Besides which, you had (though
with the assistance of this country) secured a powerful name by the
last war. You were known and dreaded abroad; and it would have been
wise in you to have suffered the world to have slept undisturbed under
that idea. It was to you a force existing without expense. It produced
to you all the advantages of real power; and you were stronger through
the universality of that charm, than any future fleets and armies
may probably make you. Your greatness was so secured and interwoven
with your silence that you ought never to have awakened mankind, and
had nothing to do but to be quiet. Had you been true politicians you
would have seen all this, and continued to draw from the magic of a
name, the force and authority of a nation.
Unwise as you were in breaking the charm, you were still more unwise
in the manner of doing it. Samson only told the secret, but you have
performed the operation; you have shaven your own head, and wantonly
thrown away the locks. America was the hair from which the charm was
drawn that infatuated the world. You ought to have quarrelled with
no power; but with her upon no account. You had nothing to fear from
any condescension you might make. You might have humored her, even
if there had been no justice in her claims, without any risk to your
reputation; for Europe, fascinated by your fame, would have ascribed
it to your benevolence, and America, intoxicated by the grant, would
have slumbered in her fetters.
But this method of studying the progress of the passions, in order
to ascertain the probable conduct of mankind, is a philosophy in
politics which those who preside at St.
Pages:
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156