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government at all. It was one continued scene of anarchy and confusion. Those terrible factions, the Jacobin, the Gironde, the Mountain, in their struggles for power, and their alternate ascendancy, continued to exhibit France as one great slaughter-house of human victims, without regard to guilt or innocence, sex or age. The whole nation seemed to have been metamorphosed into a nation of demons, wild and frightful, and drunk with human blood, with which they seemed incapable of being satiated.

And yet, strange as it may seem, and strange as it does now seem even to ourselves, there was a splendour, a magnificence about that revolution that riveted our admiration and sympathy with a force that could not be at once detached by all the horrors that accompanied it.

In the first burst of the revolution, nothing was seen by us but a brave and generous effort by the people for the recovery of their long lost rights and liberties. The spectacle of such a people, a people so endeared to us by recent services, rising, in such a cause, against the whole wealth and power of the court and the vast body of the nobles, temporal and spiritual, who had so long lorded it over France, was well calculated to enlist our strongest sympathies.--The first movements of the national convention, too, were marked with an energy, a grandeur, a magnanimity, and a power of eloquence such as the world had never witnessed, and such as no human heart could withstand.--And, then, when the combined armies moved upon France, the heroism with which they were met by the armies of the republic--chaunting, as they marched up in order of battle, the sublime strains of their national hymn--and the stupendous power with which they were beaten off, and their armies crushed and annihilated one after another--threw such a blaze of glory around the revolution as made us blind to all its excesses. Those excesses, too, came to us, veiled and softened by the distance, and by the medium through which they passed: and, however much to be deplored, we were ready, with the French patriots, to consider them as the unavoidable consequences of such a struggle, and to charge all the blood that was spilt in France, to the tyrants, abroad and at home, who chose to resist, to death, the rightful demands of the people.

Those "wonderful people," too, in the midst of the terrific scenes which they were daily enacting, contrived to throw a grace and a beauty around their public acts, and to gild even their wildest projects with a moral sublimity that effectually concealed, at the time, all their folly and injustice, and gave them a rapturous reception throughout the United States. Thus, when, in the rage of reformation which seemed determined to leave nothing of the old order of things remaining, they resolved to abolish the calendar, and, in lieu of the barbarous names by which the months had been distinguished, to introduce a new nomenclature, founded on the exhibitions of nature, in the different seasons: there was a poetic beauty in the conception and a felicity of taste in the execution of which no other nation on earth seemed capable. Their months of buds, flowers and meadows, of harvest, heat and fruit, of vintage, fog and sleet, of snow, rain and wind, were so beautiful and so expressive, that they extorted the admiration even of the reluctant world. Even the wild project of propagating liberty by the sword, and folding the whole human family in their fraternal embrace, was so bold and generous and grand, that, in the contemplation of its magnificence, we forgot its folly. And when, in execution of this project, the young hero of the republic crossed the Alps, and by a series of victories that eclipsed the brightest boasts of ancient history, brought Italy, Austria and Prussia to his feet, it seemed as if heaven itself had set its seal to the high resolve.

This sketch, imperfect as it necessarily is, will enable us to institute a comparison between the former revolution and the present. And we cannot but see that it was the slow, lingering, fluctuating course of the former revolution, and the repeated intervals in which there was, virtually, no government at all, that gave time for the demoralization of the people, and for the formation of those terrible factions within, and those powerful combinations without, which finally ended in its discomfiture. But here the blow has been struck, and the whole revolution rounded off and finished in three days. No time has been afforded for the demoralization of the people; none for the formation of factions within, or combinations without. The first intelligence that Europe, or even the remote provinces of France have of the affair is, that it is finished. It is this celerity, and the constant presence of an efficient government, which distinguish this revolution from the former and constitute its safety. The men who head this movement are practical men, with strong common sense, and with honest intentions. With the former revolution full in their view, and a thorough knowledge of all the causes of its miscarriage, they have gone to work in this case with the decision and despatch of men of business. They change their monarch, limit his powers, and there they stop. And what power in Europe can complain?

Can England? She has saved us the trouble of a speculation on this subject by a prompt acknowledgment of the existing government.

The question is every day becoming more complicated to them: and circumstances which, at first, seem calculated to provoke this attempt, immediately assume an appearance well fitted to discourage it. Thus the contagion is spreading: the Netherlands have risen and demanded a charter from their king. This is a new alarm to the neighboring monarchies. But the king of the Netherlands is a sensible and honest man, and has, we are told, already called the States General, with a view to the redress of the grievances of his subjects. This monarch has followed, in the main, the policy of England so closely as to leave but little doubt that he will be willing to adopt the British form of government; and that he will, also, follow her example in the immediate recognition of that of France. Similar governments will probably soon be instituted both in Spain and Portugal; and they will be recognized by England, France, and the Netherlands.

If, in spite of all these discouragements, those powers were mad or fatuitous enough to meditate such an enterprise, have they any reason to believe that it could succeed? Must they not see, on the contrary, that it would be utterly hopeless? Have they forgotten that when France stood alone, with all Europe combined against her, they found her invincible; that she swept their embattled hosts from every field, and led her victorious legions into their own capitals? One of these monarchs is reported already to have said that "he has had enough of French wars." Well may he say so; and well may Austria respond "Amen." They have not forgotten that Napoleon twice "struck their crowns into the hazard," and that it was by his gift that they now wear them. And although Napoleon be no more, they well know the gigantic power of France when armed in such a cause, and how readily a war upon her liberties will raise up some other Napoleon, probably from among the heroes of the Polytechnic school, once more to sweep like a whirlwind over their dominions, and to bring them again to his feet. If France, single-handed, was able to do this, while every power in Europe frowned upon her, what will she not be able to accomplish when cheered by the countenance, and perhaps supported by the arms of England?

Amid so many discouragements, is it conceivable that these powers will brave the consequences of an enterprise so full of despair? No one believes that their decision will be governed by any other motive than their own interest. Their own safety will be their supreme law. But will not this very consideration conduct them to the conclusion that it is their wisest course to keep the peace with France, and endeavor to preserve peace at home? Can they fail to perceive that the irresistible course of events must constrain them ultimately to make terms with their subjects; and that it is far wiser to make them at once, with as good a grace as remains to them, and to place their governments at least on the basis of the British constitution, of whose stability they have had such signal proof? Must they not see that it is far wiser thus to act, than to peril the consequences of that wild and desolating uproar throughout Europe, which an invasion of France would unquestionably produce?

That they will take the course that is wisest, because it is the wisest, may be problematical. But it is scarcely to be presumed that these sovereigns are so utterly bereft of reason as to provoke and precipitate their own ruin by a measure so hopeless. If they do attempt it, it can only be because Heaven, resolved upon their destruction, has first made them mad.

What course they will take is yet problematical. But supposing them to have the use of their reason, we have fair grounds of hope, that although the astounding character of the revolution, and of the progress of the same principles in the neighboring kingdoms may make them pause for a while, their own common sense will at length conduct them all to the conclusion, that there is no other course left for them but to recognize the existing government of France, and to direct their attention, exclusively, to their affairs at home.

Very much, indeed every thing, depends upon the prudence of France herself. If she shall stop where she is, remain quiet, united and happy at home, and avoid all interference with other governments, the work is done. If, on the other hand, storms should arise within to drive her from her present anchorage, and set the revolution afloat again on a sea of anarchy, every thing is to be feared for herself and for Europe. Is there any danger of such a relapse? That there are domestic malcontents, and perhaps foreign emissaries enough in the kingdom to make the wicked attempt, is probable enough. Is there any reason to believe that such an attempt will succeed?

The great security of France arises from her past experience, which must make her distrust all counsels tending to disunion and disorganization. There is, moreover, an efficient and watchful government in being, under whose jealous vigilance these incendiaries will have to carry on their machinations. What theme can they find of sufficient power to persuade the people of France to leave the port in which they now find themselves safe and happy, and to commit themselves again to those seas of whose dangers they have heretofore had such dreadful experience.

Will it be sympathy for the fallen house of Bourbon? There is no nerve in France that will respond to such an appeal. That house has no place in the affections of the people. It was forced upon them, at the point of the bayonet, in 1814. It has been tried a second time: found to be incurably despotic, and every indication attests that the revolution which has again ejected them from the throne, is, in this respect, popular throughout France. The influence of that family is extinguished for ever, in the kingdom.

Nor do we learn that there is any other competitor for the crown that has a party of sufficient strength to unfurl a banner in his cause with any hope of success. It is not a small faction that can disturb the peace of such a kingdom as that of France, instructed as they must necessarily be by their past experience.

The people of France finding themselves at once in the actual enjoyment of the sweets of peace and freedom, under the protection of a government mild, conciliating and efficient--open, moreover, to such amendments as experience shall suggest, will hardly be persuaded to go again in quest of anarchy and confusion, with the horrors and the catastrophe of the former revolution full in their view. No: they have not forgotten that fearful lesson: and to suppose them ready, without any necessity, to re-enact that tragedy, is to suppose them madmen, without any other claim upon the sympathies of the world than such as are felt for the inmates of a lunatic asylum.

The quiet and orderly manner in which the people restored the pavement of their streets, purified their city, and went back to their respective occupations, after their battle of three days, was, at that time, a pledge for Paris, always the most to be dreaded of any other part of the kingdom. They acted like honest and sensible workmen. They had a public job to do; they finish it, at once, with all possible moderation and humanity; and then peaceably resume their private pursuits.

Whom have they to quarrel with? The guards, it seems, fired upon them reluctantly, until their hearts would permit them to fire upon their fellow citizens no longer--when they throw down their arms and rush into their embrace in a manner so touching as to leave no doubt of the sincerity and permanency of the reconciliation. France, at large, seems tranquil. A few petty disturbances there may have since been; but they are the mere foam which was to have been expected from the fall of such a water-spout. Should more serious disturbances arise, from any public grievance which demands redress, who can doubt that it will be redressed, and that the people will be satisfied? We have this important guaranty for the tranquillity of France, that Lafayette is in the counsels of the king, and possesses the unbounded confidence of the people. With a perfect knowledge of his countrymen, and with an address of unrivalled tact to soothe and to conciliate, he is, moreover, at the head of the National Guards, and of the whole military force; and possesses, therefore, the power to entreat with energy, where moral persuasion fails. But we have no authentic information to justify the fear that the application of force will become necessary; and we have good reason to distrust those reports which, according to custom, will be continually thrown upon the London Exchange, for the unworthy purpose of speculations in stock.

The whole movement stands in striking contrast to the former revolution. In the two legislative houses there was no violence of debate. Differences of opinion there were: but there was no rude and bitter altercation. On the contrary, all was as calm and decorous as it was decisive. And so far from adopting the bloody revolutionary tribunal which characterised the movement of 1789, one of the first measures proposed is the abolition of capital punishment. It was made immediately after the arrest of the late ministers, and was supported by Lafayette; and no one who observes the point of time and knows the man, can mistake the purpose. How noble is this humanity to the fallen; and how strikingly and honorably does it distinguish the present revolution from the vindictive and sanguinary proceedings of that of 1789. Is it not manifest that every man who has had any thing to do with this affair, is acting with direct reference to the former revolution, and with a settled determination to avoid the false steps which led to its miscarriage? And is not this determination a most propitious pledge of the stability and success of the present revolution?

After all--in a case so dependent on the crooked policy of princes, and on the wayward and turbulent passions of man--it is possible that our hopes may be disappointed. Judging, however, by general appearances both in France and out of it, we have reason to cherish the hope that that beautiful country is at length as free as she chooses to be, and that the genius and taste, the fine sensibilities and generous affections which so pre-eminently distinguish her, will now have genial skies and full scope for their cultivation and expansion. Sure I am that I speak the sentiments, not only of this city but of the whole United States, when I say, that no nation will hail her success with a truer heart of joy than ours, and that there is none on which we believe that liberty will sit more gracefully and attractively than on hers.

Among the youth of the Polytechnic school, too, there was a beautiful little incident, so characteristic of the fine and delicate sensibility of the French, that I cannot forbear adverting to it. When those boys were required by the present king to designate from among their number the twelve most distinguished in the late conflict, with the view of conferring on them the decorations of the legion of honor--what was their answer? Permit me to read it, as extracted from our papers, for it is one of those things that will bear a second reading.

"There is a favor, however, we desire to ask of you. One of our comrades, Venneau, perished on the day of the 27th: We recommend to your kindness his father, who is in the service of the government, in the collection of the revenue. We recommend, farther, to your kindness, General, another of our comrades, Charras, dismissed from the schools by General Bourdsoulle on account of his opinions. We ask that he may be restored to our ranks, in which he did good service these few days.

"In the name of the Polytechnic school, the two scholars deputed by their comrades,

There is no parade here. It is the simple voice of nature, and goes, at once, to the heart of every reader. Such is France: radiant with taste and feeling and generosity in every department of her society: "in war, the mountain storm--in peace, the gale of spring." Long may the sun of liberty gild with his glories her vine-covered hills, her laughing valleys and her splendid cities.

With no pretence of right, and no wish to interfere with the political institutions of other countries, but, on the contrary, holding it to be the right of all to pursue their own happiness, in their own way, and under the form of government which they deem most conducive to that end--yet believing, as we do, that civil and religious freedom are essential to the happiness of man, and to the development of the high capacities, mental and moral, with which his Creator has endowed him, it is natural for us to rejoice when we see any nation, and more especially one so endeared to us as France, coming, of her own accord, into the fold of free governments. If there be any people who believe that their peace and order and happiness require the curb of a despotic government, be it so: their believing it, is proof enough to us that it is so, with regard to them: And however much we may regret, it is not for us to disturb their repose. Free government is good only for those who understand its value and are prepared for its enjoyment. It cannot be forced, with advantage, upon any people who are not yet ripe for its reception. Nations yet in darkness require, like children, to be disciplined and instructed before they can act with advantage for themselves. Their best instruction from abroad, is the example of other nations; their only proper teachers at home, are their own enlightened patriots; and the wisest process, the gradual diffusion of light among them. That a movement may be premature and end only in abortion and misery, the former example of France has instructed them. That it may be mature, and the deliverance easy, quick and safe, she has now given them a happy and beautiful illustration. It is only by such a revolution as this that the cause of liberty can present an attraction to the world. It is only in such a revolution that the humane and benevolent can take delight.

Charity is due even to the prejudices of princes. They are, probably, as much in the dark on this head, as their subjects. They have been taught from their cradles that they were born to rule, as their subjects have been taught from theirs, that they were born to be ruled. The mistake seems to be mutual, and is, perhaps, equally honest on both sides. Humanity requires that its correction should be attended with as little violence as possible, and this can be best effected by the gradual diffusion of light. Let us be content with the order of nature, which, however slow, is always safest and best. The sun does not spring at once from the nadir to the zenith. Such a leap would bring on a convulsion of nature and the crash of worlds. No: his ascent is gradual. Our eyes are accommodated, without pain, to his increasing light. The landscape is softly and beautifully unfolded, and the planetary system, in the meantime, maintains its harmonious and salutary action. The seasons revolve in their order; and the earth brings forth her flowers and her fruits, in peace. So let us be content to have it in the intellectual world. Let not vain man presume to be wiser than his Maker, and, in a foolish attempt to force the order of nature, create only misery, where he intended happiness.

Let us not fear that the light which has already gone forth will be extinguished. Tyrants might as well attempt to blot the sun from the firmament. They may attempt it; but "He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh them to scorn." The creatures formed for his worship will be permitted to worship him with exalted faculties and full liberty of conscience. Placed here for their common good and happiness, and indued with minds and affections fitted for enlightened intercourse, and the mutual interchange of kind offices, let us not be so impious as to fear that the light which has arisen will be suffered to be put out and the world re-plunged in darkness and barbarity.

Fellow citizens, this light was first struck in our land. The sacred trust is still among us. Let us take care how we guard the holy fire. We stand under a fearful responsibility to our Creator and our fellow creatures. It has been his divine pleasure that we should be sent forth as the harbingers of free government on the earth, and in this attitude we are now before the world. The eyes of the world are upon us; and our example will probably be decisive of the cause of human liberty.

Friends and fellow-citizens, "our lines have fallen to us in pleasant places: yea, we have a goodly heritage." Let us not mar it by vindictive altercations among ourselves, and offend the shades of our departed fathers who left this rich inheritance to us. Let us not tinge with shame and sorrow, the venerable cheek of the last surviving signer of the Declaration of our Independence, whom heaven still spares to our respect and affections. Let us not disappoint the world which still looks to us for a bright example, and is manifestly preparing to follow our steps. Let us not offend that Almighty Being who gave us all these blessings, and who has a right to expect that we will enjoy them in peace and brotherly love. It is His will that we should so enjoy them; and may His will be done.

ADDRESS

THE CITIZENS OF BALTIMORE

THE PEOPLE OF FRANCE.

FRIENDS AND ANCIENT ALLIES:

We, the people of Baltimore, in Convention assembled, do, with unqualified satisfaction, tender you our heartfelt congratulations, on the late glorious assertion of your undoubted rights. When we behold the many and severe trials through which you have passed, we cannot but express our joy, that your liberty is now fixed on a firm, and, as we ardently hope, an enduring basis. We must ever bear in vivid recollection, the efficacious assistance you so liberally extended to us in our day of peril. The blood and the treasure of France flowed freely in our cause. Under circumstances of great national difficulty you alone, among the nations of the world, interposed your shield for our protection. Frenchmen and Americans fought side by side in the holy contest for freedom; and variant as were their habits, religion, manners, and language, it is nevertheless true, that not a solitary instance of discord disturbed the harmony of the two people. The most exemplary citizen of America did not render more absolute submission to the laws, and to the civil authority, than did the gallant and devoted soldier of France. Such are the noble inspirations of liberty! These recollections are cherished with gratitude, and will be faithfully transmitted to millions of unborn Americans. To Heaven, to France, and to the stout hearts of our ancestors, are we indebted for all that man should most highly prize. And we rejoice that our ancient and faithful allies have triumphed over tyranny, have asserted their unalienable rights, and themselves ordained their great charter of government. We rejoice that this triumph has been accomplished with that mild and chastened spirit becoming the age, and peculiar to advanced civilization. No excess, no absence of moderation, no intemperate ardor nor vengeful aspirations. In this sublime display of courage and of humanity, of victory and of forbearance united, Americans are delighted to see the hand, and to recognize the benevolent spirit of the great and good LAFAYETTE, to whom the hearts of the people of Baltimore are bound by so many indissoluble and grateful associations. History affords no brighter example of cool and philosophic expression of matured thought, and of determined yet temperate action. The omen is most propitious, and a people so actuated must enjoy ages of that liberty they have so dearly yet so nobly achieved. That this brilliant omen may be carried out into happy reality, through all courses of time, is our sincere wish, and our most earnest supplication to HIM who holds the destinies of nations in his hand.

Transcriber's Note

'Bastille' is spelled both 'Bastile' and 'bastile' in this text, matching the original document.

The following changes have been made to the text:

Page 5: Added missing period

Page 7: Added missing comma

Page 7: Added missing comma

Page 24: Changed 'enterprize' to 'enterprise' for consistency with other cases in the address

Page 25: Changed 'recognise' to 'recognize' for consistency with other cases in the address

Page 39: Changed 'his' to 'His' for consistency with other references to an Almighty Being

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