isplay
of the ill consequences which have attended an uniform course of
submission to every mode of contumelious insult, with which the
despotism of a proud, capricious, insulting, and implacable foe has
chosen to buffet our patience, does not appear to my poor thoughts to be
properly brought forth as a preliminary to justify a resolution of
persevering in the very same kind of conduct, towards the very same sort
of person, and on the very same principles. We state our experience, and
then we come to the manly resolution of acting in contradiction to it.
All that has passed at Paris, to the moment of our being shamefully
hissed off that stage, has been nothing but a more solemn representation
on the theatre of the nation of what had been before in rehearsal at
Basle. As it is not only confessed by us, but made a matter of charge on
the enemy, that he had given us no encouragement to believe there was a
change in his disposition or in his policy at any time subsequent to the
period of his rejecting our first overtures, there seems to have been no
assignable motive for sending Lord Malmesbury to Paris, except to expose
his humbled country to the worst indignities, and the first of the kind,
as the Declaration very truly observes, that have been known in the
world of negotiation.

An honest neighbor of mine is not altogether unhappy in the application
of an old common story to a present occasion. It may be said of my
friend, what Horace says of a neighbor of his, "_Garrit aniles ex re
fabellas_." Conversing on this strange subject, he told me a current
story of a simple English country squire, who was persuaded by certain
_dilettanti_ of his acquaintance to see the world, and to become knowing
in men and manners. Among other celebrated places, it was recommended to
him to visit Constantinople. He took their advice. After various
adventures, not to our purpose to dwell upon, he happily arrived at that
famous city. As soon as he had a little reposed himself from his
fatigue, he took a walk into the streets; but he had not gone far,
before "a malignant and a turbaned Turk" had his choler roused by the
careless and assured air with which this infidel strutted about in the
metropolis of true believers. In this temper he lost no time in doing to
our traveller the honors of the place. The Turk crossed over the way,
and with perfect good-will gave him two or three lusty kicks on the seat
of honor. To resent or to return the compli