• An interesting Letter from a Gentleman in Switzer­land, to his friend in America, describing the situa­tion of France, PAGE 53
  • Noah Webster's attack on Porcupine, PAGE 75
  • Porcupine's Answer, Letter I, PAGE 79
  • Letter II, PAGE 81
  • Porcupine's Last Will and Testament, PAGE 107
  • Index to the Gazette for March, 1797, PAGE 117

There is no Censor for February, this year.

PHILADELPHIA: Published by WILLIAM COBBETT, opposite Christ's Church. Where all Letters to the Publisher are desired to be addressed, Post paid.

Price, One Quarter of a Dollar.

[Page 53]

THE following Letter is so striking a picture of France and French Liberty, and has met with such universal approbation, that I thought it right to give it a place in the Censor.

My dear Sir,

I AM just returned from a very interesting tour, and will employ the few moments I remain in this place in giving you a short, and probably a very imperfect sketch of it. In my last I mentioned having a letter from the Marquis de la Fayette to 1[Page 54] his wife.—I had without consideration undertaken to forward it to Mr. Morris, our minister at Paris; but on reflection I was struck with the impropriety of enclosing him a letter from a man whose name alone was treason in France, and at a period when all letters were opened, and when the slightest and most innocent correspondence with emigrants, continually brought numbers to the guillotine.— I endeavoured both at Lausanne and at Geneva, to find some person going into France, who would promise to deliver it, but I easily preceived there was no one who would expose himself to such a risk—In this situation, the interest I felt for the character who wrote the letter, and a desire of seeing France at a period so critical, induced me, though still indisposed, to resolve on being the bearer of it myself. I applied to Citoyen Soulavia the French Resident at Geneva for a passport. He told me the one I had from Mr. Pinckney was bet­ter than any he could give me, but that in a time of revolutions the merest trifle might irritate the peo­ple, and with my English accent and appearance, he thought it advisable to give up entirely the idea of going to Paris. Not satisfied with his advice, I determined to apply to higher authority, and to wait on a representant du peuple, * who had lately arrived in the department bordering on Swit­zerland. The curious accounts I had heard of of this man made me desirous of seeing him; and I was fortunate enough to meet him a few days afterwards at Versoy. A representant du peuple is a sort of viceroy chosen in the bosom of the con­vention [Page 55] and sent into the departments by the a Comite de Salut publique, with the power to kill, burn and destroy, at the risque of losing his own head at his return. I was ushered into a room where this animal was summoned by his officers: his dress was curious; a Bonnet Rogue b with the mot­to, "Liberté Egalité &c." A woolen jacket and trowsers, an enameled c Bonnet de la liberté tied round his neck, with the tricoloured ribbon, and a card with his name "Gouly" hung at his but­ton hole, as a member of the Jacobin club; his hair cut short and without powder. I was re­ceived with d "Que veux tu mon frere?" "To know whether I could safely go to Paris under the protection of a passport from the American minis­ter in London" e "Ce n'nest pas mon Affair Va au Comité de Surveillance." The president of this comité proved to be an uncle to the professor Pictel of Geneva.—He was pleased to find that I was acquainted with his relation, shewed me much politeness, signed my passport; and when I asked him what the representant had done since his arrival, he wispered me in the ear, f "Il a tout change— Les gens riches sont arretés. Ceux qui etaient en place ne le sont plus, mon ami, c'est la fin du monde qui va ar­river." In the mean time the Citoyen Gouly sent to inform him that he would answer with his head for what he was about, that many agents of the infa­mous Pitt had been detected in France with Ameri­can passports—Instead of "Monami" from my friend [Page 56] the president, it was now, a "Ah Scélérat on te metira dans la ratti ére." and I was on the point of being hurried to prison. I insisted on seeing the representant, gained admittance, and so perfectly satisfied him respecting my being an American, that he insisted on my dining with him.—He put his seal of office to my passport, and told me I might now go to Paris without fear.—The scene that succeeded was curious, servant and master, officer and soldier, all sat down to table together, with their hats on. Gouly gave us an account of the descent that was soon to take place in England, and that in two months time, he it was that would be sent to de­stroy Carthage, and to cut off the heads of George and of Pitt. He declared that we had treated the Citoyen Genet very ill, that he he had been joined by the true patriots, but that Hamilton and his set were sold to Pitt.—I observed that though traitors were very easily to be found in some countries of Europe, I flattered myself that America had not yet got to that degree of corruption, and that the representative of a nation should never adopt any party.—He then gave us a dissertation on the bles­sings of Liberté, Egalité, and Fraternité, swore that the people in the departments into which he was sent were all aristocrats or egotists—that they had no esprit Revolutionaire, but before he left them, with the asistance of the guillotine, they should be b "bien montés à l' hauteur des circon­stances." I got up to take my leave, and was not a little surprised at his throwing his arms around my neck, and giving me the Baiser fraternel: this was an unfortunate compliment for me—it [Page 57] gave me so much consequence in the eyes of the people, that before I got out of Verloy I was kissed by the Mayor and all the municipality.— The day after, I set out on my journey to Paris, and notwithstanding the ridiculous scene I had been witness to, I flattered myself that I should return with many arguments to support my favourite o­pinion, "that after all their follies, and the horrors they had committed, the French would end by rendering themselves not only feared but re­spected."

I left Nyon on the 10th of Jan. but my chaise breaking down on the top of the Yurd, I was exposed for near two days to the most inclement weather at a small village called "les Roupes, the first French port, in Franche compt." I found a great degree of tranquility: they were happy in having the Swiss for their neighbours, and in the protection of their mountains.—At Dijon, Aux­ere, Sens, &c. the Esprit revolutionaire was in full force.—Crosses were broken, chapels burnt, ma­ny churches entirely destroyed, and those that re­mained had some part or other torn down; the celebrated convent of the Chartreux, near Dijon, a heap of ruins;—all the bells collected together to be turned into cannon; every house with the tri-coloured banner at the window, and the mot­to, "Lib. Ega. &c. &c." on the door, chaises, waggons, carts, all with their little flags;—the cap of liberté sculptured on the mile-stones, and the national colours painted even on the trees that line the Great road to Paris.—I had frequently been conducted by the guard to the comité de Sur­veillance, but had never met with any detention. —On my arrival, however, at Ponthieny about [Page 58] 30 miles from Paris, my fears began to increase, and I was agreeably surprised to hear that Saint Port, the country residence of Mr. Morris, was just opposite on the other side of the Seine.—I was happy in getting under the protection of his roof, and determined to wait for his advice before I proceeded. The next day I received a polite note from him, informing me that I should meet with no difficulties; and on the 20th I entered Paris for the first time. Instead of the noise and bustle I expected, there was a dead calm, the road appeared deserted, and not a carriage was to be seen in the streets.—I waited on Mr. Morris, and heard with regret that Madame de la Fayette was con­fined near her country seat in the South of France, with circumstances even of cruelty and indecency. —He had made a private application in her favour to the minister for foreign affairs, and was an­swered, "That she was fortunate in being so far from Paris, and that the greatest service her friends could render her, would be never to mention her name.

He smiled at my observations respecting the French revolution, and said he would leave me to form my opinion from experience.

I began by attending regularly the debates of the Convention—I entered the Tribune for the first time, with that respect one naturally feels at the idea of seeing the rulers of a great nation.—I found the President ringing his bell with all his might— half a dozen members speaking at the same time, and when they could not be heard from the chair, they attacked each other. It proved to be a quarrel respecting a member who had been de­nounced. [Page 59] The figures of the Roman worthies ornamented the walls, the busts of Brutus, Le Pelletier, and Marat, surrounded the President's chair, opposite was a large thing like a trunk— It was the Ark of the Covenant, covered with tri-coloured ribbons. I had an opportunity some days afterwards of seeing on the place of the Bas­tile a great stone figure of Liberty and an immense trough, out of which the deputies drank large draughts of water to the Goddess on the adoption of their last constitution. There was a poor fel­low who narrowly escaped being guillotined for observing, that no doubt many wished it was wine.

The National Convention I soon perceived to be a farce; of the 749 members of whom it was first composed—155 had either given in their dismis­sions, were guillotined, confined, assassinated, or taken prisoners: 228 from the 17 different comités for the transaction of business; a considerable num­ber are sent into the departments, and those who set in the convention appear to meet merely for the purpose of giving an apparent sanction to the measures of the comité de salut publique. The Pre­sident is continually engaged in receiving addresses, patriotic donations, and in giving the honours of the sitting and the Baiser fraternel. I was witness to a laughable scene of this kind;—a deputation from St. Domingo entered the hall, it consisted of a white man, a mulatto and a negro. La Croix mov­ed that the circumstance should be distinguished by the * accolade of the President. The white man first flew into his arms, and was embraced most tenderly—the mulatto was hugg'd with still more affection—but when he came to the negro, had it [Page 60] been a mistress, he could not have pressed her more ardently—there was no end to the kisses that were given and received amidst the repeated applause of the Convention and the Tribunes—The next day, they voted the emancipation of the slaves, and de­clared, that they would form with all negroes and mulattos a ‘TRICOLOR'D COALITION which would soon destroy the combined powers of aristocra­cy and tyranny’—An old negro wench, who was in one of the tribunes, thought this so fine, that she fainted away, she was immediately brought into the bosom of the Convention,—the members crowded round her, and again fell a kissing, not only the negro's, but each other.—I next attended the Jacobin club; they met about 7 o'clock, but the tribunes were filled before 6, with the vilest collection of people I think I ever saw, mostly women and children. The fitting opened by read­ing the procès verbal of the preceding evening, by which it appeared that a deputation of Blacks had been received most fraternally, and that it had unanimously decreed, that a flag should be hung over the chair of the President, on which should be a negro, a mulatto, and a French man holding up together the banner tri-coloured. Some bad verses were afterwards read in favour of the mountain, made by a woman, who attended the debates, and to this succeeded the epuration of the members. The questions asked on this occa­sion are where were you on the 10th of August? How did you vote in the case of Marat? Were you ever a banker or an agent de change? * Among others that were to be examined, was [Page 61] one Chambertoy; as soon as he began his answer, a black-guard looking fellow who was sitting next me got up, bawled out for the "parole"n—He swore that Chambertoy was a rascal and an aris­tocrat; another declared him to be as much of a patriot as the king of Prussia; Chambertoy said a few words, when a woman got up behind him, and gave him the lie in plain terms. The most violent noise and uproar succeeded, and I was con­vinced that Chambertoy would be turned out; at length, a child about thirteen or fourteen years old, a member of the club, mounted the tribune, made a long speech, observed that no person should be condemned, without being heard, and gained Chambertoy an opportunity of making his defence; he proved that he was one of the party who proposed the events of the 10th August (for they now consider as the greatest merit in them­selves, what they attributed to their king as the greatest crime.) He shewed a wound he had re­ceived at the Thuilleries, and was re-admitted with unbounded applause.—I was indebted, after­wards, to my being taken for an Englishman, for the pleasure of seeing Robespierre—they were satisfied, on my shewing a certificate from Mr. Morris, signed by the minister for foreign affairs, and made way for a "brave American"—I had thus an apportunity of approaching very near Robespierre at the Jacobin club. He is a little man, very pale and thin, decently dressed, in general, a light coloured great coat, and powder in his hair, much the appearance of a petty-fog­ing attorney: He was listened to with great at­tention, and brings out his words with an almost [Page 62] affected slowness, while every other person speaks with violent passion.—They distributed in the tri­bunes,o a most ridiculous essay on the English con­stitution; when one Brichet got up and moved, that the club, before it debated the great question of a descent into England, and the vices of the Bri­tish government, should occupy itself in destroying the "toads that had crawled up the mountain," and that at least thirty members of the Conventi­on should be guillotined. Robespierre observed, that he was an Intrigant and an ultra revolution­aire. p and moved that he should be turned out, which was immediately decreed; a friend of Brichet got up to take his part; Robespierre moved that he should share the same fate, and they turned him out also.

Frequently on leaving the convention, I past through the garden of the Thuilleries to the place de la revolution, in order to get there after the exe­cutions had taken place, and was once or twice so unfortunate as to be a witness of them. It is out of my power, my dear friend, to give you a compe­tent idea of this scene. Near the door of the con­vention you see two men with great fur caps and long beards, reading to the people the crimes of the kings of France and abusing them all from Charlemagne to Louis XVI. A little further is a woman singing patriotic songs and giving lessons of morality; on the other side, is a man preaching against Jesus Christ. Every where you are pester­ed with journals and the productions of Pere Du­cheine and Camaille des Moulines. At the entrance [Page 63] of the gardens, are two restaurativesq filled with people, eating drinking and laughing—opposite is the guillotine, and at ten yards from it is a puppet show, where punch is guillotined! Here you see figures dancing on wires, there an exhibition of pictures, and a calf born with a national cockade on its fore­head—a crowd of women, and a collection of dogs immediately under the guillotine; children peeping into the hampers that hold the bodies, and men sell­ing the names of those who have just suffered, and crying out "Venez domain n'y manquez pas, vous en aurez plusieurs, vous aurez des femmes r. It is dif­ficult to say which are most mad, the spectators or their sufferers. I have heard people in the streets observe to each other, "ou allons nous, voulez vous aller au caffe ou a la guillotine?" s I have seen wo­men go to be executed, as if to an entertainment, chattering and paying compliments to each other, even at the scaffold; some laughing, cry, ‘vive la republique,’ the people call for the head, to see whether it still smiles. But what adds the greatest horror to the scene, is the gaiety, that reigns on every countenance!

I attended many of the trials at the tribunal re­volution; you there find the forms of justice, but none of the reality. It consists of two courts, the salle de la liberté and the salle de l'egalité; each com­posed of three judges, besides the president and an accusateur publique—all dressed in black gowns, and black feathers in their hats; round their necks a national ribbon, to which hangs a gold medal.— [Page 64] The jury consists of ten persons, the clerk reads the accusation. The witnesses are examined, the accused is asked if he has any thing to say for him­self, the accusateur publique speaks, and is answer­ed by the defender chosen by the prisoner. The pre­sident declares the debate to be finished. The ac­cused is carried out, the jury give in his verdict, and the accused is brought back to hear his sen­tence; if he is condemned, he wishes the company a good morning, and goes away to be executed within 24 hours. If he is acquitted he embraces the whole court; some of the spectators are pleas­ed when this happens to be the case, but I have heard others say, "je n'aime pas les voir echap­per à la guillotine;"t not only the judges, and the accusateurs publiques, but the jury also, are nominated by the convention, that is, by comité de salat publique, and you may easily conceive the spirit which they receive; accuser, judge and ju­ry, all appear anxious to find the prisoner guil­ty, and if he is noble or has property he is al­most sure of being condemned.

Paris is perfectly quiet! One part is a desert, the other is plunged into the profoundest apathy; and no where is there so little appearance of inter­est in the affairs of France as in its own capital. There are from sixteen to twenty spectacles (thea­tres) every evening, and once each Decade all the theatres are opened gratis, to the populace, when some patriotic piece is given. The guillo­tine was generally the best attended; but to ren­der the piece sufficiently amusing and wind up the esprit revolutionaire, they are obliged at times to execute women, or some remarkable character. [Page 65] There are a set of people paid to attend the Con­vention, the Jacobin club, the Tribunal revoluti­onaire, and the guillotine, to keep up an appear­ance of popularity.

There is no truth of which I am so perfectly convinced, as that the great majority of the people in France are already against the revolution, and would be happy to change for any government whatever, the horrid tyranny under which they suf­fer. One of the members of the comite de salut publique has been heard to say, "We know that nine out of ten are against us; but the tenth man shall make the other nine march." A president of a jacobin club not far from Paris, has whisper­ed to me "Un roi foible est un fleau;" and I have never had an opportunity of conversing with any person above the lowest class, who did not ex­ecrate the tyrants of the day. In the mean time, the military disposition of the French, the atten­tion which is paid to the army, the unlimited pow­ers of the comite de salut publique, and the immense riches on which they have siezed, will give the ruling faction the means of making the strongest resistance, and it is possible they may involve in their own destruction the ruin of all France. There was a time when, besides the Vendee, Bourdeaux, Toulon, Marseilles, Lyons, Strasburg, were all for a counter revolution, and had the combined pow­ers, instead of the detestable policy of dismember­ing France, been seriously occupied with the idea of putting Louis XVII. on the throne, it might have been effected. The Vendee was left to be destroyed by numbers after giving repeated proofs of the most astonishing bravery. Bourdeaux was [Page 66] on the point of declaring, but the mayor, who was a man of property, hesitated, Lyons became a les­son, Bourdeaux escaped, but the mayor was guil­lotined; Marseilles still suffers under the wrath of the convention; Lyons, though obliged to adopt the language of the day, fought for royalty, she expected assistance, but was cruelly disappointed; Strasburg offered itself to general Wurmser, if he would accept it for Louis XVII. His orders were to take it for his master: in the mean time the representatives of the people entered the city and guillotined all who were suspected. The oppor­tunity has been neglected and humanity shudders at the approach of the next campaign. For two years past it has been expected, and even wished by some, that the want of provisions would put an end to the exertions of France. Those who en­tertained such hopes did not reflect that the army would be the last to suffer and the innocent the first victims. The papers mention but 5450 persons, but I know from good authority that there are at least 15,000 confined at Paris, and those who are arrested in the departments may amount to about 250,000. Would not these as the "Bouches inutiles" be the first sacrificed? In some places already, the soldiers receive good bread while the people are obliged to eat that which is made of po­tatoes and bran. The prospects of a famine in France were probably never more serious than at the present moment, and the French may suffer greatly before their harvest; but they will not starve. In many cantons the bread is good and cheaper than in Switzerland: in Paris it is bad, but is sold at the maximum; in some few places the wheat was expended: the occasion of this dif­ference [Page 67] is that all grain remains in requisition in each canton—wheat is in general scarce. I have seen some of the people laugh at their own wants, and cry "il n'y a point de misère en France," and when I have asked the postillion which was the best inn, at the place I was going to, he answered in the greatest levity, "Il y en a deux mais on n'a pas de pain, et que fait on alors? On s'echauffe! There is one circumstance which after much in­quiry I found to be certain, that in the department through which I past, there was as much corn planted as at any former period.

I went to Paris by the northern road, and re­turned by Nevers, Moulins and Lyons; at the first of these places many of the populace were intox­icated, and I could hardly get any person to exa­mine my passport; they had just taken up about 70 priests; these unfortunate men had conformed to all the decrees of the Convention; some of them had married—many were old and some invalids; they were crowded with great inhumanity on board a batteau to be sent to Brest. I asked one of them who attended, what was to be done with them? I believe, said he, they are going to drown them—this they call the New Baptism of Priests. Moulins was formerly famous for its manufactories in cutlery; its commerce was destroyed as well as that of every other city in France. But imagina­tion cannot conceive the miserable situation of Lyons; all that was beautiful in building, rich in commerce, or respectable in inhabitants, is totally destroyed: the place de Belle Cour, formerly one of the most [Page 68] beautiful in the world, does not exist. The noble range of buildings near the Rhone, a heap of ruins, and the dust that arises from the hordes they con­tinue to demolish, renders the air almost suffocating. They had just torn to pieces 60 persons with grape-shot; the bodies were afterwards shifted by women and children, with the utmost degree of indecency. The Guillotine had been illuminated on the anniver­sary of the king's execution. It had cut off 28 per­sons the day before my arrival, and was again pre­pared. Adjoining to it is the grand Autel de la pa­tria, where there are fetes every decade. I went into the Hotel de Ville to get my passport ex­amined; I was surrounded by officers—here a crowd were waiting to be married, there they were waiting to be divorced. I saw a burial; the corpse was on a bier half uncovered, with the bonnet rogue on the head; all those who attended had their heads ornamented in the same manner, and follow­ed the body singing the carmagnole. The executi­ons at Lyons, had already amounted to above 3000 persons, and to those who spoke of mercy, the re­presentans had answered, "that there were 10,000 more to suffer." There are two tribunals conti­nually employed in condemning. The "commis­sion militaire and the tribunal populaire." and wo­men, have been carried to the guillotine, to be witnesses of the execution of their husbands, mere­ly for having solicited their pardon. I was oblig­ed to remain at Lyons near two days from the diffi­culty of getting horses, and was happy to get out of it and relieve my eyes from such a scene of hor­ror and madness. The great instigator of all the cruelites that are committed in this unfortunate [Page 69] city is Collot d'Herbois; this man was not long ago an inferior comedian, and has often acted at the theatres of Lyons and Geneva; he was the president of the comite that formed the last con­stitution; at present heads that party which is called by some Ultra Revolutionaire, and as the peo­ple here always join those who go to the greatest excesses, it is probable that Collot d'Herbois, He­bert, the author of the Pere Duchene, and their set, may treat Robespierre and the Marates as they did the Brissotines. When any man gets to the top of power, he naturally feels himself in­terested in the welfare of the country, and un­willingly adopts moderation as one of the means of increasing his popularity. Robespierre wished to have a motion past for liberating all those who had been arrested without any grounds of accu­sation; the number of whom you may easily con­ceive to be very great, when for some time every person who denounced another received 100 livres. Such however was the clamour, that he was ob­liged to abandon the idea. He next, without ap­pearing himself, set Camille des Desmoulins to write against the violent party: he begins by de­claring himself a votary of the divine Marat. He was however expelled from the Jacobin Club for having mentioned comité de clemence: and be­fore he could be re-admitted, was obliged to con­fess his error. It is the violent party, who, to amuse the people, have started the idea of a de­scent into England. Robespierre declares, that the English only merit their contempt; that if they are desirous of having their liberty, they are capa­ble of gaining it for themselves, and if they are not, a descent into England would only be throw­ing themselves into the snares of Pitt.

[Page 70]The Jacobin Club is the source of power, and those who lead it govern France. It keeps up an intimate correspondence with all the inferior clubs in the different departments, and takes care that they shall be formed of none but the vilest and most ignorant of the inhabitants, entirely devoted to itself. It is the seat of information, gives what impression it pleases, and a defeat in the north is represented in the south as a victory. It has caused all the miseries of France, and composed as it is at present, no good can ever be expected from it: God knows what will be the end, and we are at a loss what to hope. The French ap­pear incapable of being free; the government of an usurper only leads to new convulsions; the people when fatigued with the present mode of government may change it for something new. Liberty is at present the fashion in France; you meet it at all the corners of the streets; it is stuck up in large characters on every house; it spouts at the theatre; it struts at the opera; it is be­come a by-word—I never heard so much, and never saw so little of it. The "Ancien Regime" has totally disappeared, and decade is as much in vogue as if Sunday had never existed. But will not a people who have, with so much levity, a­bandoned their religion, forget in the same man­ner their liberty? Such appears to be the cha­racter of the French, a soil where every thing flourishes for a time but nothing takes root; if well or ill directed, a character capable of the greatest extremes of virtue or of vice.

I entered France one of the warmest advocates of the revolution; I firmly believed that the great body of the people had just ideas of liberty, were [Page 71] acquainted with their rights, and after defeating the attempts of their enemies, would then estab­lish an equal and well regulated government. I left it with sentiments of indignation, disappoint­ment, and disgust, convinced that there never was a people in the world so little calculated to enjoy the blessings of freedom.

During my stay at Paris, I found nothing so interesting as the conversation of Mr. [...] He had been so obliging before my arrival, as to take lodgings for me near his own hotel; and I had the pleasure of seeing him every day. He was formerly exceedingly well received at court, and possessed in a great degree the confidence of its ministers, and has since been able to render him­self, though not liked, yet respected by all the parties that have succeeded: though a man of great abilities, he must have found it difficult to have steered so far with safety, through the storm: and America is indebted to him for remaining in a situation, which, though none can fill it with more capacity, cannot but be particularly irksome to him. All those for whom he could have felt any consideration, have either emigrated, been arrest­ed or guillotined, and from being in the most a­greeable society, he is left with hardly an acquain­tance in France: the conduct he has pursued was the only one of avoiding all parties and maintaining in every respect the dignity of his situation. He par­ticularly detested the Brissotines, whose policy it was to draw America into the war, and had they not been guillotined, Genet might have done us considerable mischief. Mr. [...] read me some of his correspondence, and I was surprized at the accuracy with which he had foretold the princi­pal [Page 72] events of the revolution. These letters have fallen into the hands of persons, who from being, I believe, prejudiced in favour of the French, have neglected to pay them the attention which they so highly merited.

A party of Americans have petitioned the Con­vention in favor of Tom Paine; they were invit­ed to the honours of the sitting, but could not be much flattered when a few days after a set of ne­groes were received with far greater attention. As the French have no farther occasion for Common Sense, or the Rights of Man, Tom Paine still re­mains in prison, where he abuses Mr. Morris for not claiming him as an American, and amuses himself, I'm told, with writing a book against Je­sus Christ.

It is difficult to meet with beauty at Paris, all the pretty women are in requisition; they are con­fined and employed in making shirts for the ar­my. I endeavoured to console myself at the Gal­lery of Paintings, which is without exception the finest in the world—a collection of all the most valuable paintings that existed in France. Many Americans have been arrested on their first enter­ing the Republic, and you are searched half a dozen times before you are permitted to leave it. I returned by Geneva and found the violent party worthy imitators of their neighbours—they had found that their last project of a constitution was impracticable, and accepted a new one, which the day after was violated. As there was a Ven­dee in France, they were determined to have one also. It consisted of one house and of one man, a Mr. Miquily; his house was surrounded, his [Page 73] furniture destroyed, and himself thrown into pri­son. The Comité provisoire accompanied the Marsellois who went on this expedition in order to prevent mischief, but such was their impoten­cy, that a poor man was torn to pieces, before their faces for refusing to put on the Bonnet Rouge. On entering Switzerland I felt as if I had at length escaped from a mad house and again got into the society of reasonable beings.

I have without thinking, permitted my letter to run on to an immoderate length; you will I flat­ter myself, excuse not only the length of it, but also the hurry in which I have written it.

The active life I led at Paris, and the excellent table of Mr. —, have been of service to my health, and since I have found that exercise is a remedy, I shall not remain idle; I leave this place immediately for Milan, where my carriage hor­ses have been arrived near two months. I ex­pect to pass the Holy week at Rome. The heat will soon oblige me to leave Italy, when I propose going to Vienna, to which place I have excellent letters.

I am anxious to hear from you, pray write to me frequently. There is no expressing the inte­rest I feel in whatever passes in America.

I remain most sincerely, your affectionate —.
[Page 75]


IN a late paper, we inserted sentiments of this kind, that the putting up in the Coffee House, a card, on which was painted the English flag, was a low pitiful business, equalled only by the meanness of putting up a French flag, and that it is servile to be bandied about between the flags of different foreign nations. We ought to unite under our own flag and learn to be a nation.

Peter Porcupine has copied the paragraph with disapprobation, and says it contains more of vul­gar prejudice, and mistake, than of justice or good policy. He observes that it is the ‘quo animo,’ the intention of the act that stamps its character. He would have no foreign flag hoist­ed, as a rallying point for malcontents against their own government; but to unite the Ameri­can Eagle with the British Lion against an am­bitious enemy, he thinks, would be an act that we need not be ashamed of. He then speaks of an alliance of that kind, as honourable and ad­vantageous to both parties.

[Page 76]No comment will be made on the insinuation of "Vulgar Prejudice," against the Editor of the Minerva. When Peter becomes acquainted with the editor's real character, he will learn, that in a combat of that kind, he himself must certainly be the loser.

But we contest Peter's principles. It was strong­ly suspected many months ago, that his principles are not very friendly to the independence of Ame­rica, and still less so, to the form of our govern­ment. This suspicion has been greatly increas­ed by the manner in which his gazette has been conducted. His retailing abuse against la Fay­ette, whose sufferings (even suppose him to have been in fault, which is doubtful or not admitted) are far too severe, and call for the sympathy of all mankind, denotes a man callous to the mise­ries of his species, and extremely disrespectful to the opinions of the Americans, who entertain friendship and gratitude for la Fayette. We ob­serve also whole columns of some of the first num­bers of Peter's gazette, filled with ‘apologies for the old government of France,’ that is, for the feudal system, though in a relaxed state, and for as corrupt a system of despotism as Eu­rope ever witnessed.

The success of Peter's pen, in attacking the de­mocratic factions of our country, has perfectly intoxicated him; and he mistakes the sense of A­merica extremely, when he supposes the danger we have escaped of being prostrated at the feet of France, will urge us to lay our country at the feet of Great-Britain.

[Page 77]No, Peter; your abusing the men who fought for our Independence, and your recommending the old Government of France, are not the means by which your popularity is to be maintained. The old government of France was not so bad, as the Jacobin government, it is true; but there is a government different from both, which la Fayette sought, and which the people of this coun­try will rejoice to see introduced, that is, a Free Government.

As to an alliance with Great-Britain, we want none except what is dictated by commercial views. Here our interest, calls for mutual aid and pro­tection. So far as Great Britain will protect our trade, for her own sake, we shall gladly receive it, and no farther.

We ask no favours of Great-Britain, nor of any other nation; for this would lay the foundation for more claims of gratitude, with which we have been outrageously tormented by the French, and their hirelings. The United States and Great Britain are allied by interest. Setting aside same­ness of language, habits and private connections, no two countries are so closely united by com­mercial advantages. Nor can this union of in­terest, for a long time to come, have a competi­tor. It is as much for Great-Britain's interest (not to say more) to protect our vessels, as it is ours to have them protected. So far an alliance will arise out of necessity and convenience, which will require very little modification by express agreements. As to any thing like a general trea­ty, offensive and defensive, God forbid. Sooner may the United States be doomed to encounter 28 [Page 78] another eight years war for Independence, than hold the blessing at the mercy of any foreign na­tion.

No, Peter; the man who writes this, once vo­luntarily bore arms to defend Independence, in pursuance of the same principles, he first proposed publicly the plan of a National Constitution, per­severing in the same principles, he assailed the monster, FACTION, the moment it appeared, in the insidious form of popular clubs: and from that moment to this, he has never ceased to ex­pose the artifices of the French agents to lay this country at the feet of France. With the same determined zeal and firmness, Peter, he now openly declares war against the man who dares to vilify the defenders of American Independence, or to propose an alliance that would commit that independence to the power of a foreign state, or to the fate of European contests.

Americans desire peace, and rejoice that the flags of all nations stream in their harbours. But the man who unites a foreign flag with that of his own country, on the territory of the United States, without an order of government, is a factious man, and has not the honour of his country at heart. This little emblem of national honour ought no more to be the signal for mobs and for violence in a neutral country.

Such, Peter, is my political creed—I know no party, but that of MY COUNTRY. My country is INDEPENDENT; it is for our interest, the interest of Great Britain, and of all Europe, that it should be so; and the man who seeks to tack it on any foreign country, to involve it in European broils, [Page 79] or make its independence the sport of European policy, is conceived to be an ENEMY. As such, his intrigues will be exposed and his influence re­sisted, by all those decent and legal means, that distinguish the gentleman and the good citizen.

P. S. If Peter Porcupine's views are mistaken, it belongs to him to remove the impressions which his writings made on the genuine friends of this country.




YOU tell me and the public, that you, "with determined zeal and firmness, now openly declare war against me;" and that ‘I must certainly be the loser. Softly, 'Squire Webster: it is not so certain, perhaps, as you may imagine. If you had remembered the fable of the man who sold the lion's skin, and was afterwards killed in hunt­ing him, you would not have cried victoria! before you had given your antagonist time to return your fire.

[Page 80]This, Sir, I desire you to look upon as a coun­ter-declaration; as a preparative for repulsing the unprovoked attack. Your long, familiar, and modest address should have been answered this day (notwithstanding the certainty of my being the loser) did not the very extraordinary remarks it contains call for delay, in order to afford time for a full and fair discussion of a subject, of much greater importance than the "political creed" of a news-monger. In the mean time, Sir, be not too con­fident of victory. ‘Atchieve me first, good 'Squire, and then sell my bones.’

For your attachment to the government under which we live and prosper, and for the services (however trifling) you have rendered it, accept the respects of

Your humble servant, P. PORCUPINE.


"Vain, fickle, blind, from these to those he flies,
"And ev'ry side of wav'ring combat tries;
"Large promise makes, and breaks the promise made;
"Now gives the Grecians, now the Trojans aid."

SOME days ago I promised you an answer to your Address (or whatever else you may please to call it) of the 21st of March. It luckily matters little how this answer begins. Aware I suppose of the uncouth manners of the man you were about to assail, you kindly contrived that the rudeness of your attack should furnish an ample apology for his want of politeness.

Your Address treats of your important self, of me, and of the proposed alliance between the United States and Great Britain. This alliance is a subject of two much consequence to be blend­ed with an enquiry into your and my character, principles, and conduct, I shall therefore reserve it for a separate letter; not losing, however, the present opportunity of declaring, that your reason­ing, [Page 82] instead of convincing me that I was mista­ken, has strengthened, as far as any thing in it­self contradictory can strengthen, the opinion which gave so much offence to your wisdom.

You set out with telling the public, that, ‘in a late paper, we inserted sentiments of this kind, that the putting up in the Coffee House, a card, on which was painted the English flag, was a low pitiful business, equalled only by the meanness of putting up a French flag, and that it is servile to be bandied about between the flags of different foreign nations. We ought to unite under our own flag and learn to be a na­tion.’

You then complain of my having quoted the passage "with disapprobation," which with the application of the words vulgar prejudice, was, it seems, a stretch of presumption which your pride could not forgive.

I must confess, that, to venture to quote "with disapprobation" the oracular precepts flowing from the lips of the high priest of Mi­nerva, was rather bold; but (and with due sub­mission be it spoken) it was not so much your advice as your partiality, your versatility, that I disapproved of. You have uttered such cart­loads of sentiments, that it is absolutely impos­sible you should recollect one half of them; and as, in politics particularly, you are led by no fixed, no polar-star principle, it is as impossible that you should ever be consistent long together. Your saying that the putting up of an English flag "was a low pitiful business," sounds well; but did you say this when the French flag was [Page 83] put up? No; you called that neither low nor pitiful: it was even honoured with your ap­plause, as far as a man, who looks upon him­self as the exclusive possessor of all that is praise-worthy, can applaud the actions of others. The hoisting of the French flag was attended with feasting and noise, little inferior to what we have witnessed at the celebration of the murder of the Swiss Guards: yet it escaped your censure: it was suffered to hang very peaceably, and to re­ceive the adoration of the devout sans-culottes of New-York: folly was permitted to revel at the foot, as it were, of the shrine of wisdom, for the space of three whole years, without re­ceiving either chastisement or rebuke. But, be­hold the difference! The moment a representa­tion of the British flag appears, though painted on a bit of paper only, and intended merely to produce a little sport, you cast off your lethargic forbearance. Your patriotism, that patriotism, which slept like a dormouse, while the French flag was not only hanging up in the Coffee-Room, but was borne about your streets to elections and town-meetings; that drowsy patriotism, which seemed scarcely to perceive a banner of two yards square, though it brushed its very nose, became all alive, took fire in a moment, upon sight of a British flag in miniature.

You do, indeed, now talk about the ‘mean­ness of putting up a French flag;’ but when do you find courage to do this? At the moment the people around you are got tired and ashamed of their bauble. Far were you from calling it a meanness, and so far from it that your voice was one of the most sonorous in the ridiculous and [Page 84] disgraceful hue-and-cry, raised against those who pulled it down, in the month of May, 1795.— On that occasion you very patrioticly observed, that it was hoped that the flags of the sister re­publics would have remained undisturbed by the enemies of our peace; and then, on you go to express your abhorrence of the conduct of the sacrilegious wretches whose impious hands had re­moved them. And, recollect, that you took spe­cial care not to utter a syllable against the savages, who attempted to murder a British Officer, to avenge "the mighty wrong." To intrude your precepts, therefore, at this time; to strut and hector over the poor fallen Tricolor, and to call on your readers to unite under their own flag, and learn to be a nation,’ entitles you to but very little praise. Your advice comes too late. The patient was in a state of convalescence, be­fore you ventured to prescribe: French priva­teers, jails, whips, and irons, had effectually re­moved the malady of the public, while you stood fumbling its pulse. Had the same stupid admiration of the French, that prevailed, and that you participated in, for several years; had this admiration and its concomitant partiality still existed, you would never have dared (with all your heroism) to call the hoisting of their flag "a low pitiful business:" you would prudently have left that to a writer of less caution and more sincerity, reserving to yourself the agree­able task of endeavouring to disfigure his motives and blast his fame.

And, was it then such a heinous offence to quote a writer of your stamp ‘with disapproba­tion,’ or apply to him the charge of vulgar [Page 85] prejudice? It would be curious to hear, on what it is that you ground your right of exemption from all censure and criticism. Besides, to say that a man has adopted a vulgar prejudice, is cal­culated to give offence to no one but an illiterate booby, who does not know the meaning of the words, or a captious, inflated self-sufficient pe­dant. Yet it is this phrase, and this alone, that has provoked you to seek retaliation, and retalia­tion, too, of the most base and malicious species. —‘We contest (say you, after declaring that I am unable to cope with you) We contest Pe­ter's principles. It was strongly suspected many months ago, that his principles are not ve­ry friendly to the independence of America, and still less so to the form of our govern­ment.’

The grammatical inaccuracy of this last sen­tence, though fallen from the pen of a language-maker, it would be foreign to my purpose to re­mark on: it is the slander it conveys, that it is my duty to expose.—"It was strongly suspected." This is the true gossiping, calumniating style. All verbal assassins speak in the passive voice, that, what they cannot prove, they may at last throw on public report. If you had said, I suspected many months ago,’ though it would have led to a detection, you would have acted more like a man; and this might have been expected too, in a volunteer of your ‘determined zeal and firmness.’

However, as you are very fond of the pom­pous plural number and passive voice, perhaps, it is but fair to suppose, that you mean to inti­mate, 29 [Page 86] that you suspected my principles many months ago; and, if this was really the case, pray how came you to recommend my pamphlets to the perusal of your readers, as the best antedote to the anarchical principles of the enemies of the government? How many months ago was it that your penetration made the grand discovery? When I proposed publishing a paper, which was no more than about six weeks anterior to the date of your Address, you told the public in an exulting manner, that I should ‘prove a terri­ble scourge to the patriots,’ meaning Bache, Greenleaf, and all the antifederal crew. Six weeks 'Squire Webster, is not many months. If you really suspected my enmity to the government, and to the independence of America, you were a very great hypocrite, if not something of a traitor, to applaud my undertaking; and, if on the other hand, you had no such suspicion, and have now feigned it merely for the purpose of re­venging what your haughtiness has construed into an affront, I leave the public to determine what name you are worthy of.

But, you do not stop at suspicions. You seem to have foreseen that your readers would require something more than mere surmise, and you were determined to furnish it. When a man is once got into mischief, he does not stick at trifles. —‘This suspicion, say you, has been great­ly encreased by the manner in which Peter's Gazette has been conducted.’—Now, who, upon reading this, would not imagine, that my Gazette had discovered a departure from the principles which I had before professed; a spirit hostile to the government of this country, or [Page 87] at least unfriendly to it. Who would imagine that you, or any other man who wishes to pre­serve the least pretensions to candour, would have ventured to accuse another of enmity to the government upon a foundation slighter than this? Yet you can produce no such thing. Af­ter having turned and rummaged my poor gazette over and over again, pryed into every paragraph, and weighed each single expression, all you can collect to "increase" your suspicion, is, my ‘re­tailing abuse against la Fayette, and my pub­lishing whole columns, ‘filled with apologies for the old government of France!’ as if the sentiments of a man, respecting la Fayette and the French monarchy, formed a criterion where­by to estimate his attachment to the Constitution and Independence of the United States! Futile indeed must be the charge, that has no other support than such round-about kind of evidence as this.

I certainly might pass over with silent con­tempt, what, if strictly true, goes not an inch towards justifying your malignant insinuation; but, as you have been mean enough to take shelter under the popular, the ‘vulgar preju­dice,’ that prevails in favour of la Fayette and against monarchical governments, I shall take one step out of my way, in order to convince the public, that I shall never decline a combat with Noah Webster, though backed with the mis­placed partiality of millions.

What you are pleased to term, ‘retailing abuse against la Fayette,’ and, in another place, vilifying the defenders of American Indepen­dence;’ [Page 88] all this put together, is, the publish­ing of a speech of Mr. Burke, on the motion brought forward in the British Parliament, for the purpose of prevailing on the king to inter­cede for la Fayette's release. This speech was published in my Gazette, of the 7th March; and, so far from its being an abusive, vilifying ha­rangue, though it is one of those pieces of ora­tory, that will for ages be an ornament to the proceedings of the British Commons, it is not more remarkable for its eloquence than for its truth.

You, indeed, tell us, that la Fayette's being "in fault, is doubtful, or not admitted:"—and in this short sentence, you have given a more com­plete specimen of the equivoque than is to be found in Boileau's famous poem on the subject. In the first place, we know not whether you express the opinion of others, or your own: next, if you are understood as expressing your own opinion, you declare the question doubtful, you do not admit the fault, and yet you do not venture to declare your friend innocent: lastly, should some warm partizan, whether royalist or republican, call you to account for hesitating on the subject, still you have a shift left; for you do not say, or even hint, whether it be la Fayette's crimes against the king, or those against the assembly, that you doubt of.—It was in the wars, I presume, that you learnt this precaution, of always se­curing a safe retreat.

To one, who so carefully disguises his sentiments, it is next to impossible to make a satisfactory re­ply: however, supposing you to doubt of la [Page 89] Fayette's fault with respect to his sovereign, I would ask you, where you have lived for these ten years last past? To hear you start doubts on this subject, one would imagine you had dwelt in a dormitory or a hermitage; that you had been absorbed in heavenly meditation; that your vessel (as the puritans call it) had been a resevoir of god­liness, in place of being what, alas! it is, a mere channel for news.

To enter into a minute examination of la Fay­ett's conduct, during his short-lived career in the French revolution, would be giving an impor­tance to his character which it does not deserve. It is true that he always was an underworker, like many others; and, therefore, is not to be reckoned among the miscreant Mirabeaus, Con­dorcets, &c. whose puppet he was; but, he ne­vertheless comes in for a considerable share of that censure which is due to a combination of ambiti­ous men, determined to build their own fame and greatness on the ruins of a mighty empire, without remorse for the miseries it must produce. One fact, when the merits of la Fayette are to be tried, ought never to be forgotten: it was his revoluti­onary brain that conceived the French Rights of Man, of which no more need be said, than that they are the very text from which Tom Paine has ever since been preaching the duty of holy insur­rection.

I would willingly believe that gratitude for the services which la Fayette rendered America, has now called forth your compassion for his suf­ferings, and your resentment against my paper, or rather against me. I would willingly trace your [Page 90] asperity back to this amiable source; but your past conduct tells me that I should attempt it in vain. How come you to be grateful to la Fayette alone? Has no other friend to the American re­volution lain on the damp floor of a dungeon? Never did you, (with shame be it spoken, Web­ster) never did you utter a word of compassion for the unfortunate friendless Louis XVI. when this same la Fayette was leading him in triumph from prison to prison. Never did you talk of cruel treatment, when the Queen of France was dragged in slow procession to Paris, while the myrmidons of this same la Fayette carried the ghastly heads of her murdered guards before her. No; you rejoiced at all this; and yet, I believe, no one will have the impudence to pretend, that la Fayette's services to this country, were a millionth part so great as those of poor Louis and his consort.—Nay, you saw the head of this fallen prince roll from the scaf­fold; you saw his family cut off one by one; you saw his innocent child lingering in a dungeon, robbed of sleep, terrified four times an hour with orders to prepare for death, and at last you saw his bloated and livid corpse stretched in a dung­cart.—On all this you looked with a philosphic eye. Not a tear escaped you; not a groan, not a sigh, was heard from the tender-hearted Miner­va, who now tells us that "la Fayette's sufferings call for the "sympathy of all mankind."

No, Sir, nor did you ever feel any thing wor­thy the name of compassion for la Fayette himself, or you would have expressed your abhorrence of the cruel and savage measures adopted against him and his family by the pretended republicans of France. That was the time for your gratitude [Page 91] and friendship to have shown itself. You, who ‘once voluntarily bore arms to defend indepen­dence, and who now with determined zeal and firmness openly declares war against the man who dares vilify the defenders of it,’ among whom you count la Fayette; you, Sir, should have stood forth against the then popular Convention, who had fixed a price on the head of your friend; who had, by law, authorized the citizens to shoot him, or knock his brains out, like a dog; nay, had imposed it on them as a duty. Then was the time for the blue-eyed Maid to grasp her javelin, and shelter the injured hero beneath her ample shield. As she neglected to do this; as she shrank from the encounter with popular fury; as she tamely yielded to the vulgar prejudice that then prevailed in favour of every act of the mock legis­lators of France, however cruel and infamous, she will now receive but little applause, from men of sense, for her censure of the Emperor of Germany, whose title alone, she well knows, will, with the gross of her readers, be a sufficient apology for any departure from decency and truth.

No, Sir; it is too clear, that a desire to ingra­tiate yourself with the deceived part of the public, together with that of injuring me, led you to bring forward the stalking horse la Fayette, and not any friendship, gratitude, or compassion that you entertained for him. This your manner of proceeding incontestibly proves. First, you pre­tend to suspect my enmity to the independence of America; then you artfully produce my publi­tion of Mr. Burke's censure of la Fayette, as a proof of that enmity, leaving your readers to draw the natural conclusion, that I had "retailed [Page 92] abuse" against him, merely for his having fought in the cause of Independence.—Never did envy and revenge suggest a baser insinuation, or one, the falshood of which was more easy to detect.

If I bear malice against la Fayette, if I have published a censure on him, if I have "retailed abuse against him," as you are pleased to call it, on account of his having served here, during the revolutionary war; pray, does it not follow, that I must bear the same malice, and feel the same inclination to censure every one who aided the cause of Independence? If such be the motive from which I act, I certainly could look round among those who did more injury to the cause of Great Britain in one day, nay in one minute, than la Fayette did during the war, or could have done in his whole life time. I call on you, then, to say whether I have ever, directly or indi­rectly, discovered an inclination to defame any man, merely because he was instrumental in establishing the independence of this country. Have I ever attempted to asperse, have I ever hinted any thing to the dishonour of, Mr. Jay, Mr. Adams, or General Washington? These gentlemen, the most eminent actors on the great drama of the revolution, have all been attacked, slandered and abused, by those who are among the eulogists of la Fayette; and I leave the public to determine, who has shown the most diligence, zeal and courage, in defence of their characters, Peter Porcupine or Noah Webster.

In pursuance of the same view it was, that you chose to comment on my having published ‘an [Page 93] apology for the old government of France,’ which you assert to be ‘as corrupt a system of despotism as Europe ever witnessed.’

To call the old government of France, which all the civilians have reckoned among the limited monarchies; to call this government a despotism, argues a mind strongly tinctured with the prin­ciples of liberty and equality; but, to say that it was as corrupt a system of despotism as Europe ever saw, puts you upon a level with the slander­ous haranguers of the suburbs of St. Antoine and St. Marceaw. He that can call the monar­chical government of France the worst of despo­tisms, would make little scruple to imitate the vénérable Père Du Chène, in branding St. Louis, Henry IV. and Louis the XVI. with the name of tyrants.

You do, however, allow that there is one species of government still worse than that of the French monarchy; and here your consistency is well worth attention. First the old government is as bad a one as Europe ever saw; then the Ja­cobin government is worse. This is not amiss; but you do not let us off so. After having thus acknowledged that the Jacobin government is worse than the worst, you have the conscience to quarrel with me, to wage eternal war with me, for censuring one of the principal founders of this very Jacobin government! You had forgot, or you never knew, the history of the first years of the French revolution. You contemplate your friend in the dungeon of Almutz only; you do not look back, and behold him in the tribune of the Jacobin Club at Paris. la Fayette was one 30 [Page 94] of the very first, that took the name of Jacobin: he was a founder of the sect, and continued to be a member of it, till July, 1792. Even then he did not withdraw himself, but was expelled.

‘The old government, say you was not so bad as the Jacobin government, it is true; but there is a government different from both, which la Fayette sought, and which the people of this country will rejoice to see introduced; that is, a Free Government.—Now, sir, what do you mean by a government that la Fayette sought? To hear you, one would imagine, that he had been foiled in some precious project for the good of his country; that his councils had been rejected, and himself persecuted on account of his probity and wisdom; whereas the very reverse of all this was the case. His projects succeeded to the utmost of his wishes. The famous rights of man, of which he was the proposer, became a fundamental law, was sanctioned and sworn to by the whole nation. The Constitution, grounded on those rights, he saw completed, and he retired from the legislative scene well pleased with his work. In short, the government he sought, he obtained, and a most stu­pid, base and cruel government it was. A govern­ment that acknowledged the horrid act of insur­rection to be a sacred duty, and that, in its prac­tice, made a beginning in that career of sacrilege, plunder and assassination, which has been so unre­mittingly pursued by succeeding and more suc­cessful usurpers. And this is what you call a Free Government; one that the people of America will be glad to see established in France! If the people of America are silly or wicked enough to enter­tain any such wish, I sincerely hope it may not be [Page 95] accomplished. The government they have now in France, is certainly a most abominable despot­ism, but it is not so destructive either in principle or practice, as that which la Fayette sought and assisted to form.

What involves you in these inconsistencies and contradictions is evident enough: you were a long time a very great admirer of the French revolu­tion. I will not say that I could make you blush, but I am certain I could make your friends blush, by a quotation from your paper in approbation of Tom Paine's Rights of Man, the manuel of Jaco­binism. Exactly how far you went hand in hand with the revolutionists, I know not; nor do I be-believe that you yourself know. You are in the predicament of a great many others, who, when they are asked what they approved and what they did not approve, answer, that they went as far as la Fayette, but no farther; and God knows that was far enough.

You, and all those who thus pinned their poli­tical faith on the sleeve of this unfledged states­man, would still have been revolutionists in the fullest sense of the term, had not the usurpers been preparing to extend their fraternal grasp to this government and country. Till then you care­fully avoided saying a word against them: all their most atrocious deeds were smoothed over; their plundering decrees, their invitations to re­bellion, were all right, till they cast their looks this way: then your eyes were opened at once: like Bailly and la Fayette, you adored the holy right of insurrection, till it began to operate against yourselves.

[Page 96]From this digression, which your straggling from your subject invited, I return to examine more closely the accusation of having published "an apology for the old government of France." This apology is contained in certain extracts from Gifford's answer to lord Lauderdale's letters to the Peers of Scotland. The writer observes with great justness, that ‘one of the most successful modes of exciting sentiments favourable to the French Revolution, has been the imputation of every vice creative of disgust to the old govern­ment of France.’ He then notices the scan­dalous neglect of candour and truth, that has been displayed in the performance of this task: the unfair mode of arguing that has been adopted, and the exaggeration and calumny that has im­posed on the uninformed. The object of all this, it is evident, has been not only to justify the re­volutionists in destroying the monarchy, but to in­culcate a belief, that the people, notwithstanding their present misery, are still gainers by the despo­tism that has been raised on its ruins.

To expose the falacy of this reasoning, to rec­tify the misconceptions of the weak, and to de­tect the misrepresentations of the wicked, Mr. Gifford enters into a candid examination of the subject, during which he proves, and that most satisfactorily, that the acts of oppression imputed to the French government, were generally, not to say always, exaggerated; that in many instan­ces the charges were totally unfounded, and even ridiculous; that in short, to the happiness of France, no revolution was necessary; and of course, that this dreadful scourge is to be ascrib­ed to the ambition and treachery of the usurp­ing legislators.

[Page 97]With respect to the extracts, in themselves considered, the facts they contain are of indisput­able authenticity; as to the style, it is as far above the criticism of Noah Webster, as it is be­yond his imitation; and I defy you to cull out a single sentiment, from beginning to end, which, by the most violent contorsion, can be called hostile to true liberty. The elegant and convinc­ing writer is an Englishman, and consequently knows how to estimate the blessings of freedom full as well, if not better than you. He is a scho­lar, and, which is more as to the present point, the author of a history of France, which has re­ceived the applause of the whole literary world, and which is the fruit of a long and painful re­search, during many years of residence in that country: of course his knowledge (particularly of whatever relates to the monarchy of France) is not to be sunk to a competition with that of a man, the greatest extent of whose travels has been from Connecticut to New-York, and the utmost exertion of whose talents is to be sought for in the compilation of a school-book. Lastly, the author of the ‘Apology for the old govern­ment of France’ is an independent gentleman, whose sole object in writing must be the attain­ment of honest fame; and who is not therefore, like a retailer of wisdom and news, obliged to vary his politics to the more than female caprice of the multitude.

But, to do you justice, I really believe, you possess too much good sense not to be, in the pre­sent instance, charmed with what you pretend to disapprove of. Whether you will be pleased to hear your judgment thus complimented at the [Page 98] expence of your sincerity, I neither know nor care; but it certainly was me, and not the ex­tracts in my paper that you were angry with, and that it was your object to decry. You wish­ed to propagate a belief that I was an enemy to the Independence of America, and also to the form of the federal government. The former charge, which has already been refuted, was to be looked upon as proved by my publishing Mr. Burke's censure on la Fayette; and the latter by my publishing, from Gifford, an apology for the old government of France.

The same shameful abandonment of candour, the same jesuitical spirit of perversion, that you dis­cover in your comments on what respects la Fay­ette, is still more apparant in what you say of the apology.—You tell your readers, that you sus­pect my enmity to the form of government under which we live; and add, that this suspicion is encreased by my publishing an apology for the old government of France. Here you stop without saying that my intention is to introduce the lat­ter form of government here: however, lest you should be misunderstood, of which you seem to have been much afraid, you afterwards revive the subject, and, addressing yourself to me, ve­ry gravely and very maliciously observe, that my popularity, is not to be maintained by recom­mending the old government of France;’ there­by intimating that I had actually proposed the old government of France, which you call the worst of despotisms, as a substitute for the Fe­deral government of the United States! What a wretched attempt at imposition. This may well be termed, in your own flag language, a [Page 99] a low pitiful business.’—You best know what stock of stupidity the readers of the Minerva are blessed with, but this I am certain of; that the clumsiest and most impudent vagabond Jugler never ventured to play off so barefaced a decepti­on to the gaping clowns at a country fair.—And were you, could you be, so completely infatuated as to hope that any man in his senses, any thing in human shape, would become the dupe of your spiteful insinuation? The thing is beyond the compass of belief: to attempt to disprove it would be useless: to give it a formal denial, or even to call it a lie, would be doing it too much honour.

After having shown the absurdity, the malice, of your pretended suspicions with respect to my political principles, you will permit me to ask you once more, why those suspicions were never awa­kened 'till lately?—Many of the men who fought for American Independence have been treated, in my writings, with much less mercy than Mr. Burke's speech treats la Fayette. Nay, I have never spared la Fayette himself, when I have had occasion to speak of him (and that has been very often) either individually or as a member of the Constitution making Assembly. And, as to the old government of France, I have often passed higher commendations on it, than Mr. Gifford does in the extracts you complain of. To be sure I never recommended it to the people of America, as you sillily insinuate I have done in publishing those extracts; but I have ventured ‘to predict, that, sooner or later, the French will return to that form of government under which they were happy, and under which alone they can [Page 100] ever be so again;’ and this I did in my Life and Adventures.—How came these things to e­scape your awful censure so long? How came you never before to think it your duty to repre­sent them as an indication of my enmity to the government and Independence of your country? You let me go on uninterrupted, pamphlet after pamphlet, for three whole years; yea, and even applauded my efforts all the time; and now, at last, you find me to be a dangerous fellow, and burst out upon me all at once, like a thunder from a summer cloud.

In vain would you make me believe, that any real suspicion, that any apprehension of my insin­cerity, has caused this change in your conduct towards me. It is possible, and barely possible, that your vanity has been unable to support the charge of vulgar prejudice, and has stimulated you to this unmanly mode of revenge. But, are you sure, Webster, that envy, cursed envy, has had nothing to do in the "low pitiful business?" Are you sure, that the 150 Porcupine's Gazettes, daily sent to your city, together with those which may probably have supplanted your's round your neighbourhood, thro' New England, and the Jer­seys: consult your heart and tell me, if you are sure, that it is not the spread of these innocent pa­pers, and not any thing which they contain, that has roused your lethargic patriotism.

It is ever painful to be obliged to think ill, and much more so to speak ill, of those that we have been accustomed to esteem, and I should hardly bring myself to impute your enmity to so dishono­rable a cause, were I not well assured that the im­putation is just.

[Page 101]Unfortunately for your reputation, it so hap­pens, that you possess a more satisfactory proof of my attachment to the government, than perhaps, any other man in the country does. The letter which I wrote you, when I requested you to pub­lish the proposals for my Gazette (a letter written in the fullest confidence) must have convinced any man, of a mind not indued with the quality of turning its nutriment to poison, that the American government had not a more sincere, more zealous, or more devoted friend than I. This letter, what­ever reluctance I might on any other occasion feel to suffer its appearance in print, I now call on you to publish in your paper; and, if you have one single grain of candour or justice left, you will not hesitate to comply with my request.

Here I should close, but there are two or three passages more in your Address, which so strongly invite attention, that your vanity might, perhaps, take the alarm again, were they to pass totally un­noticed; and, after having tasted so severely of the effects of your wrath, it is not to be wondered at, if I feel no inclination to brave it a second time.

You are so good as to inform me, ‘that you once voluntarily bore arms to defend Indepen­dence; that, in pursuance of the same princi­ples, you first proposed publickly the plan of a National Constitution; that, persevering in the same principles, you assailed the monster faction, the moment it appeared in the insidious form of popular clubs; and that, from that mo­ment to this present writing, you have never ceased to expose the artifices of the French agents to lay this country at the feet of France.31

[Page 102]How all this got into a letter written about an English flag, I can't for my soul conceive. How­ever, 'tis news, and as such I am, in common with the rest of the trade, obliged to you for it.

I have read the history of the American war over and over again, but I do not recollect ever having seen the name of Noah Webster in it. That you were not very famous is therefore certain, and it is more than probable that you were looked up­on as mere food for powder, a situation that, what­ever might be the cause you were made use of in, is nothing at all to boast of.

Your being the first who publickly proposed a National Constitution,’ is a curious anecdote enough; and I cannot say but I am glad it is come to light, as it will tend to quash, or at least to moderate, the exhorbitant pretensions of that unconscionable dog Tom Paine, who puts in an absolute claim to the whole credit of the invention. Tom does, indeed, confess, that he was anticipated by one writer on the subject, who insisted, that thirteen staves, without a hoop, would never make a barrel; and if you can make it out, as I have not the least doubt you can, that you were the real le­gitimate author of this shrewd and learned obser­vation, Tom must give way to you, or, at least, you must be permitted to come in with him for a share of the honour.

Thus you see I do not dispute your pretensions to military or constitution making fame, but as to your boldness in ‘assailing the monster FAC­TION; as to your perseverance and success in exposing the artifices of the French;’ these I [Page 103] do dispute, and not only dispute, but positively deny. You have, indeed, as far as you have found it prudent to go, latterly espoused the cause of or­der, and consequently that of the government; but, to do this with effect, you should have begun long enough before you did, and should have as­sumed a tone that never has been heard from the Minerva. At first you were a warm partizan of insurrection; you were among the abusers, the calumniators, of Burke, and the eulogists of Paine. At this epocha you were bold, because you acted with the crowd. When Genet's insolence awa­kened the suspicions of the people here, then you began to veer, to shuffle and to trim; and, from that time to the present moment you have been playing that double handed game, which, howe­ver profitable you may contrive to make it, en­titles you to the character of a Vicar of Bray. If my worthy patron, Bradford, is to be believed, your old friend, and partner in the language trade, Doctor Franklin, was six weeks in Congress, be­fore any one could divine whether he was a Whig or Tory; and I have frequently been at a loss to guess, such a compound is your politics, whether I ought to class you among the Federalists or De­mocrats. If these words have any meaning, as applied to you, you are a Democrat in principle, and a Federalist for convenience.

Not content with a malignant misrepresenta­tion of my motives and the meaning of my words, you must insult me with your advice. You tell me that I do not proceed in the right way to pre­serve my popularity, and caution me against pub­lishing what is "disrespectful to the opinions of Ame­ricans;" and thus you discover a servility of mind, [Page 104] that would be disgraceful even in a mendicant. When you form a jugment of me, Master Webster, and of what is likely to produce a change in my conduct, be so good as not to consult your own heart, for it will assuredly deceive you. Populari­ty may be your God, as indeed, it evidently is: so is it not mine. Small is the sacrifice that I would make at its shrine. A volume of the best of praise is not, with me, worth its weight in bread and cheese; and as to the stupid plaudits of a partial and prejudiced throng, I should think that they covered me with infamy instead of honour.

According to your notions of the liberty of the press, a man must not publish a word against la Fayette, though it be extracted from some other writer; because, forsooth, ‘it is extremely disre­spectful to the opinions of Americans!’ In other words, nothing must appear in a news-paper that does not perfectly chime in with the prevalent prejudice, however preposterous that prejudice may be, or however dangerous its tendency; and thus the press, in place of a censor, is to be a pa­risite, to the public; instead of being a terror to evil doers, it is to be the pander of folly and of vice.

That this has, for a long time, been the cha­racter of the American Press, as far as relates to news-papers, is but too true. Every one seems to have been upon the watch to find out the hu­mour of the public, and to accommodate his sentiments and even his news accordingly: hence it is that we have seen hundreds of eulogiums upon Robespierre and Marat, and have been seriously told that the French gained a victory [Page 105] over Lord Howe on the 1st of June, 1794. The motto of the Philadelphia Gazette, "THE PUBLIC WILL OUR GUIDE," would suit the whole of you, with a very few exceptions. The people are not told what is their interest, but what it is their wish, or rather the wish of the multitude, to hear. If any one dares to speak what he thinks; to publish what he conceives to be useful, if it happens to be contrary to the vulgar prejudice, he is told that he is disrespectful to the opinions of Americans.

According to the cant of the day, the people of a state, not governed by a monarch, is called the sovereign. For my part, I never hear talk of a sovereign people, of a society every individual of which is liable to the grasp of a catch-pole; I never do or can hear talk of such a sovereign without laughing. But, as such you look upon the people. Well then, to have an idea of your own servility, tell me what you would say of a news-printer in England, who should censure a­nother for publishing sentiments extremely disre­spectful to the opinions of the king? Would you not call him a slave, a poor rampant spaniel-like syco­phant? And, where is the difference, I would be glad to know, between crawling to a sovereign with one head and a sovereign with many?—No, Webster, your insinuations that I treat the people of America, or rather their opinions, with disre­spect, will never deter me from following the bent of my own inclination. In my publications, I hope, I shall always be guided by truth: how few I may please, or how many I may displease, is to me a matter of very little moment. I enter­tain, I trust, a due respect for the real people of [Page 106] this country, and a grateful sense of the liberal encouragement I have received from them; but neither this respect nor this gratitude will ever lead me so far as to flatter, what I look upon as a foible or a prejudice. I have no pretensions to patriotism, and as to disinterestedness, it is nonsense to talk of it; but, though gain be one principle object of my labours, I scorn to pursue it by the base means of trimming and truckling. No, Webster, the public will is not my guide: when my readers become so unreasonable as to require a suppression of every sentiment that does not ac­cord with their own, I will quit the trade of a news-monger, hire a garret, write Carmagnole bal­lads for the diversion of the sovereign people, and elegies on the departed liberty of the press.

You conclude by declaring your resolution to annoy me ‘by all those decent and legal means that distinguish the gentleman and the citizen. This I highly approve of, and on my part, I so­lemnly promise to oppose your annoyance by all those decent and legal means that distinguish the Porcupine; that is by pricking you every where and in every way that I can come at you.—After this candid declaration, you will undoubtedly look upon me as

Your most humble and obedient servant, P. P.
[Page 107]


SINCE I took up the calling that I now follow, I have received about forty threatening letters; some talk of fisticuff, others of kicks, but far the greater part menace me with out-right murder. Several friends (whom by the bye I sincerely thank) have called to caution me against the lurking cut-throats; and it seems to be the persuasion of every one, that my brains are to be knocked out the first time I ven­ture from home in the dark.

Under these terrific circumstances, it is impossible that Death should not stare me in the face: I have therefore got myself into as good a state of preparati­on as my sinful profession will, I am afraid, admit of; and as to my worldly affairs, I have settled them in the following WILL, which I publish, in order that my dear friends, the Legatees, may, if they think themselves injured or neglected, have an opportunity of complaining before it be too late.

[Page 108]IN the name of Fun, Amen. I PETER POR­CUPINE, Pamphleteer and News-Monger, being (as yet) sound both in body and in mind, do, this fifteenth day of April, in the Year of our LORD, one thousand seven hundred and ninety-seven, make, declare, and publish, this my LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT, in manner, form, and substance following; to wit:

IN PRIMIS, I LEAVE my body to Doctor Michael Lieb, a member of the Legislature of Pennsylvania, to be by him dissected (if he knows how to do it) in presence of the Rump of the Democratic Society, In it they will find a heart that held them in ab­horrence, that never palpitated at their threats, and that, to its last beat, bade them defiance. But my chief motive for making this bequest it, that my spirit may look down with contempt on their cannibal-like triumph over a breathless corps.

Item, As I make no doubt that the above said Doctor Lieb (and some other Doctors that I could menti­on) would like very well to skin me, I request that they, or one of them, may do it, and that [Page 109] the said Lieb's father may tan my skin; after which I desire my Executors to have seven copies of my Works complete, bound in it, one copy to be presented to the five Sultans of France, one to each of their Divans, one to the Governor of Pennsylvania, to citizens Maddison, Giles, and Gallatine one each, and the remaining one to the Democratic Society of Philadelphia, to be care­fully preserved among their archieves.

Item, To the Mayor, Aldermen and Councils of the City of Philadelphia, I bequeath all the sturdy young hucksters, who infest the market, and who to maintain their bastards, tax the honest inhabi­tants many thousand pounds annually. I request them to take them into their worshipful keeping; to chasten their bodies for the good of their souls; and moreover, to keep a sharp look-out after their gallants: and remind the latter of the old proverb: Touch pot, touch penny.

Item, To T— J—son, Philosopher, I leave a curious Norway Spider, with a hundred legs and nine pair of eyes; likewise the first black cut-throat general he can catch hold of, to be flead alive, in order to determine with more certainty the real cause of the dark colour of his skin: and should the said T— J—son survive Ban­neker the Almanack-Maker; I request he will get the brains of said Philomath carefully dissected, to satisfy the world in what respects they differ from those of a white man.

Item, To the Philosophical Society of Philadelphia, I will and bequeath a correct copy of Thornton's plan for abolishing the use of the English language and for introducing in its stead a republican one, the representative characters of which bear a [Page 110] strong resemblance to pot-hooks and hangers; and for the discovery of which plan, the said society did, in the year 1793, grant to the said lan­guage maker 500 dollars premium.—It is my earnest desire, that the copy of this valuable performance, which I hereby present, may be shown to all the travelling literati, as a proof of the ingenuity of the author and of the wisdom of the society.

Item, To Doctor Benjamin Rush, I will and bequeath a copy of the Censor for January, 1797; but, upon the express condition, that he does not is anywise or guise, either at the time of my death, or Six months after, pretend to speak, write or publish an eulogium on me, my calling or character, either literary, military, civil, or political.

Item, To my dear fellow labourer Noah Webster, gen|"tleman-citizen," Esq and News-man, I will and bequeath a prognosticating barometer of curious construction and great utility, by which, at a single glance, the said Noah will be able to discern the exact state that the public mind will be in the ensu­ing year, and will thereby be enabled to trim by degrees and not expose himself to detection, as he now does by his sudden lee-shore tacks. I likewise bequeath to the said "gentleman citi­zen," six Spanish milled dollars, to be expended on a new plate of his portrait at the head of his spelling-book, that which graces it at present being so ugly that it scares the children from their lessons; but this legacy is to be paid him only upon condition that he leave out the title of 'Squire, at the bottom of said picture, which is ex­tremely odious in an American school-book, and must inevitably tend to corrupt the political prin­ciples [Page 111] of the republican babies that behold it. And I do most earnestly desire, exhort and conjure the said 'Squire-news-man, to change the tittle of his paper, The Minerva, for that of The Political Centaur.

Item, To F. A. Mughlenburg, Esq Speaker of a late house of Representatives of the United States, I leave a most superbly finished statue of Janus.

Item, To Tom the Tinker, I leave a liberty cap, a tri-colored cockade, a wheel-barrow full of oysters, and a hogshead of grog: I also leave him three blank checks on the Bank of Pennsylvania, leav­ing to him the task of filling them up; requesting him, however, to be rather more merciful than he has shown himself heretofore.

Item, To the Governor of Pennsylvania, and to the late President and Cashier of the Bank of the said State, as to joint legatees, I will and bequeath that good old proverb: Honesty is the best policy. And this legacy I have chosen for these worthy gentlemen, as the only thing about which I am sure they will never disagree.

Item, To T— Coxe, of Philadelphia, citizen, I will and bequeath a crown of hemlock, as a re­compence for his attempt to throw an odium on the administration of General Washington; and I most positively enjoin on my executors, to see that the said crown be shaped exactly like that which this spindle-shanked legatee wore before Gen. Howe, when he made his triumphal entry into Philadelphia.

Item, To Thomas Lord Bradford (otherwise called Goosy Tom), Bookseller, Printer, News-man, [Page 112] and member of the Philosophical Society of Philadelphia, I will and bequeath a copy of the Peerage of Great Britain, in order that the said Lord Thomas may the more exactly ascer­tain what probability there is of his succeeding to the seat, which his noble relation now fills in the House of Lords.

Item, To all and singular the authors in the United States, whether they write verse or prose, I will and bequeath a copy of my Life and adventures; and I advise the said authors to study with particular care the 40th and 41st pages thereof; more especially and above all things, I exhort and conjure them never to publish it together, though the bookseller should be a saint.

Item, To Edmund Randolph, Esq late Secretary of State, to Mr. J. A. Dallas, Secretary of the State of Pennsylvania, and to his Excellency Tho­mas Mifflin, Governor of the said unfortunate State, I will and bequeath, to each of them, a copy of the sixteenth paragraph of Fauchet's intercepted letter.

Item, To Citizen John Swanwick, member of Con­gress, by the will and consent of the sovereign people, I leave bills of Exchange on London to an enormous amount; they are all protested, in­deed, but if properly managed, may be turned to good account. I likewise bequeath to the said John a small treatise by an Italian author, where­in the secret of pleasing the ladies is developed, and reduced to a mere mechanical operation, with­out the least dependance on the precarious aid of the passions. Hoping that these instances of my liberality will produce, in the mind of the little [Page 113] legislator, effects quite different from those pro­duced therein by the king of Great Britain's pen­sion to his parents.

Item, To the editor of the Boston Chronicle, the New York Argus, and the Philadelphia Merch­ants' Advertiser, I will and bequeath one ounce of modesty and love of truth, to be equally divid­ed between them. I should have been more libe­ral in this bequest, were I not well assured, that one ounce is more than they will ever make use of.

Item, To Franklin Bache, editor of the Aurora of Philadelphia, I will and bequeath a small bundle of French assignats, which I brought with me from the country of equality. If these should be too light in value for his pressing exigencies, I desire my executors, or any one of them, to bestow on him a second part to what he has lately received in Southwark; and as a further proof of my good will and affection, I request him to accept of a gag and a brand new pair of fetters, which if he should refuse, I will and bequeath him in lieu thereof—my malediction.

Item, To my beloved countrymen, the people of Old England, I will and bequeath a copy of Doctor Priestley's Charity Sermon for the benefit of poor Emigrants; and to the said preaching philosopher himself, I bequeath a heart full of disappointment, grief and despair.

Item, To the good people in France, who remain attached to their sovereign, particularly to those among whom I was hospitably received, I be­queath each a good strong dagger; hoping most sincerely that they may yet find courage enough [Page 114] to carry them to the hearts of their abominable tyrants.

Item, To citizen M—oe, I will and bequeath my chamber looking-glass. It is a plain but exceed­ing true mirror: in it he will see the exact like­ness of a traitor, who has bartered the honour and interest of his country to a perfidious and savage enemy.

Item, To the republican Britons, who have fled from the hands of justice in their own country, and who are a scandal, a nuisance and a disgrace to this, I bequeath hunger and nakedness, scorn and reproach; and I do hereby positively enjoin on my executors to contribute five hundred dol­lars towards the erection of gallowses and gibbets, for the accommodation of the said imported pa­triots, when the legislators of this unhappy state shall have the wisdom to countenance such useful establishments.

Item, My friend J. T. Callender, the run-away from Scotland, is of course a partaker in the last men­tioned legacy; but as a particular mark of my attention, I will and bequeath him twenty feet of pine plank, which I request my executors to see made into a pillory, to be kept for his par­ticular use, till a gibbet can be prepared.

Item, To Tom Paine, the author of Common Sense, Rights of Man, Age of Reason, and a letter to General Washington, I bequeath a strong hempen collar, as the only legacy I can think of that is worthy of him, as well as best adapted to render his death in some measure as infamous as his life: and I do hereby direct and order my Executors to send it to him by the first safe conveyance, [Page 115] with my compliments, and request that he would make use of it without delay, that the national razor may not be disgraced by the head of such a monster.

Item, To the gaunt outlandish orator, vulgarly called the Political Sinner, who in the just order of things follows next after the last mentioned le­gatee, I bequeath the honour of partaking in his catastrophe; that in their deaths, as well as in their lives, all the world may exclaim; ‘See how rogues hang together!’

Item, To all and singular the good people of these States, I leave peace, union, abundance, hap­piness, untarnished honour, and an unconquerable everlasting hatred to the French Revolutionists and their destructive abominable principles.

Item, To each of my Subscribers I leave a quill, ho­ping that in their hands it may become a sword against every thing that is hostile to the govern­ment and independence of their country.

Lastly,To my three brothers, Paul, Simon and Dick, I leave my whole estate, as well real as personal (first paying the foregoing legacies) to be equal­ly divided between them share and share alike. And I do hereby make and constitute my said three brothers the Executors of this my LAST WILL; to see the same performed, according to its true intent and meaning, as far as in their power lies.

Witness Present,
  • Philo Fun,
  • Jack Jockus.


  • ADVERTISEMENT, singular one from a French paper Page. 27
  • —Extraordinary, by the Capt. of the Asia Page. 63
  • —for sale of ships, Cut-throat and Plunderer Page. 95
  • —sale of Notes, Engagements, &c. with chance of collateral security on new discoveries, by Touch the half-ready, & Co. Page. 51
  • Americans, not distinguished by works of imagination Page. 38
  • —remarks on that observation ibid
  • Anecdote of a Miser Page. 50
  • —a shepherd and the Marquis of Spinola ibid
  • —of a young woman Page. 90
  • Antigallican Page. 94
  • British Commerce and Finances Page. 2
  • —continued in the succeeding Numbers
  • —Government, answer of—to the Spanish de­claration of war Page. 58
  • [Page 118]Baptism, new, of Bache's paper Page. 10
  • Bache's observations on the late President's retreat from Government, with P. Porcupine's remarks on the same Page. 10
  • —country correspondents communications on the same Page. 27
  • —Paper, progress of—from Truth, Decency, and Order Page. 47
  • Bastile, account of taking the—with note on the same Page. 14
  • Bankrupt Law, hint to Legislature of Pennsylvania on Page. 42
  • Crisis, Alliance with Great Britain or France compared Page. 50
  • Cherin's address to the army returned from Ireland, translated into plain English Page. 74
  • Contrast between the conduct of the American and French governments, by Mr. Wilcocks Page. 87
  • Cooper, Mr. Criticism on his performance Page. 90
  • Dream Page. 50
  • Elephant, curious occurrence at the exhibition of one Page. 43
  • French piracies Page. 3
  • —continued in the succeeding Numbers
  • —fleet, Capt. Bembridges account of the number of Page. 19
  • —fraternity, evidences of ibid
  • —Amity, a little of Page. 51
  • —Flag, taken down from the Tontine Coffee-House, New-York Page. 47
  • —paragraphs relative to, and remarks on—taken from New-York papers of 1795 ibid
  • —Removal of, displeases King Mob Page. 55
  • [Page 119]French Agents in the West-Indies—infamous arret of Page. 38
  • Observations on the same ibid
  • —Emigrants, remarks on a further subscription proposed for them, and how they recompence us Page. 54
  • —Honesty and Friendship Page. 55
  • —Observations on their conduct towards this country Page. 83
  • France, Gifford's apology for former government of Page. 14
  • continued in the succeeding numbers
  • —immoral philosophy of Page. 59
  • —state of, in February, 1794 Page. 86
  • Flags, American and English printed together, with remarks thereon Page. 43
  • Fennell, query respecting the animal which snarls at Page. 15
  • —Remark on the query Page. 19
  • Foreign news, general sketches of, up to 20th De­cember Page. 42
  • Great-Britain, King of—his Manifesto Page. 51
  • —the deranged state of that unhappy Country Page. 55
  • Gold—Effects of—a Poem Page. 90
  • House of Representatives of the United States—Reso­lution of, on the account of E. Randolph, late Se­cretary of State Page. 11
  • Hoche's Proclamation to his Raggamuffins Page. 66
  • Harper, Robert G. his letter to Bache on the publica­tion of his confidential letter on the character of Mr. Jefferson Page. 74
  • Ireland—French attempt to invade Page. 63, 66
  • —Loyalty and active spirit display'd on that occasion—by the troops and people of ibid
  • [Page 120]Ireland, Account of the preparations made by the French for the expedition against Page. 91
  • —Lord Chancellor of—his account of the state of the country Page. 70
  • Kehl—surrender of Page. 66
  • La Fayette—Burke's speech in the British House of Commons on imprisonment of Page. 10, 11
  • Louceum—Questions proposed for the Page. 19
  • Liberty Cap—Lines at Newport on seeing the sign of Page. 42
  • Liberty—French—a mere counterfeit Page. 46
  • Lock jaw—cured by STROKING!!! Page. 59
  • Merchants' Daily Advertiser's account of proposed change of British administration, with P. Porcupine's remarks on the same Page. 11
  • Magpie and Robin red breast, a Tale, by Peter Pin­dar Page. 34
  • Massacre of the Danes in England Page. 54
  • —observations on the same ibid
  • Munroe, Mr. his recall from France Page. 71
  • —Answer to—from Barras, President of the French Directory, on his presenting his let­ter of recall ibid
  • —Observations on Barras's answer Page. 71, 75
  • —His letter to the French Directory previ­ous to his departure Page. 79
  • —remarks on the same Page. 83, 90, 94
  • Malmsbury—Lord—his account of the negotia­tions for Peace, between the government of Great-Britain and French Directory Page. 78
  • Continued in the succeeding Numbers
  • [Page 121]Northumberland—people of, vindicated from a charge of being enemies to the late administration Page. 38
  • Naval-force—of Great-Britain, distribution of Page. 78
  • News-papers, impartial ones—Remarks on Page. 83
  • Porcupine's address to the public Page. 1
  • —Letter to Franklin Bache Page. 3
  • —To the Public on the publication of a pam­phlet, the author of which assumed his name
  • —Letter to Tredwell Jackson, acting hang­man to the Democratic Society of New-York Page. 31
  • President of the United States—Speech on his in­auguration Page. 6, 7
  • —Vice, of the United States—Speech on his inauguration Page. 6
  • Paine Tom—Anecdote of Page. 10
  • Patriotism—Detected and Mr. Anonymous discovered, Page. 46
  • Pennsylvania, Governor of, his communication to the State Legislature on the offer of a House to the President of the United States Page. 23
  • Remarks on the same ibid
  • Perkins, Dr.—Observations on his Metallic points Page. 35
  • Priestly, Dr.—His works, a recommendation to buy and burn them and all Tom Paine's together, in­stead of subscribing for the publication of more Page. 39
  • Proclamation of Gordon Forbes, at St. Domingo Page. 43
  • —of the President of the United States Page. 79
  • Peace—British proposals to French Directory for Page. 50
  • —Negotiation with the same ibid
  • —Official papers respecting that negotiation Page. 66
  • [Page 122]Pinckney, Mr.—Refusal of French Directory to re­ceive him Page. 67
  • Query, interesting Page. 10
  • Republican Fraternity Page. 43, 75
  • Russia,—New Emperor of—Paul I. Page. 50, 51
  • his character, &c. Page. 71
  • Report of the Secretary of State, on French captures of American vessels, &c. &c. Page. 54
  • continued in the succeeding Numbers
  • Spies, foreign and sower of sedition, should not be elected to posts or offices of importance Page. 39
  • Spy, Western—of our allies Page. 91
  • Sans-culotte Country Page. 55
  • Sans-culotte Armada Page. 66
  • Spanish vessels taken Page. 59
  • Smith, General, capture and releasement of his ship by the French Page. 90
  • Remarks on the same ibid
  • Sheridan's patriotism Page. 46
  • Trinidad taken by the British Page. 71
  • —Proclamation of the Commander Page. 94
  • Tree of Liberty—a fragment Page. 74
  • United States—Congress of—Randolph and Gallatine, remarks on
  • [Page 123]Versatility—different characters given of European Monarchs Page. 91
  • WASHINGTON, General—Feast given to, by the Mer­chants of Philadelphia Page. 7
  • —Account of Entertainments and rejoicings at Salem, Beverly, and Stockbridge, on his Birth­day Page. 15
  • —Tribute of applause paid to him—from a Lon­don Sans-Culotte Gazette Page. 19
  • —'s Reception at Wilmington, Del. Page. 27
  • —Letter of, concerning the forgery of Letters in his name ibid
  • —Charge of assassination by Page. 30
  • —Observations on, and refutation of same Page. 30, 35
  • concluded Page. 39
  • —Reception at Baltimore Page. 47
  • —Address to, from the Mayor and Corporation of that City, with his answer ibid
  • Willcocks William, Address to the people of the United Sates respecting the French Minister Adet Page. 30
  • —Contrast between the conduct of the Ameri­can and French Governments Page. 87

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