, we Christians know, that the modern law of nations means, that pub­lic law, or rather practice, which the modern nations of Europe have observed towards each other. Now, with respect to commerce with an enemy, whoever examines the best writers on the subject, will find that, long since these nations assumed nearly their present relative state, it was the general practice to prohibit all trade whatever with an enemy.

As the nations grew more polished, and as their relations increased by means of maritime commerce, the rigour of this practice was gradu­ally softened, till confiscation was at last confined to the vessels and property of enemies, to certain articles termed contraband of war, and to the property of enemies found on board of neutral vessels.

Thus far the relaxation became pretty general about the time of Queen Elizabeth. But some powers wished to extend the freedom of com­merce still further; even so far as to protect ene­mies' goods found on board of neutral vessels; and to do this the Queen of England was one of the first to assert her right. The right was, however, disputed, and that too by the United Provinces, even before their independence was fully assured. They took some of her vessels laden with Spanish property, and condemned the cargoes, without [Page 48] paying freightage. The Queen at first resented this conduct in an infant state that was chiefly in­debted to her for support; but, notwithstanding the well known tenacity and imperiousness of her disposition, her wisdom and justice prevailed, and she at last acquiesced in the legality of the cap­tures.—Here then we have an instance of the prac­tice of a nation of modern birth, a republic also, and a republic engaged in a revolutionary war.

I have at least a hundred examples of this na­ture now before me. But let us descend to still more modern times, and that the example may be, if possible, yet more strikingly applicable, let us appeal to the practice of the French nation itself.—The famous Ordinance of 1681, which might be called the navigation act of France, ex­pressly declared to be good prize, not only the enemy's goods on board of a neutral vessel, but the neutral vessel also.

We are now got down to the close of the last century; but as that may not be quite modern enough for our Decadery Mounseer, let us conti­nue to descend, still continuing our appeal to the practice of his own country.—The Ordinance of 1681 was mitigated by successive treaties, in which France, according as her interest prescribed, re­fused, or granted, the permission which Citizen Adet now sets up as a right: but, after these trea­ties, and even so late as 1757, she declared to the republic of Holland, that if any goods belonging to her enemy were found on board of Dutch ves­sels, such goods should be condemned as good prize, and to this declaration her practice was conformable, during the whole war which ended [Page 49] in 1763, only thirty-three years ago. So that, un­less this man of the "New Style" will absolutely sans-culotte us, and insist upon it that our fathers were antediluvians, and that we ourselves were born in the ages of antiquity, we must insist, on our part, that the principle adhered to in the treaty between Great Britain and America, is a principle of the modern law of nations, and more­over is sanctioned by the practice of France.

But, says the Citizen, France adopted a differ­ent principle in her treaty with America.—France had her interested motives for that, of which I could say a great deal more if I pleased. Let that be as it may; what had her treaty to do with Great Britain? She is independent I hope, if Ame­rica is not. France did not "work her liberty" too, I humbly presume; and I presume also, that the treaty between America and France is not the code to which all the modern nations are to appeal for a decision of their rights.—The fact is, this principle is either adopted, or not adopted, according to the interests and situations of the contracting parties: as these vary, nations act dif­ferently at different times and towards different nations. It is a matter merely conventional and solely dependent on circumstances, as much as any other stipulation of a treaty.

The Citizen has one more fetch; which I think is the most impudent piece of sophistry that ever was attempted to be palmed upon a nation. A nation, did I say! Why, a nation of Indians would have tomahawked him, and we should now see his skin hanging up in the shops for sale, had he offered to chouse them in such a barefaced man­ner.—I [Page 50] allude to that part of his Blunderbuss, where he says, that America violated her treaty with France, by granting to Britain the favour of seizure, which she had not granted to France, though she was to be treated in the same manner as "the most favoured nation."

The sophistry of this consists in confounding fa­vour with right, terms almost as opposite in signi­fication as right and wrong.—America confer­red no favour, when, by treaty, she declared that Great Britain should seize enemies' goods on board of her vessels: she only acknowledged the existence of Great Britain's right so to do. Nor was this acknowledgment absolutely necessary: but, some nations having retained the exercise of the right and others having relinquished it, it was a prudent precaution against future disputes, to declare, by express stipulation, whether it was retained or relinquished in the present instance.

It is clear therefore, that the stipulation in the treaty with France, which says, that she ‘shall be treated in the same manner as the most favoured nation,’ must be totally inapplicable to a case, wherein no favour is, or can be, con­ferred. However, as the construction given to this has been the ground-work of much com­plaint and even calumny, it may not be amiss here to explain its true meaning.

The stipulation for equal favour then, which is to be found in most treaties of commerce now existing in the world, extends to the effects of the munici­pal laws and regulations of the contracting par­ties. It implies an equality in duties, in tonnage, [Page 51] in the permission to have consuls; all which, and many others, may properly be called favours: but, it can never be construed to extend to any one of the great rights of national sovereignty. If this were the case, all the advantageous stipu­lations of a treaty made with one power, would be applicable to every other power, in a treaty with which this usual stipulation for equal favour was found: and of this we shall see the mon­strous absurdity in a minute.—America, for instance, has treaties with Spain, Great Britain and France, in all which the stipulation for equal favour exists. In the treaty with Spain, America allows to that nation a free navigation on the American part of the Mississippi; but does she al­low this to Britain and France? In that with Great Britain, America allows her a free naviga­tion and trade on her rivers, lakes, &c. and Bri­tain allows the same freedom to America on hers; but does either of them extend this permission to France or Spain, or any other nation? Yet they are obliged to do this, if the stipulation for equal favour admits of the construction, which the ma­ritime Goths wish to impose on us, in support of their attack on the commerce of America.

The subject then is thus brought to a close: the seizure of an enemy's goods on board of neutral vessels is a right of national sovereignty, which every independent nation may, in her treaties, re­tain or give up, according to the dictates of her interests or her will. In the treaty between Britain and America this right is reciprocally retained; in that between America and France it is recipro­cally given up. Great Britain naturally adheres to her treaty; America adheres to hers with both nations; and it only remains for us to see how [Page 52] that between America and France has been ad­hered to, by the despots who have seized on the wealth and the power of that unfortunate nation.

Soon after the commencement of the present war, the Convention ordered all enemy's goods on board of American vessels to be seized, notwithstanding the positive stipulation to the contrary. This order, dictated by the insolence of success, was consequent­ly revoked, when the scale of victory turned. After this, the famished state, to which the infernal re­volution had reduced that once flourishing coun­try, and the farce of friendship which it was ne­cessary to keep up, in order to engage this coun­try in the war, for some time withheld the Con­vention from further depredations on our com­merce: but, being baffled in their war project by the treaty with Britain, and imagining (vainly I trust) that America would be terrified by their victories, and the consequences these might pro­duce, they issued on the 2d of July last, a decree for renewing their spoliations, and for seizing all enemy's property on board of American vessels, which decree Citizen Adet communicated to the Secretary of State, and to the people, on the 27th of October.

The perfidy and tyranny of this conduct are nothing, when compared to the manner in which they are brazened out.—The Citizen first sends the Secretary of State a Note, enclosing the un­principled decree. The Secretary, in answer, expresses the uneasiness of the President, at such a flagrant violation of the treaty. To this the Frenchman has the assurance to reply, that it is ‘ the resolution of a government terrible to its [Page 53] enemies, but generous to its allies;’ and, as he elsewhere calls the government of America the enemy of France, he menacingly leaves us to con­clude, that generosity is to be the portion of others, while dreadful chastisement is in reserve for us.—We may pardon the threats of a simple bully; we may even forgive a sharper or a robber, but when he has the impudence to justify his conduct, and that too with his filthy fist at our mouths, there is no degree of resentment, no mortal means of venge­ance, adequate to the insult.

Thus have I had patience to go through the mock charges, which the despots of France have dared to prefer against the free, equitable and beneficent government of America. I shall take the liberty of adding a few miscellaneous observa­tions, which would be dispensed with, fearing the reader is already too much fatigued, did not the crisis of affairs seem to demand them now, or never.

The first thing that calls, and most loudly calls, for reprobation, is, the contemptuous manner in which the Frenchman treated the government, by communicating his Notes to the people, at the same time, or before, they were received by the Pre­sident.

The sole right of making communications of this nature to the people of a state, so evidently belongs to its government, and is so essential to the very existence of every government, that it is not surprising, that the first violation of it should have been reserved for the heathenish French. Former barbarians ever respected this [Page 54] right: the laws of decency had some influence on their uncultivated minds; but the barbarians, or rather the savages, of Paris, have set those and all other laws, human and divine, at defiance. They seem to lock upon themselves as the chil­dren of the devil, and to have assumed, in virtue of their father, the right of prowling about the earth, disturbing the peace of mankind, by scattering the seeds of rebellion and bloodshed.

Their agents have long been practising their fiend-like temptations on the people of this coun­try. They have proceeded from one degree of ma­lice to another, till at last their late Minister Adet (for whom I wish I could find a name worse than his own) makes a direct attempt to inflame the peo­ple against the government.—After telling them, that the Convention has ordered their vessels to be seized (contrary to treaty), he proceeds: ‘And now, if the execution of these measures gives rise to complaints in the United States, it is not against France they should be directed, but against those men, who have entered into nego­ciations contrary to the interests of their coun­try.’—Just as if he had said, pointing to the President, the Senate and Officers of State: ‘there they are; rise on them, cut their throats, and choose others more pliant to our will.’— His words do not amount to this, 'tis true; but in his country a hint far less intelligible, would have been perfectly understood, and would not have failed of the desired effect. Happily he was not haranguing a Parisian mob. Whatever foolish partiality some of us may have had, and may yet have for France, nature has been so kind as not to make us Frenchmen.

[Page 55]The insult on the people too; the despicable opinion he must have of their understandings and their hearts, is past all bearing.—I know a little Island, which America was once proud to emu­late, that would suffer itself to be sunk into the sea, rather than patiently put up with such an abominable outrage.—In the reign of Queen Ann, when a Tory Ministry, aided by an intriguing Frenchman, were treating for a separate peace with Louis XIV. the Imperial Minister, Count Gallas, in order to prepossess the people of Eng­land against the peace, caused the transaction to be published, as an article of news, in one of the daily papers. This step, though it could not be looked upon as an appeal to the people, was so much resented by the Queen, that she ordered him to quit the kingdom immediately; and in this she was supported by the unanimous voice of the nation; who, notwithstanding they disapprov­ed of a peace which was to sacrifice the great advantages obtained by their arms under the im­mortal Duke of Marlborough, justly and manful­ly resented the attempt of a foreign minister to step in between them and their own sovereign, however blameable her measures might be.

And, shall it be said of the people of America, that they are less attached to a government of their own choosing, and that has never for a moment lost sight of their interests? No; it would be un­just to say this. The people are impatient of the insult, and their confidence in the wisdom of their chief is the only thing that could keep them pa­cified.

[Page 56]To express a hatred to the government and af­fect friendship for the people who live under it, and thus arraign the former at the bar of the lat­ter, is the unbearable tone which the despots of Paris have assumed to all the nations of Europe; and at lost it is come to the turn of America. They did not declare war against the Germans, the English and the Dutch; but against the Em­peror, the King of England, and the Stadtholder. The Germans and the English did not believe them; they knew them of old. The Dutch sucked in the bait, and now they know them too. They have paid dearly for the fraternal hug. God send they may squeeze them to the size of shotten herrings; that they may not leave even a frog to sport in their canals; that they may eat up the very herbage, like the locusts in Egypt. These poor degraded devils, who never ceased their clamours for liberty and equality, till they had driven into exile the princely family of Orange, to whom they owed the birth and the preservation of their real liberties, their riches and their power, are now obliged to yield their houses and even their beds to the filthy ragga-muffin sans-culottes.—This may be truly call­ed political justice, and I sincerely hope it may fall on the heads of every people capable of act­ing the same treacherous and dastardly part. That this part will not be acted by America I am cer­tain, and if Citizen Adet had known the dispo­sitions of the people, he never would have dar­ed to hold out the temptation.

After the perfidy, injustice and malice we have been witness of, it would seem strange to hear any other than a Frenchman talking about French [Page 57] friendship.—I, for my part, had long wished to know in what this friendship consisted. I had often heard of it and read of it and read about it, especially in Poor Richard's gazette; but never could discern any thing palpable in it. It all seemed to consist in negatives. It appeared some­thing like platonic love; or like the girl that brought a fortune of twenty thousand pounds in the excellence of her disposition.—As my mind is too gross to be satisfied with this abstract kind of friendship, I was led to seek for something more solid in the Citizen's Notes. The reader will see how I was disappointed. ‘The alliance with America, says he, was always dear to Frenchmen; they have done every thing to tighten its bands.’—Just as the Jack Catch does; and we were one time actually upon the point of strangling.— ‘But the government has sought to break them.’—Here's a fellow for you! They were tucking us up, and he has the conscience to blame the government for cutting the halter!—Again: ‘ As soon as the war broke out between France and England, American vessels were permitted to trade to the West In­dies and France, upon the same footing as French vessels.’—All that is wanting to make this an act of friendship, is, the permission should have been granted before the war broke out. Af­ter it broke out, both the Islands and France must have starved, if an advantage had not been offer­ed to draw American produce to them; and even this has been a losing game; for one half of this produce has never been paid for in Christian coin. So that, the great act of friendship amounts to our liberty of keeping themselves from starv­ing and of receiving bundles of assignats as a re­compense.— ‘The [Page 58] French government heard the complaints of the United States, against Ge­net, and immediately gave the most striking repa­ration.’—It was certainly very gracious in them to hear these complaints, and a very striking reparation to suffer Genet to remain here to insult the government by his presence; but, if I am not mistaken, this gracious condescension was in consequence of Genet's threatening to do of his own head, just what Adet has now done, by their or­der; appeal from the government to the people. Hence we must inevitably conclude, that Genet was displaced because he did not go far enough, or because he deprived them of the pleasure of dragooning us; and this I take to be no very great proof of family affection.—We are now coming to the close, the very bottom of the bud­get of friendship; the reception of the American flag, by the Convention.— ‘What joy did not the American flag inspire, when it waved un­furled in the French Senate! Tender tears trickled from each eye. Every one looked at it with amazement. There, said they, is the sym­bol of the independence of our American bre­thren.’—Shameful farce! The flag was receiv­ed as a symbol of voluntary subjection, instead of independence; and, had I been President, the Embassador who dared to give colour to such an idea, should not have had it in his power to degrade his country a second time.

It must have been curious to see the tender tears trickling from the eyes of Robespierre and the rest of those sanguinary villains, who were daily employed in butchering the human species, tearing out their entrails, biting their hearts and [Page 59] lapping their gore. They wept blood instead of brine, I suppose.

When you go home, Citizen Adet, to your "terrible nation," which I hope in God will be very soon, I will send, to those of your weepers whom the justice of heaven has not yet overtak­en, a copy of the Bloody Buoy: they will see some­thing there that has drawn tears from the eyes of Americans, and that has made too deep an im­pression on their hearts to be worn away even by the hand of time. This compendium of ty­ranny, brutality, ferociousness and infamy, is read by the rising generation of America: it sinks into the memory as the plummet into the stream, and, till the plummet shall glide along the sur­face like a feather, the name of French Republi­can will awaken the idea of all that is perfidious and bloody minded.

The trickling tears of the Convention, at the sight of a bit of linsy-woolsy, puts me in mind of Mark Anthony and his mob of blubbering ple­bians. "Kind souls!" says he, ‘do you weep at the sight of Caesar's garment only? What will you do then, when you see Caesar himself.’ Upon which he shows them the corps, and the rascals, who would have knocked his brains out if he had not been dead, begin bellowing like so many town bulls round a buxom heifer.—The Convention would not have acted this silly part by America. If they could have got "Caesar himself" under their clutches, they would have completed the farce of the Croco­dile; dried up their tears and fell to cracking our bones.

[Page 60]Whether the French Convention did really cry, or whether the tears flowed, or rather trickled, from the leaky imagination of Citizen Adet, I know not; but this I know, that the reception of their flag produced just a contrary effect here. What makes them weep, makes us laugh; and what makes them laugh makes us weep. Thank heaven, we are exactly their opposite in every thing!

From French tenderness we naturally turn to British barbarity. They form a contrast like the gem and the foil, and therefore the Citizen, who is at once a statesman and an orator, has, with great art and judgment, contrived to squeeze them close together in the peroration of his Blun­derbuss. "Alas!" says he, ‘time has not yet demolished the fortifications with which the English roughened this country—nor those the Americans raised for their defence; their half rounded summits still appear in every quarter, amidst plains on the tops of mountains. The traveller need not search for the ditch which served to encompass them; it is still open under his feet. Scattered ruins of houses laid waste, which the fire had partly respected, in order to leave monuments of British fury, are still to be found.—Men still exist, who can say, here a ferocious Englishman slaughtered my father; there my wife tore her bleeding daughter from the hands of an unbridled Englishman. Alas! the soldiers who fell under the sword of the Britons are not yet reduced to dust; the la­bourer, in turning up his field, still draws from the bosom of the earth their whitened bones; while the ploughman, with tears of tenderness and gratitude, still recollects that his fields, [Page 61] now covered with rich harvests, have been moistened with French blood; while every thing around the inhabitants of this country animates them to speak of the tyranny of Great Britain and of the generosity of Frenchmen.’

I have till now avoided quotations as much as possible; but I could not resist the temptation to cull this fairest flower of the diplomatic posey. Some imaginations are said to rush forward like a flood, others to flow like a stream, and others to glide like a current; but poor Citizen Adet's nei­ther rushes, flows, nor glides: it trickles, like the eyes of his masters; it drains, it dribbles, it drops.—Dear Citizen, if you love me (of which I much doubt, by the bye), never again employ your eloquence to rouse the passions; for it lays them as completely as the cold hand of death. Instead of inflaming, you freeze us: instead of fire-brands, you turn us into icicles.—No; when you wish to excite the vengeful feelings; keep to your insolence; that is your fort; there your talents will ever ensure you the same success as they have done on the present occasion.

And were you so vain, so completely the French­man, as to imagine, that this tasteless, turgid, hy­perbolical nonsense of yours, would make the people of America believe, that ferocity is the characteristic of Britons? A little reflection might have told you that your malignant endeavours would be in vain. Two-thirds of the inhabitants of these States are of British descent: they know that the ashes of their forefathers sleep in the island of Britain. They know also, that only twenty years ago they were justly proud of being called Britons [Page 62] themselves; and though a political revolution has rendered that name no longer proper, they know that no revolution has taken place in their nati­onal character. To charge the British character with ferocity then, is saying to the Americans: ‘I do not call you a set of ferocious rascals; but you are of a d—d ferocious breed.’

To retaliate here would be superfluous; for the ferocity of the French is now acknowledged by themselves even. But, when I hear a man talk about whitened bones, and assert that ‘every thing ani­mates the inhabitants of this country to speak of the tyranny of Britain and the generosity of Frenchmen,’ I am naturally led to look back to the cruel and savage war, which these gener­ous Frenchmen carried on against the inhabitants of this country, and in which they would have succeeded in exterminating the whole of them, had it not been for the protecting ‘tyranny of Britain.’

In the charge of ferocity which Citizen Adet has brought against the British, he contents him­self with a flourish of mere hyperbole, as desti­tute of novelty and elegance as it necessarily is of truth. He has attempted to produce not a sin­gle fact in support of his slander, and for this best of reasons, because he knew no such fact was to be found. I shall proceed in a different manner. I shall give such damning proof of the ge­nerosity of Frenchmen towards the people of America as will leave no room for denial.

During the savage war of 1757, above alluded to, when the French had formed a chain of posts [Page 63] stretching from the Bay of Funday to the Missis­sippi, with the intention of subjugating these states or else driving the people into the sea, they took several forts, and, for a long time, had pretty general success: what use they made of it, how generous they were, will appear from the following account of their capture of Fort Wil­liam-Henry. I am not about to repeat a vague report. I am not even appealing to the history of England, or the writings of Englishmen. I am going to copy what was said, written and printed, by Americans themselves. I could ap­ply to many American publications of the time; but I choose, for many reasons, to draw this proof of the "generosity of Frenchmen," from Doctor Franklin himself.

In his paper, published at Philadelphia on the 25th of August, 1757, after saying that the fort surrendered by capitulation, with leave to march out with the honours of war, he proceeds thus: ‘The French immediately after the capitulation, most perfidiously let their bloodhounds loose up­on our people. Some got off, the rest were strip­ped stark naked; many were killed and scalp­ed, officers not excepted. The throats of the women were cut, their bellies ripped open, their bowels turned out, and thrown upon the faces of their yet palpitating bodies. The children were taken by the heels, and their brains beat out against the trees or stones, and not one of them saved.’

The Doctor then observes, that this cruelty of the French is nothing new; for that, ‘they massa­cred several hundreds of General Braddock's [Page 64] wounded men, that they murdered their prison­ers near Ticonderoga, and all the sick and wounded of the garrison of Oswego, notwith­standing the previous capitulation.’ He con­cludes thus: ‘To what a pitch of perfidy and cruelty is the French nation arrived! Would not an ancient beathen shudder with horror on hearing so hideous a tale. Could the most sa­vage nations ever exceed such French barbari­ty? It is hard for an Englishman to kill his enemy that lies at his feet, begging his life; but will not our armed men in future be obliged to refuse all quarter? Consider of it my country­men; take advice, and speak your minds’—In another place the Doctor exclaims, ‘ The Lord knows what French treachery will do. When shall we have revenge!’

I do not know Citizen Adet's person, I cannot therefore tell whether his cheeks be covered with buff or not. From his notes, I should rather sup­pose they are; but if they are not, he must blush himself to death upon comparing the Old Doctor's account of French generosity with his own.—He will say, perhaps, that it was the French king, and not the nation, that these cruelties must be attributed to. Well then, it is the king and not the nation, that the aid this country received last war must be attributed to. In both instances, the king was the director and his people the actors; with this remarkable distinction, that, it is cer­tain the troops that came to America were always sent by him, while it is not certain that he ever ordered them to turn human butchers when they got here.

[Page 65]Let us now take a view of ‘the generosity of Frenchmen,’ towards America, from the bloody times above mentioned to the present day.

When, by the united valour and persevarance of America and Britain, they were driven from this continent, they laid in watch, as the devil is said to do when he sees a happy couple, for an opportunity of effecting a separation between the two countries. With this opportunity the folly of the British administration soon furnished them. Yet they at first hesitated whether the indepen­dence of this country would be advantageous to them or not: but, revenge, and that great object of their policy, the humbling of their rival, at last got the better; and the alliance with the United States was concluded on. This step, how­ever, did not take place till after the Congress had issued their Declaration of Independence, and even after those victories were obtained, which gave the decisive blow to the British power in America.—Some of their troops landed here; but what did they do? Citizen Adet tells us about "fields moistened with French blood," and says, that "the ploughman now sheds tears of tenderness," when he is turning them up. This is as silly as the talk of the mad wench in one of Gay's farces, when she exclaims: ‘O, dear delightful streams of cream! Rivers of milk and seas of honey!’— French blood! I would be glad to know how it was spilt, unless they poked spear-grass up their noses, like Sir John Falstaff and his bullies. They did nothing here. They were never engaged. They only seemed to come to look on a bit, and go home and brag about giving liberty to America. Their fleets were out, to be sure; but they were [Page 66] fighting (or rather running away) for France and not for America. Taking British Islands in the West Indies was just as serviceable to this country then, as robbing the peasants of Germany now is.—So much for their war-like generosity.

As their object in making war had been to weaken Great Britain, and not to render this country free and independent, so, when the terms of peace came to be proposed, they soon made it appear, that they wished to transfer the dependence from Britain to themselves. To this end they at­tempted to exclude America from the fisheries on one side, and from the Western countries on the other. This would have at all times exposed the States to the power of the British, and the na­tural consequence would have been, a continual dependence on France. It was owing to Messrs. John Adams and Jay that this was not effected, and this is the reason why they are now so hated and abused by the French faction.—There's gene­rosity for you!

Thus far went the insidious friendship of the old government: that of the mock republic has been a thousand times worse.

First they sent Genet to raise an insurrection in the country; but finding that he had failed, they pretended to recal him; leaving him here, how­ever, to insult the government. Now they even justify all that he did, and complain of the treat­ment he received.

Fauchet we find dabbling in the Western re­bellion, and writing home to the Convention, his [Page 67] regret that it had been quelled, and his fear that it might tend to consolidate the government. Can any man be fool enough to imagine, that Fauchet would have written in this manner, had he not been well assured, that the Convention thought like himself?

If any one doubted of this before, he can now doubt no longer. Adet has thrown off the mask for them. They repealed their first decree for seizing American vessels; they pretended to be sorry for the insolence of Genet; but now they repeat their decree, and make that very appeal to the people, which they displaced Genet for talking about! Generous fellows!—Who would have thought, while they were weeping over our flag, and sending theirs to be wept over here, and writing love letters to the Congress, and sending us their new plan for weighing bread and butter by sines and tangents. Lord curse them! Who would have thought, I say, while all this loving mummery was going forward; while they were hugging and squeezing, and slavering over with snuff and foam, their dear "American brethren;" who would have thought that no less than seven heads of accusation lay rankling in their bosoms! —"A friend," says Citizen Adet, ‘injured by a friend, may safely complain, without fear of giving offence.’—Yes; but then he must com­plain like a friend, and not like a bully. He must not talk of his horsewhip or his cane. He must not come with terror in his mouth; or friendship takes its flight, and resentment succeeds. Besides, "a friend injured by a friend," complains at once: he does not treasure up the injury in his mind, and reserve it for the day of his strength. [Page 68] He does not hug, and kiss, and hang on the neck of his friend, and weep for joy at the sight of his garment; he does not keep up this farce for four long years, and at last, when he sees that hypo­crisy avails him nothing, come and rip up his grievances, and threaten vengeance. This is not the conduct of an injured friend, but that of ‘an insidious d—d Iago,’ as Peter Pindar calls the French; and such they have been, and will be, to this and every other country, that has the fol­ly to place any dependence in their friendship.

Their audacious interference, too, in the elec­tion of a chief magistrate for this country, is an­other mark of their generosity, their tender care of us. "Let your government return to itself," says the Citizen, ‘and the Directory will temper the effects of its resentment.’—I wonder what sort of fellows this Directory, as they call it, is composed of: whether they are shaped like gods or devils, or what they are like, that they should dare to talk in this manner to an independent na­tion, that they have no more power over than they have over heaven. What a poor beggarly puff, for a man as much fit to be a President as I am to be an Archbishop! A man who is a de­ist by profession, a philosopher by trade, and a Frenchman in politics and morality: a man who has written a passport for Tom Paine's Rights of Man, and would, if necessary, write another for his infamous letter to General Washington: a man, in short, who is at the head of the prostituted party by whose intrigues he has been brought forward and is supported. If this man is elected President, the country is sold to the French; and as plantations are generally [Page 69] sold with the live stock on them. I shall remove my carcass; for I am resolved never to become their property. I do not wish my family vault to be in the guts of cannibals.

Paine's Letter to General Washington is the last pretty little proof of French generosity. I have no room here to say any thing as to the con­tents of this superlatively insolent and infamous performance; but it is clear that the old ruffian has been ordered to write it by the Convention. It was written nearly about the same time that the decree for seizing American vessels was passed; it was expected that Adet's communications would stir up the people, and these sweepings of Tom's brain were intended to finish the work: nor have I the least doubt but they are now enjoying the hope, that General Washington's head is kicking about the streets of Philadelphia.

Such has been "the generosity of Frenchmen" towards the people of America. From the con­tinuation of this generosity I think we have little to hope, and I am certain we shall find that we have as little to fear from their resentment.

The dispute between the two countries stands thus: France has violated the treaty, and impu­dently insists, that she will continue in the vio­lation of it, at the same time that her minister first insults the government, and then declares him­self suspended, ‘till the government returns to itself.’—What then is to be done? Statues and curiosities we have none to stop their mouths with; unless, indeed, it be the Statue from over the library door. We might also spare them Mr. Jef­ferson's [Page 70] pivot-chair and his great bull Mammoth; to which they might add Mr. Jefferson himself, for it does not appear that he will be wanted on this side the water. But this would not satisfy them. What is to be done, then? Is the govern­ment to return to itself, beg pardon of the ‘ter­rible nation’ for having issued a proclamation of neutrality; for having declined a treaty with them, and for having formed one with Great Britain? Is this to be the conduct of America, whose chief boast is her independence? Is she to become a poor little twinkling star that is to hide its head at the rays of the Grande Republique Françoise? Is she at last to be governed by a gang of assassins with their long couteau at her throat? A pretty kind of independence truly! If this is to be the case, she has changed a British parent for a French master: from a child in leading strings she has become a grown up slave in chains.

But this will not be the case. This government will insist upon the fulfilment of the treaty, or will declare it null and void for ever. They will no longer suffer the country to be tantalized with decrees and revocations and suspensions and threats. They will say; ‘Do us justice and leave us to manage our own affairs, or we have done with you;’ and in this they will be supported by the voice of the people, however Citizen Adet may flatter himself to the contrary.

The terrible tone was the worst that the Guillo­tine Legislators could have assumed here. It may do well enough with the Brabansons, the Dutch, the Savoyards and the Italians; but it will never do with Americans, who of all mankind are the last [Page 71] to yield to compulsion. The quarrel with Great Britain which finally brought about the indepen­dence of this country, was merely about the word force. The colonies were willing to give the amount of the taxes imposed, but they would not suffer it to be said that they were forced to do it. When I was a little boy, my elder brother, in order to get my share of the apple pudding, used to say: "PETER, I order you to eat."—That very instant my jaws refused their functions, and the morsel stuck in my throat. To be sure I was a most ob­stinate dog, and I am inclined to think that the Mounseers will find their dear little Miss America to be much about of the same temper. The peo­ple of this country are the descendants of Bri­tons and Germans, and they are made of the same stubborn kind of stuff as their ancestors. With good words you may lead them far, but with bad ones not a single step: to their humani­ty you may always appeal with assurance of suc­cess, but never to their fears: like the oak they may be crushed and shivered to splinters, but no mortal power will ever make them bend.

Some people imagine that France will declare war against us. France dares do no such thing. France knows better. No; the most she will do, is, to persevere in the violation of the treaty, and consequently break off all connection with the Unit­ed States; and this is just what is wanted. Then we should get rid of the council of old ones and the council of young ones and the five sovereigns, that are born and expire in rotation, and Citizen Genet and Citizen Adet, and all the Faro bank and billiard table men, and all the dingy off­spring of French delicacy, and, which will be [Page 72] the greatest blessing, we shall get rid of the mon­strous unnatural faction that they keep alive to goad, torment, and weaken the government, and divide the country against itself. Would they but break off from us, we should avoid that de­gradation of manners, which their impious sys­tem must inevitably produce, wherever it gains ground to any extent. Their diabolical agents are now seeking for proselytes in every state and township of the Union. I believe that Bache's atheistical Calendar is paid for by the French, as much as I believe that Paine's Age of Reason was. They both come from the same press, and are intended to answer the same purpose; and that purpose is, to corrupt the hearts of the people, make them emulate the French in every thing that is vile and savage; to destroy the govern­ment, and throw the country into the power of France. There is much more to be apprehended here than from their direct threats. Their wild and blasphemous doctrines will have little effect on people of sense; but they may have, and they will have, as they already have had, on igno­rance and youth. Youth is ever caught with no­velty, and ambitious of superior discernment. The panders of Paris have always addressed themselves to this part of society: they succeeded complete­ly in France, and I am much afraid their success has been but too promising here. The sooner, there­fore, the country is purged of them, the better. Every year, every month, every day, they be­come more dangerous. Let them then go. A war, generally termed the scourge of nations, is a blessing, when compared with what we have to expect from their disorganizing impious princi­ciples and perfidious intrigues.

[Page 73]But, no declaration of war will come from them. They know better than to relinquish their hold. They will stick to us like a burr. They can be as haughty as Lucifer, and they can be as mean. When they cannot with majestic stature scale the walls of Paradise, they can shrink them­selves into the shape of a toad, and creep in at a chink. When they perceive, that we are not to be scared, that we laugh at their "terrible nation" and their "tempered resentment," they will be­come as mild as milk-maids, and say they were only joking. They will repeal their decree for seizing our vessels; they will pretend to cry again, and their Citizen will tell us about their ‘ sweet sentiments,’ and we shall have another flag sent, and so all will be made up.—The reader who consults only his own heart will say that this is impossible; but let him recollect whom we have to deal with: the French Convention; men who make a sport of the violation of treaties and of oaths; who have banished every idea of shame and remorse, and according to whose standard of retrograde refinement, meanness is commensurate with weakness and misfortune, and insolence with power and success.

However, though I am certain that the French will not go to war with America, I am as certain that America must soon go to war with them.—Let not the reader start. He must accustom himself to think and to talk on the subject, and the sooner he begins the better. I am not foretelling the day of judgment nor a second deluge; but am speaking of an object that may be looked at with calmness, as I make no doubt it will be en­countered with success.

[Page 74]There is every reason to believe, indeed, with me the fact is certain, that Spain has ceded Louisiana to France. This will put the French in possession of all our Western Frontier, give them the free navigation of the Mississippi, and then I beg any one to cast his eye over the map of the United States, and see the exposed situa­tion in which they will be placed.

France has had this in contemplation ever since the peace of 1783, and the Spanish part of Saint Domingo, lately ceded to her, and with which she can do nothing, now furnishes her with an object of exchange. Besides, the king of Spain can refuse the French nothing, or he cer­tainly would not have entered into a league with the murderers of the head of his family, and have supplied atheists with troops to carry on a marauding war on the Catholic States of Italy and the defenceless head of the church.

The French, once in possession of Louisiana, will give law to the Mississippi, and when we consider the prevalent spirit and politics of the Western people in general, the distance they are at from the seat of government, and the seduc­tive arts of their new neighbours, there is little reason to hope, that they will long remain obedi­ent to the United States. The new inhabitants of Louisiana will be made up of the profligate French soldiery, who will be prevailed on by splendid promises to transport themselves to this country, but who will be fit for nothing but pillage and war.

[Page 75]With such a hold on the back countries, and such a party in the Atlantic ones as they now have, a division of the Union must be the conse­quence. The southern States, where very little of that independence of spirit prevails, which resists the encroachments of an ambitious foe, will soon become an appendage to France. The mid­dle and northern States may, at the expense of bloody wars, preserve their independence for a while; but, at last, harrassed, and fatigued with the burden of defending themselves, they will call in the aid of Great Britain; and thus the basis of an empire will once more be cut out into colonies and provinces.

Those who rely on the friendly professions of the French, I refer to the instances of their friend­ship which we have witnessed in the course of these observations. Let any one read the inter­cepted letter of Fauchet, and recollect that it was written in confidence to the government, and doubt, if he can, that the counties then in a state of insurrection would have been supported by France, if she had been in possession of the ter­ritory she is now about to acquire. Such opportuni­ties will continually offer, as long as faction exists, and that it ever will do, as long as there is any thing to contend for. To judge of the future by the present tranquillity, is to presume that the billows have ceased to roll, because we see the sea in a calm.

Ever since the peace of 1783, France has be­held the commerce, carried on between America and Great Britain, with a watchful, jealous and envious eye. At first she endeavoured to turn [Page 76] the channel towards herself; but that having failed, she fell on the plan of subjugation. A French writer in treating of this subject observes, that ‘it would be a balance against the loans of England to the Atlantic merchants.’ By loans he means the credit given by the British merchants, and which is indeed a mine of gold to the farm­ers and merchants of America. There is some­thing really diabolical in this envy. They would sooner the country should be torn to pieces than it should trade with their rival.

They well know, that there is but one check to their ambitious projects; and that is, an alli­ance offensive and defensive between Great Bri­tain and America. They know, that by such an alliance they would be deprived of all their pos­sessions in the West Indies, and would be exclud­ed from the Atlantic seas. This alliance once formed, America might forbid them to set a foot in Louisiana, or might drive them and their ‘ na­tural allies,’ the Spaniards, into the Gulph of Mexico. It is with the consciousness of this on their minds, that they have been so sedulous in forming a faction to oppose every accommodating step, and every advance towards friendship, be­tween the two countries. They have the Machi­avellian maxim, "divide and you govern," con­tinually in their eye. They wish to keep them assunder, that they may devour them one at a time.

The most disagreeable circumstance at present, is, this cession of Louisiana will not be perfectly ascertained, till after the general peace; so that, though Great Britain is nearly as much interested [Page 77] in the event as America, she can take no steps to prevent it, because she will be disarmed before it be known; and their Myrmidons will be in possession of their promised land, before any measures of prevention can be adopted on the part of America. Something, however, must be done to preserve us from such neighbours, or the independence of this country will go to the grave before us. National precautions must be left to the rulers of the state, but every man has it in his power to contribute towards the discourage­ment of faction, that, at any rate, though there should be an enemy on the frontiers, there may be none in the heart of the country.

Such is the situation of America with respect to the insidious, unprincipled, insolent and per­fidious Republic of France; and it only remains for the virtue and public spirit of the people to determine, what sort of answer ought to be given to her presumptuous and domineering minister. Let it be well remembered, that the Notes, con­taining his calumnious accusations, his contemptu­ous defiance and hectoring threats, are not the effusions of a paragraphist or a pamphleteer: they are the official communications of a public minister, thrown in the teeth of the nation. In less than two months they will be read and com­mented on by half the civilized world. Those who know the American character will not be deceived; but far the greater part, will set us down as a nation of sharpers or poltroons, who have either not honesty to support our reputati­on, or not courage to defend it. If there be a man, who, with this reflection on his mind, can wish the government to stoop and cringe and sue [Page 78] and beg for peace, to court a repetition of the buffet that yet tingles in our cheek, he may boast about independence, he may even call himself a patriot; but his independence is an empty sound, and he knows no more of the animating glow of patriotism, where affection, duty and honour unite, than the slave knows of the charms of li­berty or the eunuch of the sweets of love.—No; the answer of every man, who loves his country and feels the insult it has received, yet prefers the blessings of honourable peace to the ine­vitable calamities of war, is, in the words of a good old English king that conquered France and all that France contained: