unless the President would give him two hundred and fifty thousand
dollars for a new treaty, and an annual subsidy of twenty thousand, he
would declare war against the United States.

These two years of petty humiliations had exasperated Eaton's bold and
fiery temper. He found some relief in horse-whipping Monsieur Famin, who
had been unceasing in his quiet annoyances, and in writing to the
Government at home despatches of a most undiplomatic warmth and
earnestness. From the first, he had advised the use of force. "If you
would have a free commerce in those seas, you must defend it. It is
useless to buy a peace. The more you give, the more the Turks will ask
for. Tribute is considered an evidence of your weakness; and contempt
stimulates cupidity. _Qui se fait brebis, le loup le mange_. What are
you afraid of? The naval strength of the Regencies amounts to nothing.
If, instead of sending a sloop with presents to Tunis, you will consign
to me a transport with a thousand trusty marines, well officered, under
convoy of a forty-four-gun frigate, I pledge myself to surprise Porto
Farina and destroy the Bey's arsenal. As to Tripoli, two frigates and
four gun-boats would bring the Pacha to terms. But if you yield to his
new demands, you must make provision to pay Tunis double the amount, and
Algiers in proportion. Then, consider how shameful is your position, if
you submit. 'Tributary to the pitiful sand-bank of Tripoli?' says the
world; and the answer is affirmative, without a blush. Habit reconciles
mankind to everything, even humiliation, and custom veils disgrace. But
what would the world say, if Rhode Island should arm two old
merchantmen, put an Irish renegade into one and a Methodist preacher in
another, and send them to demand a tribute of the Grand Seignior? The
idea is ridiculous; but it is exactly as consistent as that Tripoli
should say to the American nation,--'Give me tribute, or tremble under
the chastisement of my navy!'"