The great French Revolution had taken place; and Paul Jones occupied the position, unusual for him, of a passive spectator of great events. Acquainted with men of all parties, with Bertrand Barere, Carnot, Robespierre, and Danton, as well as with the more conservative men with whom his own past had led him to sympathize,--Lafayette, Mirabeau, and Malesherbes,--Jones's last days were not lacking in picturesque opportunity for observation. He felt great sympathy for the king, with whom he had been acquainted, and who had bestowed upon him the title of chevalier and the gold sword. For Mirabeau, as for other really great men Jones knew,--Franklin, Washington, and Suwarrow,--he had extreme admiration, and on the occasion of the famous Frenchman's death wrote: "I have never seen or read of a man capable of such mastery over the passions and the follies of such a mob. There is no one to take the place of Mirabeau." Of the mob Jones wrote with aristocratic hatred: "There have been many moments when my heart turned to stone towards those who call themselves 'the people' in France. More than once have I harbored the wish that I might be intrusted by Lafayette with the command of the Palace, with _carte blanche_ to defend the constitution; and that I might have once more with me, if only for one day, my old crews of the Ranger, the Richard, and the Alliance! I surely would have made the thirty cannon of the courtyard teach to that mad rabble the lesson that grapeshot has its uses in struggles for the rights of man!" Jones always had much to say on the organization of navies and the principles of naval warfare. About this time he wrote a letter to Admiral Kersaint, of the French navy, in which he criticised fearlessly and trenchantly the naval tactics of the French. Their policy, he explained, was to "neutralize the power of their adversaries, if possible, by grand manoeuvres rather than to destroy it by grand attack;" and objecting to this policy, the dashing Jones, who always desired to "get alongside the enemy," wrote: "Their (the French) combinations have been superb; but as I look at them, they have not been harmful enough; they have not been calculated to do as much capturing or sinking of ships, and as much crippling or killing of seamen, as true and lasting success in naval warfare seems to me to demand.... Should France thus honor me [with a command] it must be with the unqualified understanding that I am not to be restricted by the traditions of her naval tactics; but with full consent that I may, on suitable occasion, to be decreed by my judgment on the spot, try conclusions with her foes to the bitter end or to death, at shorter range and at closer quarters than have hitherto been sanctioned by her tactical authorities."