LETTER XXII. Paris, October 29, 1802. PERHAPS as advantageous a peace, and with as much sincerity, might have been formed with the antecedent government of France as with the present; but we contemned and rejected its overtures, still fancying that one of the Bourbons would regain the throne, and we should treat with a legitimate monarch. Our arrogance and perversity have involved us in inextricable absurdities; for a long while we spurned the proffers of Bonaparte, with invectives and epithets which it would be a libel to reiterate; but fixed and determined in his designs, he repeated his offers, and armed and equipped, and hovered over the coasts, that England might know, that though the olive branch was extended, the sword was not sheathed; and though the emissaries uttered no word but peace, the designation of his troops menaced destruction, if we continued obstinate. When our fury and folly had spent themselves, we hastened to make peace with every power that could give it; and as the Bourbon's cause seemed forlorn and irretrievable, we liked the semblance of royalty in the supreme magistracy and individuality and pageantry of the excogitated sovereign; a trinitarian consulate concentrated in a sole authority, one and indivisible. We have always dreamed that we should coalesce more naturally with a monarchy, than with a republican state. From what have we infered this notion? Does the ex ་ perience afforded from the reign of Charlemagne, down to Lewis Capet, justify this opinion? The incessant contests with France shew how little they accorded; they never ended till the monarchy ended: the late King vented his last animosity in America; it conduced to the loss of our colonies; but by an unexpected circuit, returned to his own realms, and awakened a spirit that lost. him his kingdom and his life. We should assimilate better with a Republic; for whatever is the integral of our Constitution, the republican is the principal part, and the King is the executive power at its head. Bonaparte will try to sustain his popularity, and reconcile the people by brilliant military feats; by the nation's aggrandizement, or by adding new departments to the state; and as England has the reputation of being the wealthiest country in Europe, it will always be the object of jealousy and pillage. Lord Cornwallis may come to France, and Bonaparte may send to England; a treaty of peace may be formed, and the people seem to approximate, but their minds do not assimilate; a republican government is a radical structure; its base is solid and broad, and requires no factitious aid; there is no arrogated authority to support; there is nothing to veil and conceal; it exists by unanimous consent, and requires no artifice or delusion to maintain it. Here is the moral and political cement; not courtly, unmean ing manifestoes, but a concurrence of wishes, and a cordial alliance. We have all seen the levity and the inconstancy of the French; their inordinate propensity to change and novelty: in directing this passion to foreign matters, Bonaparte transfers their attention from his political being to extraneous objects; to exploits in the field; to commercial treaties; to colonial augmentations. When he negociates with England, his language is serene and pacific; but whenever he addresses the army or senate, bombastic descriptions of France, are followed by malevolent insinuations against England; and all the evils of the Revolution are obliquely ascribed to our arts and perfidy. If the French were disposed to the fraternization they proffered, he checks it by insinuating inuendos, and by |