ucated in the lap of despotism, had given repeated
proofs that he was not the enemy of liberty, brought precipitately
and ignominiously to the block without any substantial proof of
guilt, as yet disclosed--without even an authentic exhibition of
motives, in decent regard to the opinions of mankind; when I find
the doctrine of atheism openly advanced in the convention, and
heard with loud applause; when I see the sword of fanaticism
extended to force a political creed upon citizens who were invited
to submit to the arms of France as the harbingers of liberty; when
I behold the hand of rapacity outstretched to prostrate and ravish
the monuments of religious worship, erected by those citizens and
their ancestors; when I perceive passion, tumult, and violence
usurping those seats, where reason and cool deliberation ought to
preside, I acknowledge that I am glad to believe there is no real
resemblance between what was the cause of America and what is the
cause of France; that the difference is no less great than that
between liberty and licentiousness. I regret whatever has a
tendency to confound them, and I feel anxious, as an American,
that the ebullitions of inconsiderate men among us may not tend to
involve our reputation in the issue.[1]

[Footnote 1: _Hamilton's Works_, 566.]

Citizen Genet continued his campaign unabashed. He attempted to force
the United States to give arms and munitions to the French. Receiving
cool answers to his demands, he lost patience, and intended to appeal
to the American People, over the head of the Government. He sent his
communication for the two Houses of Congress, in care of the Secretary
of State, to be delivered. But Washington, whose patience had seemed
inexhaustible, believed that the time had come to act boldly. By his
instruction Jefferson returned the communication to Genet with a note
in which he curtly reminded the obstreperous Frenchman of a diplomat's
proper behavior. As the American Government had already requested the
French to recall Genet, his amazing inflation collapsed like a pricked
bladder. He was too wary, however, to return to France which he had
served so devotedly. He preferred to remain in this country, to become
an American citizen, and to marry the daughter of Governor Clinton of
New York. Perhaps he had time for leisure, during the anticlimax of
his career, to recognize that President