"Dictas ob hoc lenire tigres, rabidosque
leones,"

would soften piratical Turks. Mr. Madison's despatch to O'Brien on the
subject is written in this spirit. "The sending to Constantinople the
national ship-of-war, the George Washington, by force, under the
Algerine flag, and for such a purpose, has deeply affected the
sensibility, not only of the President, but of the people of the United
States. Whatever temporary effects it may have had favorable to our
interest, the indignity is of so serious a nature, _that it is not
impossible that it may be deemed necessary, on a fit occasion, to revive
the question._ Viewing it in this light, the President wishes that
nothing may be said or done by you that may unnecessarily preclude the
competent authority from animadverting on that transaction in any way
that a vindication of the national honor may be thought to prescribe."

Times have changed since then, and our national spirit with them. The
Secretary's Quaker-like protest offers a ludicrous contrast to the
wolf-to-lamb swagger of our modern diplomacy. What faithful Democrat of
1801 would have believed that the day would come of the Kostza affair,
of the African right-of-search quarrel, the Greytown bombardment, and
the seizure of Miramon's steamers?

It is clear that our President and people were in no danger of being led
into acts of undue violence by "deeply affected sensibility" or the
"vindication of the national honor," when a violent blow aimed by the
Pacha of Tripoli at their Mediterranean trade roused them to a show of
self-defence. Early in May he declared war against the United States,
although Consul Cathcart offered him ten thousand dollars to leave the
American flag-staff up for a short time longer. Even then, if Mr.