^■* i-- ' '■' 1^ ^ ji'^*"^':'/-:--:*i«*^'-' '■ '^- . 1 fc,~'^o^- 1 4 •# 1 1 •ii THE THEOLOGICAL WORKS THOMAS PAINE, SECRETABT TO THE COMMITTEE OF FOHEIGN AFFAIRS jy THE AMERlCAPiT REVOLUTION. THE MOST COMPLETE EDITION EVER PUBLISHED. J. P. MENDUM, INVESTIGATOR OFFICE BOSTON. 1859. BL CONTENTS. Preface - • • iii Age of Reason, Part 1st, • ■ -IS . Part 2d. - ... 68 Letter to a Friend ... - - 161 • to the Hon. T. Erskine, on the prosecution of Thomas Williams for publishing the Age of Reason 165 Discourse to the Society of Theophilanthropists • 195 Letter to Camille Jordan - ... SOS Essay on Dream - - - - - 219 Examination of passages in tlie New Testament • - 227 Thoughts on a future state . - - 273 Reply to the Bishop of Llandaff - - - 275 Origin of Free-Masonry - - ' - - 301 Letter to Samuel Adams - . - 332 to Andrew A. Dean ... . 329 Miscellaneous Pieces - - ■ • 332 POETICAL. Song — Hail Great Republic, - - ... 3 Boston Patriotic Song, - - _ i. . 4 Song — To Columbia, &c. - - ... 6 Death of General Wolfe, ----- 8 Song — Liberty Tree, - - - , _ 9 Impromptu on Bachelor's Hall, - - - 10 Farmer Short's Dog Porter, - - - - . _ U Impromptu on a Long-nosed Friend, - - - 15 The Snow Drop and Critic, a Dialogue, - - - 16 Address to Lord Howe, - . - . - 18 What is Love ? --....20 From the Castle in the Air, to the Little Corner of the World, 21 Contentment; or, if you please, Confession, - - - 23 Lines Extempore, July, 1808, - - - - 24 Letter to George Washington, - - . . 3 Letters to the Citizens of the United States, - - - 45 Will of Thomas Paine, ----- 93 Epitaph for the Tomb of Paine, by a Friend, - - 96 f\n*lii-'ii OQ-ft CONTENTS. MISCELLANEOUS. Case of the Officers of the Excise, - - _ - 3 Petition to the Board of Excise, - - - - 16 Letter to Dr. Goldsmith, ----- 17 Introduction to the Pennsylvania Magazine, - - - 18 Cupid and Hymen, ------ 19 Anecdote of Lord Malmsbury, - - - - 22 Letter to a friend, ------ 23 Mathematical Question proposed, - - - ' - 24 Description of a new Electrical Machine, - - - 25 New Anecdotes of Alexander the Great, - - - 28 Letter to Thomas Clio Rickman, - - - - 30 Reflections on the Life and Death of Lord Clive, - - 31 Letter to a Friend in Philadelphia, - - - - 36 Letter to Sir George Staunton, on Iron Bridges, - - 38 Preface to General Lee's Memoirs, - - - - 46 To Forgetfulness, ------ 48 Letter to a Gentleman at New York, -; - - - 55 Essay on the Yellow Fever, - - . - 57 Letter to a Friend, - - - . . .64 Address and Declaration - - - - 65 On the Construction of Iron Bridges, - - - 69 Useful and Entertaining Hints, - - - - - 75 On the Utility of Magazines, - - - - 80 liCtter to Elihu Palmer, - . , - - 85 Communication to the " Citizen," - - _ - 86 PREFACE. Had not religion been made an article of merchanaise, and a class of men set apart to retail it for the benefit of themselves, the enormous evils that have resulted, would not have occurred. As it is, an opposition to the dogmas of a preacher of any de- nomination has a direct tendency, by lowering his tenets in the estimation of the public, to depreciate the profits of his trade. In self defence, therefore, he turns upon the assailant, and ap- pHes to him names to which he attaches opprobrious meanings, such as heretic, infidel, &c. Heretic, however, in the literal sense of the term, means simply a person who entertains an opinion on doctrinal points of religion contrary to the generally received opinion, at any particular period. Thus the catholics, by way of reproach, denominate the protestants heretics, and the protestants, in their turn, apply the same epithet to universalists and unitarians. The late Rev. John Mason, to show his strong disapprobation of the latter sect, went so far as to declare to his congregation, that he would not disgrace the devil so much as to compare them to him. As to the term infidel, all sects are infidels to each other, in consequence of the discrepance in their respective tenets, which laymen have taken no more part in forming than in their own creation. They are made for them by persons who are paid for their services, and whose interest it is to render them obscure, that they may require explanation. As well, therefore, might mankind quarrel about their stature, as about a difference of opinions in the acquirement of which they have been entirely passive, and of the truth of which, neither laymen nor their teachers can have the least possible knowledge. The whole mystery, as before observed, of the heart burnings and ill will among Christian sects, arises from having made of religion a trade ; which has caused a rivalry and contention among the professors of the art of soul-saving that would dis- grace any other business whatever. It is of course the interest of every sectarian preacher to draw after him as many hearers as possible, in order to increase his emoluments ; and the means naturally suggested to effect this, is to abuse and vilify all other schemes of salvation but his own. Thus have religious parties been formed, and deadly animosi- ties engendered and cherished throughout Christendom ever since the introduction of the Jewish and Christian dogmas ; and the gibbet and the stake have been appealed to as the ultimate rea- son of fanatics. Well, therefore, might the venerable John Adams exclaim, as reported by Jefferson, " This would be the best of worlds, if there were no rehgion in it." The only cure for the evils of religion, the curse of supersti tion, which has been entailed upon mankind by an interested priesthood, is for every one to think for himself, and not pay others to think for him ; to reassume that common sense with which nature has endowed him, and of which he has been de prived by his spiritual teachers. " We have," says Jefferson, (see Correspondence, vol. iv. p. 322,) " most unwisely committed to, the hierophants of our par- ticular superstition, the direction of public opinion, that lord of th? universe. We have given them stated and privileged days to collect and catechise us, opportunities of delivering their ora- cles to the people in mass, and of moulding their minds as wax in the hollow of their hands. But in despite of their fulminations against endeavours to enlighten the general mind, to improve the reason of the people, and encourage them in the use of it, the liberality of this state will support this institution,* and give fair play to the cultivation of reason." The manner in which ministers of the gospel are got up, is worthy a passing notice. Young men who receive a collegiate education, are governed in the choice of business', by the advice of parents, the opinion they entertain of the abilities they pos- sess, or the apparent prospect of the greatest gain in either of the learned professions, without regard to their religious propen- sities. Those who determine on divinity, in the last year of their term at college, hold conference meetings, and exercise themselves in the art of praying, and in disquisitions on religion Divines thus formed, can readily accommodate their religion to circumstances. If they find the pulpit overstocked in the persuasion in which they were educated, they often change their opinion, and adopt another creed. There are several instances in this city, of young men, who were educated presbyterians, becoming episcopal clergymen, in consequence, as they declared to intimate friends, of that church paying better than the one they abandoned. Men of liberal education, who have gained * The University of Charlottesville, in Virginia, of which Mr. Jefferson was the founder. PREFACE. V some knowledge of the frauds of religion, can easier change their creeds than sincere devotees who are duped by them. And what does their preaching amount to 1 What is the mighty boon obtained, as is said, by the excruciating sufferings even of a God ; the glad tidings trumpeted forth by divines, and hailed with great joy by their grateful hearers 1 What is it, but 'that a very small portion of the human species will be made happy in another life, and that the remainder will be roasted, in a brim- stone fire, to all eternity ? Are these glad tidings 1 Are they not rather to be deprecated as the tidings of damnation 1 Shall human reason be tortured for arguments in proof of a doctrine so abhorrent to justice and humanity ; so abhon-ent to any ration- al idea that can be conceived of a Creator, and of every principle of right and ^vrong established among men ] The chances in this lottery of life and death, according to the statements of the- ologians, are at least, a thousand to one against every living soul ; and yet the scheme is cherished as an infinite benefit to mankind. And what are the alleged causes that involved the human race in this shocking predicament ? Why, that a woman in some age of the world, nobody knows when or where, eat an apple, or some other fruit, contrary to the commands of her Maker. " The very head and front of her offendmg Hath this extent, no more." Upon this pitiful story, the whole foundation of priestcraft is laid. It is followed up with the sacrifice of a god to atone for the monstrous offence of poor Eve ; and then comes the great benefit of the boasted atonement ; which, by the way, is to pro- cure salvation only for those who had been previously elected for that purpose ; and who are coerced into the true faith through the instrumentality of the Holy Ghost, without the least claims on account of their own merits ; whilst the rest, who could be no more implicated in the faux pas of the first pair than the former, are debarred that favour by an absolute decree. " With- out controversy, great is the mystery of godliness." It is matter of surprise that any person, who believes in the existence of a Supreme Being, should have the hardihood to at- tribute to him such deliberate cruelty, such pitiful subterfuge, such palpable mockery of justice t All clergymen deem themselves to be numbered among the elect, and are so considered by their followers ; and that the bulk of their congregations are doomed to perdition. In this point of view, it is heart-rending for a man of sense and feeling to wit- ness with what sang froid, and cruel, I had almost said savage exultation, they expatiate upon the tortures of the damned ; whilst their hearers, as tame and passive as lambs, listen with reverential awe and respect, and appear to acquiesce in the just- ness of their condemnation. In fact, the members of presbyte- rian congregations, in general, would not like their minister if he did not preach hell fire as the just reward of their backslidingg, and want of faith and zeal in the cause of Christ ; and in default thereof, would change him for another ihore orthodox. As is required, they profess a willingness to be damned, provided nevertheless, that the glory of God shall be thereby enhanced. The following are fair samples of the eternal ding-dong upon this subject, with which calvinistic divines regale their hearers. The late Dr. Jonathan Edwards, (whose writings are highly applauded by the English reviewers, who seem to consider it their interest to commend those whose aim is to stupify and besot the minds of the people,) in a sermon on the duration and torments of hell, says, " Be entreated to consider attentively how great and aAvful a thing Eternity is. Although you cannot comprehend it the more by considering, yet you may be made more sensible that it is not a thing to be disregarded. Do but consider what it is to suffer extreme pain for ever and ever ; to suffer it day and night, from one day to another, from one year to another, from one age to another, from one thousand ages to another ; and so adding age to age, and thousands to thousands, in pain, in wailing and tor- menting, groaning and shrieking, and gnashing your teeth ; with your souls full of dreadful grief and amazement, with your bodies, and every member of them, full of racking torture ; without any possibility of getting ease ; without any possibility of moving God to pity by your cries ; without any po&sil)ility of hiding yourselves from him ; without any possibility of diverting your thoughts from your pain ; without any possibility of obtaining any manner of mitigation, or help, or change for the better. How disniijl will it be, when you are und,er these racking tor- ments, to know assuredly that you never, never shall be deliver- ed from them." — " The saints in glory will be far more sensible how dreadful the ^vrath of God is, and will better understand how terrible the sufferings of the damned are, yet this will be no occasion o( grief to them, but rejoicing. They will not be sorry for the damned ; it will cause no uneasiness or dissatisfaction to them, but, on the contrary, when they see this sight it will occa sion rejoicing and excite them to joyful jyraises." The Rev. Dr. Emmons, of Massachusetts, distinguished for his piety and biblical knowledge, gives the following lively de- scription of the joys of the elect, contrasted with the sufferings of the reprobated : •' The happiness of the elect in heaven will in part consist in witnessing the torments of the damned in hell, and among these it may be their own children, parents, husbands, wives, and friends on earth. " One part of the business of the blessed is to celebrate the doctrine of reprobation. While the decree of reprobation is ex- ternally executing on the vessels of wrath, the smoke of their torment will be eternally ascending in the view of the vessels of rUEFACE. mercy, wlio instead of taking the part of those misemhle objects^ will say amen, hallelujah, praise the Lord. " When the saints shall see how great the misery is from which God hath saved them, and how great a difference he hath made between their state, and the state of others who were by nature, and perhaps by practice, no more sinfid and ill-deserving than they, it will give them more a sense of the wonderfulness of God's grace to them. Every time they look upon the damn- ed, it will excite in them a lively and admiring sense of the grace of God in making them so to differ. The sight of hell torments will exalt the happiness of the saints for ever.'' Dr. Parish, of the same state, in a sermon delivered in the time of our late war with England, in denunciation of his coun- trymen who rendered it their support, exclaimed, " How will the supporters of this anti-christian warfare endure their sen- tence, endure their o^vn reflections ; endure the fire that for frer burns.: the worm that never dies ; the hosannas of neaven. w&jie the smoke of their torments will ascend /or ever and ever /" Notwithstanding the confidence and apparent self-security in which presbyterian mimsters an:i:2a«iVji!. upon the vindictive spirit of the Almighty, and the horrors of that hell, which, according to them, he has prepared for the reception of the greatest portion of his creatures, if reliance can be had upon the view taken of the means necessary for salvation bv the late Bishop Hobart, their conden-Liaaon is inevitable . The grand panacea for the cure of all evil, and the restoration of man to the favour of the Deity, seems, with the bishop, to consist in the due administration &f the rite of baptism. In his Companion to the Altar, he says : " In this church, the body which derives nle, strenstn and salvation from Christ its head, baptism was instituted as tne sa- cred rite of admission. In this regenerating ordinance, fallen man is born again from a state of condemnation to a state of grace. He obtains a title to the presence of the Holy Spirit, to the forgiveness of sins, to all those precious and immortal bless- ings which the blood of Christ purchased." Com. for the Allar, ed. 1824, p. 186. " Wherever the gospel is promulgated, the only mode through which we can obtain a title to those blessings and privileges which Christ has purchased for his mystical body, the church, is the sacrament of baptism. Repentance, faith, and obedience, will not of themselves be effectual to our salvation. We may sin- cerely repent of our sins — heartily believe the Gospel ; we may walk in the paths of holy obedience : but until we enter into covenant with God by baptism, and ratify our vows of allegiance and duty at the holy sacrament of the Supper — commemorate the mysterious sacrifice of Christ, we cannot assert any claim to salvation." lb. pp. IS9 — 90. " In order to be effectual, to be acknowledged by God, and accompanied by his power, they (the sacraments) must be ad- ministered by those who have received a commission for the purpose from him." — " None can possess authority to adminis- ter the sacraments but those who have received a commission from the bishops of the church." — " Great is the guilt and im- minent the danger of those who negligently or wilfully continue in a state of separation from the authorised ministrations of the church, and participate of ordinances administered by an irregu- lar and invalid authority" — " wlfully rending the peace and unity of the church, by separating from the administration of its au- thorised priesthood ; obstinately contemning the means which God has prescribed for their salvation. They are guilty of re- hellion against the almighty Lawgiver and Judge ; they expose themselves to the awful displeasure of that almighty Jehovah, who will not suffer his institutions to be contemned, or his au- thority violated, with impunity." Ih. pp. 198 — 200 : 203 — 4. This is all fair as a matter of trade. The rivalry for adher- ents constantly carried on among the various denominations of Christians, justifies every divine in endeavouring to draw as many gurlls to his shop as possible ; and the end must sanctify the means. From this nonsense, advanced even by wise men, with a view of promoting their interests, it is pleasant to turn to the writings of philosophers who have not the same inducements. Thomas Jefferson speaks of religion as every man of common sense, not under the influence of early impressions before the mind is capable of distinguishing right from wrong, thinks ; and as every honourable man, who wishes to benefit his species, ought to express himself. The following sentiments are extracted from his correspond- ence with his old revolutionary colleague, John Adams, whose minds seem in perfect unison on the subject treated of ; both must be actuated by the purest motives of humanity, as no sinis- ter views could possibly be entertained at the late period in which the letters were written. " I remember to have heard Dr. Priestleysay, that if all Eng- land would candidly examine themselves, and confess, they would iind that unitarianism was really the religion of all. It is too late in the day for men of sincerity to pretend they believe in the Platonic mysticisms that three are one, and one is three ; and yet that the one is not three, and the three are not one : to divide mankind by a single letter into homooiisians and homoiousians. But this constitutes the craft, the power, and the profit of the priests. Sweep away their gossamer fabrics of factitious reli- gion, and they would catch no more flies. We should all then, like the Quakers, live without an order of priests, moralize for ourselves, follow the oracle of conscience, and say nothing about what no man can understand nor therefore beheve ; for I sup- pose belief to be the assent of the mind to an intelligible propo- sition." Vol. iv. p. 205. " The Christian priesthood, finding the doctrine of Christ levelled to every understanding, and too plain to need explana- tion, saw in the mysticisms of Plato, materials with which they might build up an artificial system, which might, from its indis- tinctness, admit everlasting controversy, give employment for their order, and introduce it to profit, power, and pre-eminence. The doctrines which flowed from the lips of Jesus himself are within the comprehension of a child ; but thousands of volumes have not yet explained the Platonisms engrafted on them ; and for this obvious reason, that nonsense can never be explained. Their purposes, however, are answered. Plato is canonized ; and it is now deemed as impious to question his merits as those of an apostle of Jesus." lb. p. 242. " The doctrines of Jesus are simple, and tend all to the hap- piness of man. But compare with these the demoralizing dog- mas of Calvin. " 1. That there are three Gods. — 2. That good works, oi the love of our neighbour, are nothing. — 3. That faith is every thing, and the more incomprehensible the proposition, the more merit in its faith. — 4. That reason in religion is of unlawful use. — 5. That God, from the beginning, elected certain individuals to be saved, and certain others to be damned ; and that no crimes of the former can damn them ; no virtues of the latter, save. " Now, which of these is the true and charitable Christian ; he who believes and acts on the simple doctrines of Jesus, or the impious dogmatists, as Athanasius and Calvin ?" lb. p. 349. " The wishes expressed in your last favour, that I may con- tinue in life and health until I become a Calvinist, would make me immortal. I can never join Calvin in addressing his God. He was indeed an atheist, which I can never be ; or rather his religion was daemonism. If ever man worshipped a false God, he did. The being described in his five points, is not the God whom you and I acknowledge and adore, the creator and benevo- lent governor of the world ; but a daemon of malignant spirit. It would be more pardonable to believe in no God at all, than to blaspheme him by the atrocious attributes of Calvin. Indeed, I think that every Christian sect gives a great handle to atheism by their general dogma, that, without a revelation, there would not be sufficient proof of the being of a God. Now, one-sixth of mankind only are supposed to be Christians : the other five- sixths then, who do not believe in the Jewish and Christian rev- elation, are without a knowledge of the existence of a God !" Jb. p. 363. " The result of your fifty or sixty years of religious reading ia the four words, ' Be just and good,' is that in which all our in- quiries must end ; as the riddles of all the priesthoods end in four X FREFACE. more, *Ubi panis, ibi deusJ* " Ih. p. 300. Where there is bread, there is God. That is, whatever religion is most conducive to the interests of the clergy, that they will preach. This is what the professors of every otner kmd of business do. If any community of people should prefer five wheels to a coach, and would give high prices for such, a coach-maker would act very unwisely to refuse to accommodate them. The clergy arei therefore, not so much to blame as the people who take their quack medicines and pay very dear for them.. If praying be of any service, every one knows what he stands most in need of, and should therefore prefer his own petitions, instead of paying others for doing it. And as for moral instruction, there are cer- tainly books enough extant upon that subject, the cost of which is nothing in comparison to what is paid for oral sermons. Let the people shake off the shackles with which they are bound by the existing priestcraft, and profess a manly religion, founded upon moral virtue alone, divested of all creeds, as the sure and only foundation of happiness here and hereafter, and they would soon find teachers enough who would accommodate themselves to their wishes. In this case, useful, scientific in- struction would form a prominent part of the preacher's duty. How much more pleasant and satisfactory would such a course be, than in listening to the eternal repetition of stupid, unintelli- gible dogmas, which can never be of the least possible advan- tage. The religious opinions of Jefferson, Franklin, John Adams, and a host of wise and good men in Europe and America, differ in no respect from those of Thomas Paine. Yet he has been singled out particularly as a mark for the priesthood to aim their most deadly shafts. This, no doubt, arose from fear that his writings would prove more destructive to the craft than those of other liberal writers, on account of the bold, plain common sense which distinguishes his compositions. Mr. Paine's natural goodness of heart seems to have rendered him sceptical in the prevailing religious dogmas, at an early pe- riod. He says, " from the time I was capable of conceiving an idea and acting upon it by reflection, I either doubted the truth of the Christian system, or thought it to be a strange affair ; I scarcely know which it was, but I well remember, when about seven or eight years of age, hearing a sermon read upon the Redemption, by the death of the Son of God, After the sermon was ended, I revolted at the recollection of what I had heard ; it was to me a serious reflection, arising from the idea I had, that God was too good to do such an action, and also too almighty to be under the necessity of doing it. I believed in the same man- ner to this moment." Of Jesus Christ he speaks in the following terms : " The morality that he preached and practised was of the most benevo- lent kind; according to his declarations, in the 25th chapter of Matthew, he makes salvation, or the future happiness of man, to depend entirely upon good ti-orA-s. Here is nothing about pre- destination, that lust which some men have for damning one an- other. Here is nothing about baptism, whether sprinkling or plunging, nor about any of those ceremonies for which the Chris- tian church has been fighting, persecuting and burning each other, ever since the Christian church began." In another part, he says, " My own opinion is, that those whose liyes have been spent in doing good, and endeavouring to make their fellow mortals happy, for this is the only way in which we can serve God, loill be happy hereafter : and that the very wicked will meet with some punishment. This is my opinion. It is consistent with my idea of God's justice, and with the reason that God has given me." Why should Mr. Paine be reprobated for these opinions, and the clergy, who proclaim the eternal damnation of their species, be approved of and applauded 1 The reason is plain. The clergy " mould the minds of the people like wax in the hollow of their hands." They well know, if Paine's principles prevail, their consequence and high salaries would be at an end. Hence the outcry against him and those who adopt his opinions. King's, in the first instance, created a band of priests to tyrannize over the mental faculties of man, that they might the more readily enslave him ; and the American republic imbibed the malady through a predisposition to infection inherited from their ances- tors. The business of life is incorporated with priestcraft, and whoever takes an honorable part in vindication of truth, is sure to meet with abuse. The doctrine of let us alone, is the constant cry of priests, and the fear of censure from the pulpit creates and fosters the detestable crime of hypocrisy. The flatteries and respect shown to the clerical character, of all denominations, has induced some of the profession to adopt a language towards their opponents truly astonishing. In fact, many preachers of the Gospel of Christ, seem to consider them- selves licenced calumniators, and that they have a right, by vir- tue of their office, to abuse the whole human race, as enemies to God and all righteousness. A few years since, a young preacher of the Methodist connec tion arrived in this country from England. He laid great claims to religious endowments, and, in consequeftce of his pertness and assurance, was highly caressed by the members of his church. Emboldened by the attentions he received, in order to show his zeal for the cause, he had the effrontery, at a tract society meeting, to express himself in the following terms : " I thank God, that the bones of Tom Paine have been rooted up, and no longer disgrace the soil of our country." No man at the meeting, or in the public prints since, dared to reprove him. As a man of God, he Avas deemed to bf- privileged to stigmatize the memory XU PREFACK. of one who had so powerfully opposed the clerical scheme of eternal misery. The same spirit, which dictated the above declaration, is con- spicuous in an article that lately appeared in the New-York Herald, supposed to be written by an English -clergyman of the Episcopal church. It is entitled, " The Lone Tomb ; a scene in Westchester county." The object of it was to eulo- gize the virtues of a young woman who died in New-Rochelle, at the age of nineteen. Thomas Paine, at the mention of whose name, the clergy were wont to quake, was also dead, and had been interred in the same village. What a glorious opportunity — it was irresistible ; and the pious parson improved it to bespatter the tomb of the great advocate of human rights ; the vindicator of the justice and goodness of God ; the opponent of the plead- ers for Calvinistic fire and brimstone. And, strange as it may appear, he fouad an American printer who was enjoying, in com- mon with his countrymen, the fruits of Paine's revolutionary ser- vices, indiscreet, or shall I say, base enough to lend his types in furtherance of the unholy purpose. The article concludes as follows : " Here is found the deUght- ful village where the pious, but persecuted Huguenots, fleeing from oppressions of bigotry and intolerance, found a quiet and a happy home ; and where too is still pointed out the consecrated little enclosure, in which, when the toils and suflerings of this life were over, they rested from their labors. And here, alas ! that the place should be known but to be shunned, — here is yet seen the ruins of the sad and forsaken spot rendered infamotis by the sepulchre of the infidel Paine ! /" This consistent Christian writer, in persecuting the memory of Paine, commits the same outrage that he reprobates in others. — But, in the one case, it regarded pious Huguenots, Calvinists, who believed in hell-fire ; in the other an infidel, who was en- deavouring to wrest mankind from the clutches of the clergy, and to render them happy, here and hereafter, by the mere force of moral virtue. The difference, in the view of a minister of the gospel, must be enormous indeed. — But where were nine-tenths of these believing Huguenots, according to their own doctrine, after their toils and sufferings were over, to rest] In hell, among glowing embers ! This is a true statement of the case, and I leave the reader to his own reflections. I will mention one more instance of clerical charity and for- bearance. A preacher in the Dutch church, corner of Cedar and Nassau streets, lately gave vent to the following rodomon- tade :~ " A deist, he said, was no man — he unmans himself — he is an enemy to science — denies all history, and is a rebel to Jil- mighty God!" The last clause of the sentence the speaker pro- nounced with great energy, raising at the same time both hands to heaven. A gentleman, in company with the reporter, who mistook declamation for argument, on leavmg the church, observ- ed, that Mr. was a most powerful preacher ; and probably this was the opinion of the bulk of the audience. It is, however, still a mooted case, which is the greatest rebel to God, the deist who represents him as benevolent, just and merciful ; or the Cal- vinistic divine who clothes him with attributes that would dis- grace a savage ? " The quality of mercy is not strain'd ; It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath : it is twice blessed ; It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes : 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest.''^ By the extracts I have made from the writings and speeches of clergymen, some might be inclined to think them in general a very wicked class of men ; but this is by no means the case. — They are like men in other pursuits of life, some good and some bad. The system is more in fault, than the professors. They are hired to teach a certain set of dogmas, which they cannot de- part from without bringing ruin upon themselves. Were a pres- byterian parson, for instance, to say to his congregation, that God was too benevolent and merciful to punish any of them to all eternity ; that punishments would be graduated to crimes, and that if their lives were moral, they need be in no fear of incurring his displeasure on account of their opinions ; the consequence would be that every old lady imbued with orthodox principles, and who had an enemy, on earth, that she wished to be roasted forever, would immediately quit his church. Their daughters would take the same course, and the men would be compelled to follow suit. The parson, consequently, would be left without hearers, and without bread. Let us not, then, blame the clergy, but ourselves. Old bigoted schemes of religion must be broken down, and plain common sense substituted for them ; and this must be done by laymen — it is not in the power of the clergy to effect it. I will here introduce a few appropriate questions, propounded by the celebrated Voltaire. * Next to our holy religion, which would be the least excep- tionable ? Would it not be the most simple — that which taught a great deal of morality and few doctrines — that which tended to make men virtuous without making them fools — that which did not impose the belief of things impossible, contradictory, injuri- ous to the deity, and pernicious to mankind ; and which did not take on itself to threaten, with eternal punishments, all who had common sense 1 Would it not be that which did not support its articles by executioners, and deluge the world with blood, for un- intelligible sophisms 1 Would it not be that which taught only the adoration of one God, of justice, forbearance and humanity?" After all that Christian divines have said of the intensity and eternity of hell-fire, to which, according to them, the greater por- tion of mankind are doomed, admitting even, for the sake of ar- gument, the authority of the Jewish and Christian scriptures, there is not a word in those books which designates the terrific place represented by them. The Hebrew words Scheol and Hades which have been translated hell, mean nothing more, as every Jew can inform us, than the grave. The Gehnmom of the Old Tes- tament and the Gehenna of the New, also translated hell, mean the valley of Hinnom ; wherein the Israelites sacrificed their chil- dren to the god JMoloch ; and where a fire was continually burn- ing to consume the dead bodies of criminals to whom the rite ol sepulchre was not granted, as well as the filth of Jerusalem. Moloch was a name given to a representation or emblem of the sun, which was itself only a symbol of the divinity, inherited by the Jews from the Egyptians. The fire in the Valley of Hin- nom, for the purposes before mentioned, was first established by king Josiah about one thousand years after the supposed death of Moses, and was not suffered to be extinguished. The insects which subsisted upon the garbage scattered about this valley were, of course, never extinct ; hence the exclamation, " Where the icoi'in dieth not^ and the fire is not quenched /" Tartants, once mentioned in the New Testament, is pre-emi- nently the hell of the ancient Greeks and Romans, but owes its origin to Egypt. The burying ground of Memphis, the ancient capital of Egypt, was on an island called Elyzout, decorated with beautiful groves and meadows ; to arrive at which it w^as necessary to pass a small lake, on whose margin three Judges were station- ed to examine into the characters of the defunct ; if they proved good, a passport was given by them to the ferry-man, called Cha- ron, to transmit the bodies, otherwise they were cast into a deep pit, denominated Tartarus; from whence is probably derived the expression bottomless pit, made use of in the Apocalypse. The Egyptians had an idea that the soul after death enjoyed or sutfered with the body; and, in this respect, the contrast betwe^.n Elyzout and Tartarus must, in their eyes, have appeared infinite. From this custom of the Egyptians have arisen the fables of the Greeks and Romans of the pleasures enjoyed by those who had the good fortune to arrive at Elyzout, or Elysian fields, as they called it, and the various torments inflicted upon those doomed to Tartarus. But it is time for mankind to cease to believe in fables ; to cease to teach, or hear them taught, as sacred truths ; to study their real predicament in nature, and to regulate their lives ac- cordingly. EDITOR. THE AGE OF REASON. PART FIRST. FELLOW CITIZENS UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. I PUT the following work under your protection. It contains my opinion upon Religion. You will do mc the justice to re- member, that I have always strenuously supported the Right of every Man to his opinion, however different that opinion might be to mine. He who denies to another this right, makes a slave of himself to his present opinion, because he precludes himself the right of changing it. The most formidable weapon against errors of every kind is Reason. I have never used any other, and I trust I never shall. Tour affectionate friend and fellow citizen, THOMAS PAINE. Luxembourg, {Paris,) Sth Pulviose, Second year of the French Republic, one and indivisible. January 27, O. S. 1794. THE AGE OF REASON. PART THE FIRST. BEING AN INVESTIGATION OF TRUE AND FABULOUS THEOLOGY. It has been my intention, for several years past, to publish my .houghts upon religion ; I am well aware of the difficulties that attend the subject, and, from that consideration, had reserved it to a more advanced period of life. I intended it to be the last offer- ing I should make to ray fellow citizens of all nations, and that at a time when the purity of the motive that induced me to it, could not admit of a question, even by those who might disapprove the work The circumstance that has now taken place in France of the total abolition of the whole national order of priesthood, and of every thing appertaining to compulsive systems of religion, and compulsive articles of faith, has not only precipitated my inten- tion, but rendered a work of this kind exceedingly necessary, lest, in the general wreck of superstition, of false systems of govern- ment, and false theology, we lose sight of morality, of humanity, and of the theology that is true. As several of my colleagues, and others of my fellow-citizens of France, have given me the example of making their voluntary and individual profession of faith, I also will make mine ; and I do this with all that sincerity and frankness with which the mind of maa eommunicates with itself. 12 THE AGE or REASOK. [FART I. I teliev* in one God, and no more ; and I hope for happiness beyond this life. I believe the equality of man ; and I believe that religious duties consist in doing justice, loving mercy, and endeavouring to make our fellow creatures happy. But, lest it should be supposed that I believe many other things in addition to these, I shall, in the progress of this work, declare the things I do not believe, and my reasons for not believing them. I do not believe in the creed professed by the Jewish church, by the Roman church, by the Greek church, by the Turki^5h church, by the Protestunt church, nor by any church that I know of. My own mind is my own church. All national institutions of churches, whether Jewish, Chris- tian, or Turkish, appear to me no other than human inventions, set up to terrify and enslave mankind, and monopolize power and profit. I do not mean by this declaration to condemn those who believe otherwise ; they have the same right to their belief as I have to mine. But it is necessary to the happiness of man, that he be mentally faithful to himself. Infidelity docs not consist in believ ing, or in disbelieving ; it consists in professing to believe what he does not believe. It is impossible to calculate the moral mischief, if I may so express it, that mental lying has produced in society. When a man has so far corrupted and prostituted the chastity of his mind, as to subscribe his professional belief to thitigs he does not be- lieve, he has prepared himself for the commission of every other crime. He takes up the trade of a priest for the sake of gain, and, in order to qualify himself for that trade, he begins with a perjury. Can we conceive any thing more destructive to morality than this ? Soon after I had published the pamphlet, " Common Sense," in America, I saw the exceeding probability that a revolution in the system of government would be followed by a revolution in the system of religion. The adulterous connection of church and state, wherever it had taken place, whether Jewish, Christian, or Turkish, had so effectually prohibited, by pains and penalties, every discussion upon established creeds, and upon first princi- ples of religion, that until the system of government should be rART I.J THE AGE OF REASON. 13 changed, those subjects could not be brought fairly and openly before the world ; but that whenever this should be done, a revo- lution in the system of religion would follow. Human inven- tions and priest-craft would be detected ; and man would return to the pure, unmixed, and unadulterated belief of one God, and no more. Every national church or religion has established itself by pre- tending some special mission from God, communicated to certain individuals. The Jews have their Moses ; the Christians their Jesus Christ, their apostles, and saints ; and the Turks their Ma- nomet, as if the way to God was not open to every man alike. Each of those churches show certain books, which they call reve- lation, or the word of God. The Jews say, that their word of God was given by God to Moses, face to face ; the Christians say, that their word of God came by divine inspiration ; and the Turks say, that their word of God (the Koran) was brought by an angel from Heaven. Each of those churches accuse the other of un- belief; and, for my own part, I disbelieve them all. As it is necessary to affix right ideas to words, I will, before I proceed further into the subject, offer some other observations on the word revelation. Revelation when applied to religion, means something communicated immediately from God to man. No one will deny or dispute the power of the Almighty to make such a communication, if he pleases. But admitting, for the sake of a case, that something has been revealed to a certain person, and not revealed to any other person, it is revelation to that person only. When he tells it to a second person, a second to a third, a third to a fourth, and so on, it ceases to be a revelation to all those persons. It is revelation to the first person only, and hearsay to every other, and, consequently, they are not obliged to believe it. It is a contradiction in terms and ideas, to call any thing a revelation that comes to us at second-hand, either verbally or in writing. Revelation is necessarily limited to the first communi- cation — after this, it is only an account of something which that person says was a revelation made to him ; and though he may find himself obliged to believe it, it cannot be incumbent on me to believe it in the same manner ; for it was not a revelation made to mc, and I have only his word for it that it was made to him. When Moses told the children of Israel that he received the tw* tables of the commandments from the hands of God, thoy were 14 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART I. not obliged to believe him, because they had no other authority for it than his telling them so ; and I have no other authority for it than some historian telling me so. The commandments carry no internal evidence of divinity with them; they contain some good moral precepts, such as any man qualified to be a lawgiver, or a legislator, could produce himself, without having recourse to supernatural intervention.* When I am told that the Koran was written in Heaven, and brought to Mahomet by an angel, the account comes too near the same kind of hearsay evidence and second-hand authority as the former. I did not see the angel myself, and, therefore, I have a right not to believe it- When also I am told that a woman called the Virgin Mary, said, or gave out, that she was with child without any cohabitation with a man, and that her betrothed husband, Joseph, said that an angel told him so, I have a right to believe them or not ; such a circumstance required a much stronger evidence than their bare word for it ; but we have not even this — for neither Joseph nor Mary wrote any such matter themselves ; it is only reported by others that therj said so — it is hearsay upon hearsay, and I do not choose to rest my belief upon such evidence. It is, however, not difficult to account for the credit that was given to the story of Jesus Christ being the son of God. He was born when the heathen mythology had still some fashion and repute in the world, and that mythology had prepared the people for the belief of such a story. Almost all the extraordinary men that lived under the heathen mythology were reputed to be the sons of some of their gods. It was not a new thing, at that time, to believe a man to have been celestially begotten ; the intercourse of god3 with women was tl^en a matter of familiar opinion. Their Jupitor, according to their accounts, had cohabited with hundreds ; the story therefore had nothing in it either new, wonderful or ob- scene ; it was conformable to the opinions that then prevailed among the people called Gentiles, or Mythologists, and it was those people only that believed it. The Jews, who had kept strictly to the belief of one God, and no more, and who had always rejected the heathen mythology, never credited the story. * It is, however, necessary to except the declaration which says that God visits the sins of the fathers .upon the children; it is contr? y to every principle of moral jxxstice. PART I.] THB AGE OF REASOIT. 15 It is curious to observe how the theory of what is called the Christian Church, sprung out of the tail of heathen mythology. A direct incorporation took place in the first instance, by making the reputed founder to be celestially begotten. The trinity of gods that then followed was no other than a reduction of the former plurality, which was about twenty or thirty thousand ; the statue of Mary succeeded the statue of Diana of Ephesus ; the deification of heroes changed into the canonization of saints ; the mythologists had gods for every thing ; the Christian Mythologist3 had saints for every thing ; the church became as crowded with the one, as the pantheon had been with the other ; and Rome was the place of both. The Christian theory is little else than the idolatry of the ancient Mythologists, accommodated to the pur- poses of power and revenue ; and it yet remains to reason and philosophy to abolish the amphibious fraud. Nothing that is here said can apply, even with the most distant disrespect, to the real character of Jesus Christ. He was a vir- tuous and an amiable man. The morality that he preached and practised was of the most benevolent kind ; and though similar systems of morality had been preached by Confucius, and by some of the Greek philosophers, many years before ; by the Quakers since ; and by many good men in all ages, it has not been ex- ceeded by any. Jesus Christ wrote no account of himself, of his birth, parent- age, or any thing else ; not a line of what is called the New Testament is of his own writing. The history of him is alto- gether the work of other people ; and as to the account given ot his resurrection and ascension, it was the necessary counterpart to the story of his birth. His historians, having brought him into the world in a supernatural manner, were obliged to take him out again in the same manner, or the first part of the story must have fallen to the ground. The wretched contrivance with which this latter part is told, ex- ceeds every thing that went before it. The first part, that of the miraculous conception, was not a thing that admitted of publicity ; and therefore the tellers of this part of the story had this ad- Yantage, that though they might not be credited, they could not be detected. They could not be expected to prove it, because Jt was not one of those things that admitted of proof, and it was IS THE AGE OF BEASOIV. [pART I impossible that the person of whom it was told could prove it himself. But the resurrection of a dead person from the grave, and his ascension through the air, is a thing very different as to the evi- dence it admits of, to the invisible conception of a child in the womb. The resurrection and ascension, supposing them to have taken place, admitted of public and occular demonstration, like that of the ascension of a balloon, or the sun at noon day, to all Jerusalem at least. A thing which every body is required to believe, requires that the proof and evidence of it should be equal to all, and universal ; and as the public visibility of this last related act, was the only evidence that could give sanction to the former part, the whole of it falls to the ground, because that evi- dence never was given. Instead of this, a small number of per- sons, not more than eight or nine, are introduced as proxies for the whole world, to say they saw it, and all the rest of the world are called upon to believe it. But it appears that Thomas did not believe the resurrection ; and, as they say, would not be- lieve without having occular and manual demonstration himself. So neither tvill J, and the reason is equally as good for me, and for every other person, as for Thomas. It is in vain to attempt to palliate or disguise this matter. The story, so far as relates to the supernatural part, has every mark of fraud and imposition stamped upon the face of it. Who were the authors of it is as impossible for us now to know, as it is for us to be assured, that the books in which the account is related, were written by the persons whose names they bear ; the best surviving evidence we now have respecting this affair is the Jews. They are regularly descended from the people who lived in the time this resurrection and ascension is said to have happened, and they say, it is not true. It has long appeared to me a strange inconsistency to cite the Jews as a proof of the truth of the story. It is just the same as if a man were to say, I will prove the truth of what I have told you, by producing the people who say it is false. That such a person as Jesus Christ existed, and that he was crucified, which was the mode of execution at that day, are his- torical relations strictly within the Umits of probability. He preached most excellent morality, and the equality of man ; but he preached also against the corruptions and avarice of tbje Jew- ish priests, smd this brought upon him the hatred and vengeance of PART I.J THE AGE OF REASON. 17 the whole order of priesthood. The accusation which those priests brought against him was that of sedition and conspiracy against the Roman government, to which the Jews were tlien subject and tributary ; and it is not improbable that the Roman government might have some secret apprehensions of the effects of his doctrine as well as the Jewish priests ; neither is it impro- bable that Jesus Christ had in contemplation the delivery of the Jewish nation from the bondage of the Romans. Between the two, however, this virtuous reformer and revolutionist lost his life. It is upon this plain narrative of facts, together Avith another case I am going to mention, that the Christian Mythologists, calling themselves the Christian Church, have erected their fable, which for absurdity and extravagance, is not exceeded by any thing that is to be found in the mythology of the ancients. The ancient Mythologists tell us that the race of Giants made war against Jupiter, and that one of them threw a hundred rocks against him at one throw ; that Jupiter defeated him with thunder, and confined him afterwards under Mount Etna, and that every time the Giant turns himself. Mount Etna belches fire. It is here easy to see that the circumstance of the mountain, that of its being a volcano, suggested the idea of the fable ; and that the fable is made to fit and wind itself up with that circum- stance. The Christian Mythologists tell us, that their Satan made war against the Almighty, who defeated him, and confined him after- wards, not under a mountain, but in a pit. It is here easy to see that the first fable suggested the idea of the second ; for the fable of Jupiter and the Giants was told many hundred years before that of Satan. Thus far the ancient and the christian Mythologists differ very little from each other. But the latter have contrived to carry the matter much farther. They have contrived to connect the fabu- lous part of the story of Jesus Christ with the fable originating from Mount Etna ; and, in order to make all the parts of the story tie together, they have taken to their aid the traditions of the Jews ; for the Christian mythology is made up partly from the ancient mythology, and partly from the Jewish traditions* The Christian Mythologists, after having confined Satan in a pit, were obliged to let him out again to bring om the sequel of tfie 18 ACE OF REASON. [PART 1 fable. He is then introduced into the Garden of Eden in th« shape of a snake or a serpent, and in that shape he enters into familiar conversation with Eve, who is no way surprised to hear a snake talk ; and ihe issue of this tete-a-tete is, that he persuades her to eat an apple, and the eating of that apple damns all man- kind. After giving Satan this triumph over the whole creation, one would have supposed that the church Mythologists would have been kind enough to send him back to the pit : or, if they had not done this, that they would have put a mountain upon him, (for they say that their faith can remove a mountain) or have put him under a mountain, as the former Mythologists had done, to pre- vent his getting again among the women and doing more mischief. But instead of this, they leave him at large, without even obliging him to give his parole — the secret of which is, that they could not do without him ; and after being at the trouble of making him, they bribed him to stay. They promised him all the Jews, all the Turks by anticipation, nine-tenths of the world beside, and Mahomet into the bargain. After this, who can doubt the boun tifulness of the Christian mythology. Having thus made an insurrection and a battle in Heaven, in which none of the combatants could be either killed or wounded — put Satan into the pit — let him out again — given him a triumph over the whole creation — damned all mankind by the eating of an apple, these Christian Mythologists bring the two ends of theii fable together. They represent this virtuous and amiable man, Jesus Christ, to be at once both God and Man, and also the Son of God, celestially begotten, on purpose to be sacrificed, because they say that Eve in her longing had eaten an apple. Putting aside every thing that might excite laughter by its ab- surdity, or detestation by its profaneness, and confining ourselves merely to an examination of the parts, it is impossible to conceive a story more derogatory to the Almighty, more inconsistent with his wisdom, more contradictory to his power, than this story is. In order to make for it a foundation to rise upon, the inventois were under the necessity of giving to the being, whom they call Satan, a power equally as great, if not greater than they attribute to the Almighty. They have not only given him the power of liberating himself from the pit, after what they call his fall, but thev have made that power increase afterwards to infinity. Before PART I.] THE AGE OP REASON. 19 this fall they represent him only as an angel of limited existence, as they represent the rest. After his fall, he becomes, by their account, omnipresent. He exists everywhere, and at the same time. He occupies the whole immensity of space. Not content with this deification of Satan, they represent him as defeating, by stratagem, in the shape of an animal of the crea- tion, all the power and wisdom of the Almighty. They represent him as having compelled the Almighty to the direct necessity either of surrendering the whole of the creation to the government and sovereignty of this Satan, or of capitulating for its redemption by coming down upon earth, and exhibiting himself upon a cross in the shape of a man. Had the inventors of this story told it the contrary way, that is, had they represented the Almighty as compelling Satan to ex- hibit himself on a cross, in the shape of a snake, as a punishment for his new transgression, the story would have been less absurd — less contradictory. But, instead of this, they make the transgressor triumph, and the Almighty fall. That many good men have believed this strange fable, and lived very good lives under that belief (for credulity is not a crime) is what I have no doubt of. In the first place, they were educated to believe it, and they would have believed any thing else in the same manner. There are also many who have been so enthusi- astically enraptured by what they conceived to be the infinite lovo of God to man, in making a sacrifice of himself, that the vehe- mence of the idea has forbidden and deterred them from examin- ing into the absurdity and profaneness of the story. The moro unnatural any thing is, the more is it capable of becoming the ob- ject of dismal admiration. But if objects for gratitude and admiration are our desire, do they not present themselves every hour to our eyes 1 Do we not see a fair creation prepared to receive us the instant we are born — a world furnished to our hands, that cost us nothing? Is it we that light up the sun, that pour down the rain, and fill the earth with abundance ? Whether we sleep or wake, the vast machinery of the universe still goes on. Are these things, and the blessings they indicate in future, nothing to us 1 Can our gross feelings be excited by no other subjects than tragedy and suicide ? Or is the gloomy pride of man become so intolerable, that nothing can flatter it but a sacrifice of the Creator ? 20 THE AGE OF REASO:?. [PAIIT I. I know that this bold investigation will alarm many, but it would be paying too great a compliment to their credulity to for- bear it upon that account ; the times and the subject demand it to be done. The suspicion that the theory of what is called the Christian church is fabulous, is becoming very extensive m all countries; and it will be a consolation to men staggering under that suspicion, and doubting what to believe and what to disbe- lieve, to see the subject freely investigated. I therefore pass on to an examination of the books called the Old and New Testament. These books, beginning with Genesis and ending with Revela- tion, (which, by the bye, is a book of riddles that requires a revela- tion to explain it) are, we are told, the word of God. It is, there- fore, proper for us to know who told us so, that we may know what credit to give to the report. The answer to this question is, that nobody can tell, except that we tell one another so. The case, however, historically appears to be as follows : — When the church Mythologists established their system, they collected all the writings they could find, and managed them as ihey pleased. It is a matter altogether of uncertainty to us whether such of the writings as now appear under the name of the Old and New Testament, are in the same state in which those collectors say they found them, or whether they added, altered, abridged, or dressed them up. Be this as it may, they decided by vote which of the books out of the collection they had made, should be the word of god, and which should not. They rejected several ; they voted others to be doubtful, such as the books called the Apocrypha ; and those books which had a majority of votes, were voted to be the word of God. Had they voted otherwise, all the people, since calling themselves Christians, had believed otherwise — for the belief of the one comes from the vote of the other. Who the people were that did all this, we know nothing of, they called themselves by the general name of the Church ; and this is all we know of the matv^r. As we have no other external evidence or authority for believ- ing these books to be the word of God, than what I have men- tioned, which is no evidence or authority a all, I come, in the next place, to examine the internal evidence contained in U>« books themselves. DART I.] THE AGE OF REASON. 911 In the former part of this Essay, I have spoken of revelation.— I now proceed further with that subject, for the purpose of applying it to the books in question. Revelation is a communication of something, which the person, to whom that thing is revealed, did not know before. For if I have done a thing, or seen it done, it needs no revelation to tell me I have done it, or seen it, nor to enable me to tell it, or to write it. . Revelation, therefore, cannot be applied to any thing done upon earth, of which man is himself the actor or the witness ; and consequently all the historical and anecdotal part of the Bible, which is almost the whole of it, is not within the meaning and compass of the word revelation, and, therefore, is not the word of God. When Sampson ran off with the gate-posts of Gaza, if he ever did so, (and whether he did or not is nothing to us,) or when he visited his Delilah, or caught his foxes, or did any thing else, what has revelation to do with these things ? If they were facts, he could tell them himself; or his secretary, if he kept one, could write them, if they Mere worth either telling or writing ; and if they were fictions, revelation could not make them true ; and whether true or not, we are neither the better nor the wiser for knowing them. When we contemplate the immensity of that Being, who directs and governs the incomprehensible whole, of which the utmost ken of human sight can discover but a part, we ought to feel shame at calling such paltry stories the word of God. As to the account of the Creation, with which the book of Genesis opens, it has all the appearance of being a tradition which the Israelites had among them before they came into Egypt ; and after their departure from that country, they put it at the head of their history, without telling (as it is most probable) that they did not know how they came by it. The manner in which the account opens, shows it to be traditionary. It begins abruptly : it is no- body that speaks ; it is nobody that hears ; it is addressed to no- body ; it has neither first, second, or third person ; it has every criterion of being a tradition, it has no voucher. Moses does not take it upon himself by introducing it with the formality that he 22 THE AGE OF REA30N. f PART I. uses on other occasions, such as that of saying, Tlie Lord spaJce unto JMoses, saying. ^^ "Why it has been called the Mosaic account of the Creation, I am at a loss to conceive. Moses, I believe, was too good a judge of such subjects to put his name to that account. He had been educated among the Egyptians, who were a people as well skilled in science, and particularly in astronomy, as any people of their day ; and the silence and caution that Moses observes in not authenticating the account, is a good negative evidence that he neither told it nor believed it. — The case is, that every nation of people has been world-makers, and the Israelites had as much right to set up the trade of world-making as any of the rest; and as Moses was not an Israelite, he might not choose to contradict the tradition. The account, however, is harmless ; and this is more than can be said of many other parts of the Bible. "Whenever we read the obscene stories, the voluptuous de- baucheries, the cruel and torturous executions, the unrelenting vindictiveness, with which more than half the Bible is filled, it would be more consistent that we called it the word of a demon, than the word of God. It is a history of wickedness, that has served to corrupt and brutalize mankind ; and, for my own part, I sincerely detest it, as I detest every thing that is cruel. We scarcely meet with any thing, a few phrases excepted, but what deserves either our abhorence or our contempt, till we come to the miscellaneous parts of the Bible. In the anonymous pub- lications, the Psalms, and the Book of Job, more particularly in the latter, we find a great deal of elevated sentiment reverentially expressed of the power and benignity of the Almighty; but they stand on no higher rank than many other compositions on similar subjects, as well before that time as since. The Proverbs which are said to be Solomon's, though most probably a collection, (because they discover a knowledge of life, which his situation excluded him from knowing) are an instructive table of ethics. They are inferior in keenness to the proverbs of the Spaniards, and not more wise and economical than those of the American Franklin. All the remaining parts of the Bible, generally known by the name of the Prophets, are the works of the JeAvish poets and itinerant preachers, who mixed poetry, anecdote, and devotion FART l.J THE AGE OF REASON. 23 together — and those works still retain the air and style of poetry, though in translation.* There is not, throughout the whole book called the Bible, any word that describes to us what we call a poet, nor any word that describes what we call poetry. The case is, that the word pro- phet, to which latter times have affixed a new idea, was the Bible word for poet, and the word prophesying meant the art of making poetry. It also meant the art of playing poetry to a tune upon any instrument of music. We read of prophesying with pipes, tabrets, and horns — of prophesying with harps, with psalteries, with cymbals, and with every other instrument of music then in fashion. Were we now to speak of prophesying with a fiddle, or with a pipe and tabor, the expression would have no meaning, or would appear ridiculous, and to some people contemptuous, because we have changed the meaning of the word. We are told of Saul being among the prophets, and also that he prophesied ; but we are not told what they prophesied, nor what he prophesied. The case is, there was nothing to tell ; for these prophets were a company of musicians and poets, and Saul joined in the concert, and this was called prophesying. * As there are many readers who do not see that a composition is poetry, unless it be in rhyme, it is for their information that I add this note. Poetry consists principally in two things — imagery and composition. The composition of poetry differs from that of prose in the manner of mixing long and short syllables together. Take a long syllable out of a line of poetry, and put a short one in the room of it, or put a long syllable where a short one should be, and that hne will lose its poetical harmony. It will have an effect upon the line like that of misplacing a note in a song. The imagery in those books, called the prophets, appertains altogether to poetry. It is nctitious, and often extravagant, and not admissible in any other kind of writing than poetry. To show that these writings are composed in poetical numbers, I will take ten syllables, as they stand in the book, and make a line of the same number of syllables (heroic measure) that shall rhyme with the last word. It will then be seen that the composition of those books is poetical measui-e. The instance I shall produce is from Isaiah : — " Hear, O ye heavens, and give ear, earth /" 'Tis God himself that calls attention forth. Another instance I shall quote is from the mournful Jeremiah, to which shall add two other lines, for the purpose of carrying out the ■howing tlie intention of the poet. " ! that mine head were waters and mine eyes" "Were fountains flowing like the liquid skies ; Then would I give the mighty flood release, And weep a deluge for the human race. 24 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART I. The account given of this affair in the book called Samuel, is, that Saul met a company of prophets : a whole company of them ! coming down with a psaltery, a tabret, a pipe, and a harp, and that they prophesied, and that he prophesied with them. But it appears afterwards, that Saul prophesied badly ; that is, per- formed his part badly ; for it is said, that, an " evil spirit from God'^* came upon Saul, and he prophesied. Now, were there no other passage in the book called the Bible, than this, to demonstrate to us that we have lost the original meaning of the word prophesy, and substituted another meaning in its place, this alone would be sufficient ; for it is impossible to use and apply the word prophesy, in the place it is here used and applied, if we give to it the sense which latter times have affixed 10 it. The manner in which it is here used strips it of all religious meaning, and shows that a man might then be a prophet, or he might prophesy, as he may now be a poet or musician, without any regard to the morality or immorality of his character. The word was originally a term of science, promiscuously applied to poetry and to music, and not restricted to any subject upon which poetry and music might be exercised. Deborah and Barak are called prophets, not because they pre* dieted any thing, but because they composed the poem or song that bears their name, in celebration of an act already done. David is ranked among the prophets, for he was a musician, and was also reputed to be (though perhaps very erroneously) the author of the Psalms. But Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob are not called prophets ; it does not appear from any accounts we have, that they could either sing, play music, or make poetry. We are told of the greater and the lesser prophets. They might as well tell us of the greater and the lesser God ; for there cannot be degrees in prophesying consistently with its modern sense. — But there are degrees in poetry, and therefore the phrase is recon- cileable to the case, when we understand by it the greater and the lesser poets. It is altogether unnecessary, after this, to offer any observations upon what those men, styled prophets, have written. The axe goes at once to the root, by showing that the original meaning of * As those men who call themselves divines and commentators, are very fiVnd of puzzling one another, I leave them to contest the meaning of the first prtTt of the phrase, that of an evil spirit of God. I keep to my text — I keep to Ihe meaning of the word prophesy. PART I.] THE AGE OF REASON. 25 the word has been mistaken, and consequently all the inferences that have been drawn from those books, the devotional respect that has been paid to them, and the laboured commentaries that have been written upon them, under that mistaken meaning, are not worth disputing about. In many things, however, the wri- tings of the Jewish poets deserve a better fate than that of being bound up, as they now are, with the trash that accompanies them, under the abused name of the word of God. If we permit ourselves to conceive right ideas of things, we must necessarily affix the idea, not only of unchangeableness, but of the utter impossibility of any change taking place, by any means or accident whatever, in that \\ Inch we would honour with the name of the word of God ; and therefore the word of God cannot exist in any written or human language. Tlie continually progressive change to which the meaning of words is subject, the want of an universal language which renders translation necessary, the errors to which translations are again subject, the mistakes of copyists and printers, together with the possibility of wilful alteration, are of themselves evidences that the human language, whether in speech or in print, cannot be the vehicle of the word of God. The word of God exists in some- thing else. Did the book, called the Bible, excel in purity of ideas and expression all the books now extant in the world, I wouM not take it for my rule of faith, as being the word of God, because the possibility would nevertheless exist of my being imposed upon. But when I see throughout the greatest part of this book, scarcely any thing but a history of the grossest vices, and a collection of the most paltry and contemptible tales, I cannot dishonor my Creator by calling it by his name. Thus much for the Bible ; I now go on to the book called the New Testament. The JVeio Testament ! that is, the new will, as if there could be two wills of the Creator. Had it been the object or the intention of Jesus Christ to estab lish a new religion, he would undoubtedly have written the system himself, or procured it to be writlen in his life time. But there is no pubUcation extant authenticated Avith his name. All the books called the New Testament were written after his death. He was a Jew by birth and by profession : and he was the son of God in 4 26 THE AGE or REASON. [PART I. like manner that every other person is — for the Creator is tho Father of All. The first four books, called Mathew, Mark, Luke, and John, do not give a history of the life of Jesus Christ, but only detached anecdotes of him. It appears from these books, that the whole time of his being a preacher was not more than eighteen months ; and it was only during this short time, that those men became ac- quainted with him. They make mention of him at the age of twelve years, sitting, they say, among the Jewish doctors, asking and answering them questions. As this was several years before their acquamtance with him began, it is most probable they had this anecdote from his parents. From this time there is no account of him for about sixteen years. "Where he lived, or how he em- ployed himself during this interval, is not known. Most probably he was working at his father's trade, which was that of a car- penter. It does not apoear that he had any school education, and the probability is, that he could not write, for his parents were extremely poor, as appears from their not being able to pay for a bed when he was born. It is somewhat curious that the three persons whose names are the most universally recorded, were of very obscure parentage. Moses was a foundling ; Jesus Christ was born in a stable ; and Mahomet was a mule driver. The first and the last of these men were founders of different systems of religion ; but Jesus Chris* 'ounded no new system. He called men to the practice of mors* virtues, and the belief of one God. The great trait in his rha racter is philanthropy. The manner in which he was apprehended, shows that he wuo- not much known at that time ; and it shows also, that the meetings he then held with his followers were in secret ; and that he had given over or suspended preaching publicly. Judas could no other wise betray him than by giving information where he was, and pointing him out to the officers that went to arrest him ; and the reason for employing and paying Judas to do this could arise only from the cause already mentioned, that of his not being much known, and living concealed. The idea of his concealment, not only agrees very ill with his reputed divinity, but associates with it something of pusillanimity : and his being betrayed, or in other words, his being apprehended, on the information of. one of his followers, shows that he did not PART I.] THE AGE OF REASON. 27 intend to be apprehended, and consequently that he did not intend to be crucified. The Christian Mythologists tell us, that Christ died for the sins of the world, and that he came on purpose to die. Would it not then have been the same if he had died of a fever, or of the small pox, of old age, or of any thing else ? The declaratory sentence which, they say, was passed upon Adam, in case he eat of the apple, was not, that thou shall surely be crucified, but, thou shall surely die — the sentence of death, and not the manner of dying. Crucifixion, therefore, or any other particular manner of dying, made no part of the sentence that Adam was to sufler, and consequently, even upon their own tac- tics, it could make no part of the sentence that Christ was to suffer in the room of Adam. A fever would have done as well as a cross, if there was any occasion for either. The sentence of death, which they tell us, was thus passed upon Adam, must either have meant dying naturally, that is, ceasing to live, or have meant what these Mythologists call damnation ; and consequently, the act of dying on the part of Jesus Christ, must according to their system, apply as a prevention to one or other of these two things happening to Adam and to us. That it does not prevent our dying is evident, because we all die ; and if their accounts of longevity be true, men die faster since the crucifixion than before ; and with respect to the second ex- planation, (including with it the natural death of Jesus Christ as a substitute for the eternal death or damnation of all mankind,) it is impertinently representing the Creator as corning off, or revoking the sentence, by a pun or a quibble upon the word death. That manufacturer of quibbles, St. Paul, if he wrote the books that bear his name, has helped this quibble on by making another quibble upon the word Adam. He makes there to be two Adams ; the one who sins in fact, and suffers by proxy ; the other who sins by proxy, and suffers in fact. A religion thus interlarded with quibble, subterfuge, and pun, has a tendency to instruct its pro- fessors in the practice of these arts. They acquire the habit without being aware of the cause. If Jesus Christ was the being which those Mythologists tell us he was, and that he came into this world to suffer, which is a word they sometimes use instead of to die, the only real suffering ha could have endured, would have been to live. His existence hero 28 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART I was a state of exilement or transportation from Heaven, and the way back to his original country was to die. — In fine, every thing in this strange system is the reverse of what it pretends to be. It is the reverse of truth, and I become so tired of examining into its mconsistencies and absurdities, that I hasten to the conclusion of it, in order to proceed to something better. How much, or what parts of the books called the New Testa- ment, were written by the persons whose names they bear, is what we can know nothing of, neither are we certain in what language they were originally written. The matters they now contain may be classed under two heads — anecdote and epistolary correspon- dence. The four books already mentioned, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, are altogether anecdotal. They relate events after they had taken place. They tell what Jesus Christ did and said, and what others did and said to him ; and in several instances they relate the same event differently. Revelation is necessarily out of the question with respect to those books; not only because of the disagreement of the writers, but because revelation cannot be applied to the relating of facts by the persons who saw them done, nor to the relating or recording of any discourse or conversation by those who heard it. The book called the Acts of the Apostles (an anonymous work) belongs also to the anecdotal part. All the other parts of the New Testament, except the book of enigmas, called the Revelations, are a collection of letters under the name of epistles ; and the forgery of letters has been such a common practice in the world, that the probability is at least equal, whether they are genuine or forged. One thing, however, is much less equivocal, which is, that out of the matters contained in those books, together with the assistance of some old stories, the church has set up a system of religion very contradictory to the character of the person whose name it bears. It has set up a religion of pomp and of revenue, in pretended imitation of a per- son whose life was humility and poverty. The invention of purgatory, and of the releasing of souls there- from, by prayers, bought of the church with money ; the selling of pardons, dispensations and indulgencies, are revenue laws, with- out bearing that name or carrying that appearance. But the case nevertheless is, that those things derive their origin from the paroxysm of the crucifixion and the theory deduced therefrom »ABT 1.] THE AOE OF REASON. £9 which was, that one person could stand in the place of another, and could perform meritorious services for him. The probability, therefore, is, that the whole theory or doctrine of what is called the redemption (which is said to have been accomplished by the act of one person in the room of another) was originally fabricated on purpose to bring forward and build all those secondary and pecuniary redemptions upon ; and that the passages in the books upon which the idea of theory of redemption is built, have been manufactured and fabricated for that purpose. "VYhy are we to give this church credit, when she tells us that those books are genuine in every part, any more than we give her credit for every thing else she has told us ; or for the miracles she says she has performed 1 That she could fabricate writings is certain, because she could write ; and the composition of the writings in question, is of that kind that any body might do it ; and that she did fabricate them is not more inconsistent with probability, than that she should tell us, as she has done, that she could and did work miracles. Since, then, no external evidence can, at this long distance of time, be produced to prove whether the church fabricated the doc- trines called redemption or not, (for such evidence, whether for or against, would be subject to the same suspicion of being fabrica- ted,) the case can only be referred to the internal evidence which the thing carries within itself ; and this affords a very strong pre- sumption of its being a fabrication. For the internal evidence is, that the theory or doctrine of redemption has for its basis an idea of pecuniary justice, and not that of moral justice. If I owe a person money, and cannot pay him, and he threatens to put me in prison, another person can take the debt upon him- self, and pay it for me ; but if I have committed a crime, every circumstance of the case is changed ; moral justice cannot take the innocent for the guilty, even if the innocent would offer itself. To suppose justice to do this, is to destroy the principle of its existence, which is the thing itself; it is then no longer justice ; it is indiscriminate revenge. This single reflection will show that the doctrine of redemption is founded on a mere pecuniary idea, corresponding to that of a debt, which another person might pay ; and as this pecuniary idea corresponds again with the system of second redemptions, ob- tained through the means of money given to the church for 30 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART I. pardons, the probability is, that the same persons fabricated both one and the other of those theories ; and that, in truth, there is no such thing as redemption ; that it is fabulous, and that man stands in the same relative condition with his Maker he ever did stand, since man existed, and that it is his greatest consolation to think so. Let him believe this, and he will live more consistently and morally, than by any other system ; it is by his being taught to contemplate himself as an out-law, as an out-cast, as a beggar, as a mumper, as one thrown, as it were, on a dunghill, at an immense distance from his Creator, and who must make his approaches by creeping and cringing to intermediate beings, that he conceives either a contemptuous disregard for every thing under the name of religion, or becomes indifferent, or turns, what he calls, devout. In the latter case, he consumes his life in grief, or the affectation of it ; his prayers are reproaches ; his humiUty is ingratitude ; he calls himself a worm, and the fertile earth a dunghill ; and all the blessings of life, by the thankless name of vanities ; be despises the choicest gift of God to man, the gift of reason; and having endeavoured to force upon himself the belief of a system against which reason revolts, he ungratefully calls it human reason, as if man could give reason to himself. Yet, with all this strange appearance of humility, and this con- tempt for human reason, he ventures into the boldest presump- tions; he finds fault with every thing; his selfishness is nevei satisfied ; his ingratitude is never at an end. He takes on him- self to direct the Almighty what t-^ do, even in the government of the universe ; he prays dicta^orially ; when it is sun-shine, he prays for rain, and when it is rain, he prays for sun-shine ; he follows the same idea in every thing that he prays for ; for what is the amount of all his prayers, but an attempt to make the Almighty change his mind, and act otherwise than he does ? It is as if he were to say — thou knowest not so well as I. But some perhaps will say — Are we to have no word of God — no revelation ! I answer, Yes : there is a word of God ; there is a revelation. The word of God is the creation we behold : And it is in this njorrf, which no human invention can counterfeit or alter, that God speaketh universally to man. PART 1. I THE AGE OF REASON. 31 Human language is local and changeable, and is therefore inca- pable of being used as the means of unchangeable and universal information. The idea that God sent Jesus Christ to publish, as they say, the glad tidings to all nations, from one end of the earth to the other, is consistent only with the ignorance of those who knew nothing of the extent of the world, and who believed, as those world-saviours believed, and continued to believe, for seve- ral centuries, (and that in contradiction to the discoveries of phi- losophers and the experience of navigators,) that the earth was flat like a trencher ; and that a man might walk to the end of it. But how was Jesus Christ to make any thing known to all na- tions 1 He could speak but one language, which was Hebrew ; and there are in the world several hundred languages. Scarcely any two nations speak the same language, or understand each other ; and as to translations, every man who knows any thing of languages, knows that it was impossible to translate from one lan- guage to another, not only without losing a great part of the ori- ginal, but frequently of mistaking the sense ; and besides all this, the art of printing was wholly unknown at the time Christ lived. It is always necessary that the means that are to accomplish any end, be equal to the accomplishment of that end, or the end can- not be accomplished. It is in this, that the difference between finite and infinite power and wisdom discovers itself. Man fre- quently fails in accomplishing his ends, from a natural inability of the power to the purpose ; and frequently from the want of wis- dom to apply power properly. But it is impossible for infinite power and wisdom to fail as man faileth. The means it useth are always equal to the end ; but human language, more especially as there is not an universal language, is incapable of being used as an universal means of unchangeable and uniform information, and therefore it is not the means that God useth in manifesting himself universally to man. It is only in the creation that all our ideas and conceptions of a icord of God can unite. The Creation speaketh an universal language, independently of human speech or human language, multiplied and various as they be. It is an ever-existing original, which every man can read. It cannot be forged ; it cannot be counterfeited ; it cannot be lost ; it cannot be altered ; it cannot be suppressed. It does not depend upon the will of man whether it shall be published or not ; it publishes itself from one end of the 32 THE AGE OP REASON. [PART I. earth to the other. It preaches to all nations and to all worlds ; and this word of God reveals to man all that is necessary for man to know of God. Do we want to contemplate his power 1 We see it in the im- mensity of the Creation. Do we wait to contemplate his wis- dom ] We see it in the unchangeable order by which the incom- prehensible whole is governed. Do we want to contemplate his munificence ? We see it in the abundance with which he fdls the earth. Do we want to contemplate his mercy ? We see it in his not withholding that abundance even from the unthankful. In fine, do we want to know what God is ? Search not the book called the Scripture, which any human hand might make, but the Scripture called the Creation. The only idea man can affix to the name of God, is that of a first cause, the cause of all things. And, incomprehensible and difficult as it is for a man to conceive what a first cause is, he ar- rives at the belief of it, from the tenfold greater difficulty of disbe- lieving it. It is difficult beyond description to conceive that space can have no end ; but it is more difficult to conceive an end. It IS difficult beyond the power of man to conceive an eternal dura- tion of what we call time ; but it is more impossible to conceive a time when there shall be no time. In like manner of reasoning, every thing we behold carries ie itself the internal evidence that it did not make itself. Every man is an evidence to himself, that he did not make himself; neither could his father make himself, nor his grandfather, nor any of his race ; neither could any tree, plant, or animal make itself; and it is the conviction arising from this evidence, that carries us on, as it were, by necessity, to the belief of a first cause eternally existing, of a nature totally diflTerent to any material existence we know of, and by the power of which all things exist ; and this first cause man calls God. It is only by the exercise of reason, that man can discover God. Take away that reason, and he would be incapable oif understanding any thing ; and, in this case it would be just as consistent to read even the book called the Bible to a horse as to a man. How then is it that those people pretend to reject reason ? Almost the only parts in the book called the Bible, that convey to us any idea of God, are some chapters in Job, and the 1 9th fART I.] THE AGE OF REASON. 38 Psalm ; I recollect no other. Those parts are true deistical com- positions ; for they treat of the Deity through his works. They take the book of Creation as the word of God, they refer to no other book, and all the inferences they make are drawn from that volume. I insert, in this place, the 19th Psalm, as paraphrased into Eng- lish verse by Addison. I recollect not the prose, and where I write this I have not the opportunity of seeing it. The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue etherial sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great original proclaim. The unwearied sun, from day to day, Does his Creator's power display ; And publishes to every land, The work of an Almighty hand. Soon as the evening shades prevail The moon takes up the wondrous tale. And nightly to the listning earth, Repeats the story of her birth ; Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets, in their turn. Confirm the tidings as they roll. And spread the truth from pole to pole. What though in solemn silence all Move round this dark terrestrial ball ; What though no real voice, nor sound. Amidst their radient orbs be found. In reason's ear they all rejoice. And utter forth a glorious voice, For ever singing as they shine, The hand that made vs is divine. What more does man want to know, than that the hand or power, that made these things is divine, is omnipotent? Let him believe this with the force it is impossible to repel, if he permits his reason to act, and his rule of moral life will follow of course. The allusions in Job have all of them the same tendency with this Fsalm ; that of deducing or proving a truth that would be otherwise unknown, from truths already known. I recollect not enough of the passages in Job, to insert them correctly : but there is one occurs to me that is applicable to the subject I am speaking upon. " Canst thou by searching find out God ? Canst thou find out the Almighty to perfection V* 5 84 THE AGE OP REASON. [PART I. I know not how the printers have pointed this passage, for I keep no Bible ; but it contains two distinct questions, that admit of distinct answers. First — Canst thou by searching find out God 1 Yes ; because in the first place, I know I did not make myself, and yet I have existence ; and by searching into the nature of other things, I find that no other thing could make itself; and yet millions of other things exist ; therefore it is, that I know, by positive con- clusion resulting from this search, that there is a power superior to all those things, and that power is God. Secondly — Canst thou find out the Almighty to perfection ? No ; not only because the power and wisdom He has manifested in the structure of the Creation that I behold is to me incompre- hensible, but because even this manifestation, great as it is, is probably but a small display of that immensity of power and wis- dom, by which millions of other worlds, to me invisible by their distance, were created and continue to exist. It is evident that both of these questions are put to the reason of the person to whom they are supposed to have been addressed; and it is only by admitting the first question to be answered affirmatively, that the second could follow. It would have been unnecessary, and even absurd, to have put a second question more difficult than the first, if the first question had been answered negatively. The two questions have different objects ; the first refers to the existence of God, the second to his attributes ; reason can discover the one, but it falls infinitely short in dis- covering the whole of the other. I recollect not a single passage in all the writings ascribed to the men called apostles, that convey any idea of what God is. Those writings are chiefly controversial ; and the subject they dwell upon, that of a man dying in agony on a cross, is better suited to the gloomy genius of a monk in a cell, by whom it is not impossible they were written, than to aijy man breathing the open air of the Creation. The only passage that occurs to me, that has any reference to the works of God, by which only his power and wisdom can be known, is related to have been spoken by Jesus Christ, as a remedy against distrustful care. '* Behold the lilies of the field, they toil not, neither do they spin." This, however, is far inferior to the allusions in Job and in the 19th Psalm ; but JART I.] THE AGE OF REASON. 35 it is similar in idea, and the modesty of the imagery is correspon- dent to the modesty of the man. As to the Christian system of faith, it appears to me as a species of atheism — a sort of rehgious denial of God. It professes to be- lieve in a man rather than in God. It is a compound made up chiefly of manism with but little deism, and is as near to atheism as twilight is to darkness. It introduces between man and his Maker an opaque body, which it calls a Redeemer, as the moon introduces her opaque self between the earth and the sun, and it produces by this means a religious or an irreligious eclipse of light. It has put the whole orbit of reason into shade. The cflTect of this obscurity has been that of turning every thing upside down, and representing it in reverse ; and among the re- volutions it has thus magically produced, it has made a revolution in Theology. That which is now called natural philosophy, embracing the whole circle of science, of which Astronomy occupies the chief place, is the study of the works of God, and of the power and wis- dom of God in his works, and is the true theology. As to the theology that is now studied in its place, it is the study of human opinions, and of human fancies concerning God. It is not the study of God himself in the works that he has made, but in the works or writings that man has made ; and it is not among the least of the mischiefs that the Christian system has done to the world, that it has abandoned the original and beautiful system of theology, like a beautiful innocent, to distress and re proach, to make room for the hag of superstition. The book of Job, and the 19th Psalm, which even the church admits to be more ancient than the chronological order in which they stand in the book called the Bible, are theological orations conformable to the original system of theology. The internal evidence of those orations proves to a demonstration that the study and contemplation of the works of Creation, and of the power and wisdom of God, revealed and manifested in those works, made a great part of the religious devotion of the times in which they were written ; and it was this devotional study and contemplation that led to the discovery of the principles upon which, what are now called Sciences, are established ; and it is to the discovery of these principles that almost all the Arts that con- oibute to the convenience of human life, owe their existence. 36 THE AGE OF REASON. [pART I^ Every pnncipal art has some science for its parent, though the person who mechanically performs the work does not always, and but very seldom, perceive the connexion. It is a fraud of the Christian system to call the sciences human invention ; it »s only the application of them that is human. Every science has for its basis a system of principles as fixed and unal- terable as those by which the universe is regulated and governed. Man cannot make principles, he can only discover them. For example — Every person who looks at an Almanack sees an account when an eclipse will take place, and he sees also that it never fails to take place according to the account there given. This shows that man is acquainted with the laws by which the heavenly bodies move. But it would be something worse than ignorance, were any church on earth to say, that those laws are a human invention. It would also be ignorance, or something worse, to say that the scientific principles, by the aid of which man is enabled to calculate and foreknow when an eclipse will take place, are a human invention. Man cannot invent and thing that is eternal and immutable ; and the scientific principles he employs for this purpose must, and are, of necessity, as eternal and immutable as the laws by which the heavenly bodies move, or they could not be used as they are to ascertain the time when, and the manner how, an eclipse will take place. The scientific principles that man employs to obtain the fore- knowledge of an eclipse, or of any thing else, relating to the mo- tion of the heavenly bodies, are contained chiefly in that part of sci- ence which is called Trigonometry, or the properties of a triangle, which when applied to the study of the heavenly bodies, is called Astronomy ; when applied to direct the course of a ship on the ocean, it is called Navigation ; when applied to the construction of figures drawn by rule and compass, it is called Geometry ; when applied to the construction of plans of edifices, it is called Archi- tecture ; when applied to the measurement of any portion of the surface of the earth, it is called Land-surveying. In fine, it is the soul of science ; it is an eternal truth ; it contains the mathc' matical demonstration of which man speaks, and the extent of its uses is unknown. It may be said, that man can make or draw a triangle, and there- fore a triangle is an human invention PART I.] THE AGE OF REASON. 37 But the triangle, when drawn, is no other than the image of the principle ; it is a delineation to the eye, and from thence to the mind, of a principle that would otherwise be imperceptible. The triangle does not make the principle, any more than a candle taken into a room that was dark, makes the chairs and tables that before were invisible. All the properties of a triangle exist inde- pendently of the figure, and existed before any triangle was drawn or thought of by man. Man had no more to do in the formation of those properties or principles, than he had to do in making the laws by which the heavenly bodies move ; and therefore the one must have the same divine origin as the other. In the same manner as it may be said, that man can make a triangle, so also may it be said, he can make the mechanical in- strument called a lever; but the principle, by which the lever acts IS a thing distinct from the instrument, and would exist if the in- strument did not : it attaches itself to the instrument after it is made ; the instrument, therefore, can act no otherwise than it does act ; neither can all the efforts of human invention make it act otherwise — that which, in all such cases, man calls the effect^ is no other than the principle itself rendered perceptible to the Since then man cannot make principles, from whence did he gain a knowledge of them, so as to be able to apply them, not only to things on earth, but to ascertain the motion of bodies so immensely distant from him as all the heavenly bodies are? From whence, I ask, could he gain that knowledge, but from the study of the true theology ? It is the structure of the universe that has taught this know- ledge to man. That structure is an ever-existing exhibition of every principle upon which every part of mathematical science is founded. The offspring of this science is mechanics ; for me chanics is no other than the principles of science applied practi- cally. The man who proportions the several parts of a mill, uses the same scientific principles, as if he had the power of construct- ing an universe ; but as he cannot give to matter that invisible agency, by which all the components parts of the immense ma- chine of the universe have influenced upon each other and act in motional unison together, without any apparent contact, and to which man has given the name of attraction, gravitation, and re- pulsion, he supplies the place of that agency by the humble imi 38 THE AGE OP REASON. [PART I. tation of teeth and cogs- — All the parts of man's microcosm mu9t visibly touch : but could he gain a knowledge of that agency, so as to be able to apply it in practice, we might then say, that ano- ther canonical book of the word of God had been discovered. If man could alter the properties of the lever, so also could he alter the properties of the triangle : for a lever (taking that sort of lever which is called a steel-yard, for the sake of explanation) forms, when in motion, a triangle. The line it descends from, (one point of that line being in the fulcrum,) the line it descends to, and the cord of the arc, which the end of the lever describes in the air, are the three sides of a triangle. The other arm of the lever describes also a triangle ; and the corresponding sides of those two triangles, calculated scientifically, or measured geome- trically : and also the sines, tangents, and secants generated from the angles, and geometrically measured, have the same proportions to each other, as the different weights have that will balance each other on the lever, leaving the weight of the lever out of the case It may also be said, that man can make a wheel and axis , that he can put wheels of different magnitudes together, and pro duce a mill. Still the case comes back to the same point, which is, that he did not make the principle that gives the wheels those powers. That principle is as unalterable as in the former case, or rather it is the same principle under a different appearance to the eye. The power that two wheels, of different magnitudes, have upon each other, is in the same proportion as if the semi-diameter of the two wheels were joined together and made into that kind of lever I have described, suspended at the part where the semi-diameters join ; for the two wheels, scientifically considered, are no other than the two circles generated by the motion of the compound lever. It is from the study of the true theology that all our knowledge of science is derived, and it is from that knowledge that all the arts have originated. The Almighty lecturer, by displaying the principles of science in the structure of the universe, has invited man to study and to imitation. It is as if he had said to the inhabitants of this globe, that we call ours, " I have made an earth for man to dwell upon, and I have rendered the starry heavens visible, to teach him science and the arts. He can now provide for his own comfort FART I.J THE AGE OF REASON. 39 AND LEARN FROM MY MUNIFCIENCE TO ALL, TO BE KIND TO EACH OTHER.'* Of what use is it, unless it be to teach man something, that his eye is endowed with the power of beholding, to an incomprehen- sible distance, an immensity of worlds revolving in the ocean of space ? Or of what u:«e .s it that this immensity of worlds is visi- ble to man ? What has man to do with the Pleiades, with Orion, with Sinus, with the star he calls the north star, with the moving orbs he has named Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Venus, and Mercury, if no uses are to follow from their being visible ? A less power of vision would have been sufficient for man, if the immensity he now possesses were given only to waste itself, as it were, on an immense desert of space glittering with shows. It is only by contemplating what he calls the starry heavens, as the book and school of science, that he discovers any use in their being visible to him, or any advantage resulting from his immen- sity of vision. But when he contemplates the subject in this light, he sees an additional motive for saying, that nothing was made in vain ; for in vain would be this power of vision if it taught man nothing. As the Christian system of faith has made a revolution in theo- logy, so also has it made a revolution in the state of learning. That which is now called learning, was not learning, originally. Learning does not consist, as the schools now make it consist, in the knowledge of languages, but in the knowledge of things to which language gives names. The Greeks were a learned people, but learnmg with them did not consist in speaking Greek, any more than in a Roman's speak- ing Latin, or a Frenchman's speaking French, or an Englishman's speaking English. From what we know of the Greeks, it does not appear that they knew or studied any language but their own, and this was one cause of their becoming so learned ; it afforded them more time to apply themselves to better studies. The schools of the Greeks were schools of science and philosophy, and not of languages ; and it is in the knowledge of the things that science and philosophy teach, that learning consists. Almost all the scientific learning that now exists, came to U3 from the Greeks, or the people who spoke the Greek language. — It, therefore, became necessary for the people of other nations, who spoke a different language, that some among them should 40 THE AGE OP REASON. [PART I. learn the Greek language, in order that the learning the Greeks had, might be made known in those nations, by translating the Greek books of science and philosophy into the mother tongue of each nation. The study, therefore, of the Greek language (and in the same manner for the Latin) was no other than the dmdgery business of a linguist ; and the language thus obtained, was no other than the means, as it were the tools, employed to oblain the learning the Greeks had. It made no part of the learning itself; and was so distinct from it, as to make it exceedingly probable that the per- sons who had studied Greek sufficiently to translate those works, such, for instance, as Euclid's Elements, did not understand any of the learning the works contained. As there is now nothing new to be learned from the dead lan- guages, all the useful books being already translated, the lan- guages are become useless, and the time expended in teaching and learning them is wasted. So far as the study of languages may contribute to the progress and communication of knowledge, (for it has nothing to do with the creation of knowledge,) it is only m the living languages that new knowledge is to be found ; and certain it is, that, in general, a youth will learn more of a living language in one year, than of a dead language in seven ; and it is but seldom that the teacher knows much of it himself. The diffi- culty of learning the dead languages does not arise from any supe- rior abstruseness in the languages themselves, but in their being dead, and the pronunciation entirely lost. It would be the same thing with any other language when it becomes dead. The best Greek linguist that now exists, does not understand GreeK so well as a Grecian ploughman did, or a Grecian milkmaid : and the same for the Latin, compared with a ploughman or milkmaid of the Romans ; it would therefore be advantageous to the state of learning to abolish the study of the dead languages, and to make learning consist, as it originally did, in scientific knowledge. The apology thai ^j? sometimes made for continuing to teach the dead languages is, thai they are taught at a time, when a child is not capable of exerting any other mental faculty than that of memory; but that is altogether erroneous. The human mind has a natural disposition to scientific knowledge, and to the things connected with it. The first and favourite amusement of a child, even before it begins to play, is that of imitating the works of maot PART I.] THE ACE OF REASON. 41 It builds houses with cards or sticks ; it navigates the little ocean of a bowl of water with a paper boat, or dams the stream of a gutter, and contrives something which it calls a mill ; and it in- terests itself in the fate of its works with a care that resembles affection. It afterwards goes to school, where its genius is killed by the barren study of a dead language, and the philosopher is lost in the linguist. But the apology that is now made for continuing to teach the dead languages, could not be the cause, at first, of cutting down learning to the narrow and humble sphere of linguistry ; the cause, therefore, must be sought for elsewhere. In all researches oi this kind, the best evidence that can be produced, is the internal evidence the thing carries with itself, and the evidence of cir- cumstances that unites with it ; both of which, in this case, are not difficult to be discovered. Putting then aside, as a matter of distinct consideration, the outrage offered to the moral justice of God, by supposing him to make the innocent suffer for the guilty, and also the loose mo- rality and low contrivance of supposing him to change himself into the shape of a man, in order to make an excuse to himself for not executing his supposed sentence upon Adam ; putting, I say, those things aside as matter of distinct consideration, it is certain that what is called the Christian system of faith, including in it the whimsical account of the creation — the strange story of Eve — the snake and the apple — the ambiguous idea of a man-god — the cor- poreal idea of the death of a god — the mythological idea of a family of gods, and the Christian system of arithmetic, that three are one, and one is three, are all irreconcilable, not only to the divine gift of reason, that God hath given to Man, but to the knowledge that man gains of the power and wisdom of God, by the aid of the sciences, and by studying the structure of the uni- verse that God has made. The setters-up, therefore, and the advocates of the Christian system of faith, could not but foresee that the continually progres- sive knowledge that man would gain, by the aid of science, of the power and wisdom of God, manifested in the structure of the uni- verse, and in all the works of Creation, would militate against, and call into question, the truth of their system of faith ; and therefore it became necessary to their purpose to cut learning down to a size less dangerous to their project, and this they 6 42 THE AGE OF REASON [PART 1. effected by restricting the idea of learning to the dead study ot dead languages. They not only rejected the study of science out of the Christian schools, but they persecuted it ; and it is only within about the last two centuries that the study has been revived. So late as 1610, Galileo, a Florentine, discovered and introduced the use of telescopes, and by applying them to observe the motions and appearance of the heavenly bodies, afforded additional means for ascertaining the true structure of the universe. Instead of being esteemed for those discoveries, he was sentenced to renounce them, or the opinions resulting from them, as a damnable heresy. And, prior to that time, Vigilius was condemned to be burned for asserting the antipodes, or in other words, that the earth was a globe, and habitable in every part where there was land ; yet the truth of this is now too well known even to be told. If the belief of errors not morally bad did no mischief, it would make no part of the moral duty of man to oppose and remove them. There was no moral ill in believing the earth was flat like a trencher, any more than there was moral virtue in believing that it was round like a globe ; neither was there any moral ill in believing that the Creator made no other world than this, any more than there was moral virtue in believing that he made millions, and that the infinity of space is filled with worlds. But when a system of religion is made to grow out of a supposed system of creation that is not true, and to unite itself therewith in a manner almost inseparable therefrom, the case assumes an en- tirely different ground. It is then that errors, not morally bad, become fraught with the same mischiefs as if they were. It is then that the truth, though otherwise indifferent itself, becomes an essential, by becoming the criterion, that either confirms by corresponding evidence, or denies by contradictory evidence, the reality of the religion itself. In this view of the case, it is the moral duty of man to obtain every possible evidence that the structure of the heavens, or any other part of creation affords, with respect to systems of religion. But this, the supporters or partizans of the Christian system, as if dreading the result, inces santly opposed, and not only rejected the sciences, but persecuted the professors. Had Newton or Descartes lived three or four hundred years ago, and pursued their studies as they did, it is most probable they would not have lived to finish them ; and had PART I.] THE AGE OF REASON. 43 Franklin drawn lightning from the clouds at the same time, it would have been at the hazard of expiring for it in flames. Later times have laid all the blame upon the Goths and Vandals ; but, however unwilling the partizans of the Christian system may be to believe or to acknowledge it, it is nevertheless true, that the age of ignorance commenced with the Christian system. — There was more knowledge in the world before that period, than for many centuries afterwards ; and as to religious knowledge, the Christian system, as already said, was only another species of mythology ; and the mythology to which it succeeded, was a cor- ruption of an ancient system of theism.* It is owing to this long interregnum of science, and to no other cause, that we have now to look through a vast chasm of many hundred years to the respectable characters we call the ancients. — Had the progression of knowledge gone on proportionably with the stock that before existed, that chasm would have been filled up with characters rising superior in knowledge to each other ; and those ancients we now so much admire, would have appeared respectably in the back ground of the scene. But the Christian system laid all waste ; and if we take our stand about the begin- ning of the sixteenth century, we look back through that long chasm, to the times of the ancients, as over a vast sandy desart, in which not a shrub appears to intercept the vision to the fertile hills beyond. * It is impossible for us now to know at what time the heathen mythology began ; but it is certain, from the internal evidence that it carries, that it did not begin in the same state or condition in which it ended. All the gods of that mythology, except Saturn, were of modern invention. The supposed reign of Saturn was prior to that which is called the heathen mythology, and was so far a species of theism, that it admitted the belief of only one God. Saturn is supposed to have abdicated the government in favorof his three sons and one daughter, Jupiter, Pluto, Neptune, and Juno ; after this, thousands of other gods and demi-gods were imagmarily created, and the calendar of gods increased as fast as the calendar of saints, and the calendars of courts hava increased since. All the corruptions that have taken place, in theology and in religion, have been produced by admitting of what man calls revealed religion. The Mytho- logists pretended to more revealed religion than the Christians do. They had their oracles and their priests, who were supposed to receive and deliver the word of God verbally, on almost all occasions. Since then all corruptions down from Molock to modem predestinarianism, and the human sacrifices of the heathens to the Christian sacrifice of the Crea- tor, have been produced by admitting of what is called revealed religion, the most effectual means to prevent all such evils and impositions is, not to admit of any other revelation Uian that which is manifested in the book of creation, and to contemplate the creation as the only true and real work of God that ever did, or ever will exist ; and that every thing else, called the word of God, is fable and imposition. 44 THE AGE OP REASON. [pART I. It is an inconsistency scarcely possible to be credited, that any thing should exist, under the name of a religion, that held it to be irreligious to study and contemplate the structure of the universe that God had made. But the fact is too well established to be denied. The event that served more than any other to break the first link in this long chain of despotic ignorance, is that known by the name of the Reformation by Luther. From that time, though it does not appear to have made any part of the intention of Luther, or of those who are called reformers, the sciences began to revive, and liberality, their natural associate, began to appear. This was the only public good the Reformation did ; for, with respect to religious good, it might as well not have taken place. The mythology still continued the same ; and a multiplicity of National Popes grew out of the downfall of the Pope of Christ- endom. Having thus shown from the internal evidence of things, the cause that produced a change in the state of learning, and the motive for substituting the study of dead languages, in the place of the sciences, I proceed, in addition to the several observations, already made in the former part of this work, to compare, or rather to confront the evidence that the structure of the universe affords, with the Christian system of religion ; but, as I cannot begin this part better than by referring to the ideas that occurred to me at an early part of life, and which I doubt not have occurred in some degree to almost every other person at one time or other, I shall state what those ideas were, and add thereto such other matter as shall arise out of the subject, giving to the whole, by way of preface, a short introduction. My father being of the Quaker profession, it was my good fortune to have an exceeding good moral education, and a tolera- ble stock of useful learning. Though I went to the grammar school,* I did not learn Latin, not only because I had no inclina- tion to learn languages, but because of the objection the Quakers have against the books in which the language is taught. But this did not prevent me from being acquainted with the subjects of all the Latin books used in the school. The natural bent of my mind was to science. I had some * The same school, Thetford in Norfolk, that the present Counsellor Min- gay went to, and under the same master. FART I.] THE AGE OF REASON. 45 turn, and I believe some talent for poetry ; but this I rather repressed than encouraged, as leading too much into the field of imagination. As soon as I was able, I purchased a pair of globes, and attended the philosophical lectures of Martin and Ferguson, and became afterwards acquainted with Dr. Bevis, of the society, called the Royal Society, then living in the Temple, and an excel- lent astronomer. I had no disposition for what is called politics. It presented to my mind no other idea than is contained in the woi ' Jockeyship When, therefore, I turned my thoughts towards matters of gov emment, I had to form a system for myself, that accorded with the moral and philosophic principles in which I had been educated. I saw or at least I thought I saw, a vast scene opening itself to the world in the affairs of America; and it appeared to me, that unless the Americans changed the plan they were then pursuing, with respect to the government of England, and declared them- selves independent, they would not only involve themselves in a multiplicity of new difficulties, but shut out the prospect that was then offering itself to mankind through their means. It was from these motives that I published the work known by the name of " Common Sense," which is the first work I ever did publish ; and so far as I can judge of myself, I believe I should never have been known in the world as an author, on any subject whatever, had it not been for the affairs of America. I wrote " Common Sense" the latter end of the year 1775, and published it the first of Janu- ary, 1776. Independence was declared the fourth of July fol- lowing. Any person, who has made observations on the state and pro- gress of the human mind, by observing his own, cannot but have observed, that there are two distinct classes of what are called Thoughts ; those that we produce in ourselves by reflection and the act of thinking, and those that bolt into the mind of their own accord. I have always made it a rule to treat those voluntary visitors with civility, taking care to examine, as well as I was able, if they were worth entertaining ; and it is from them I have acquired almost all the knowledge that I have. As to the learning that any person gains from school education, it serves only, like a small capital, to put him in the way of beginning learning for him- self afterwards. — Every person of learning is finally his own teacher, the reason of which is, that principles, being of a distinct 46 THE AGE OP REASON. [PART U quality to circumstances, cannot be impressed upon the memory • their place of mental residence is the understanding, and they are never so lasting as when they begin by conception. Thus much for the 'utroductory part. From the time I was capable of conceiving an idea, and actmg upon it by reflection, I either doubted the truth of the Christian system, or thought it to be a strange affair ; I scarcely knew which it was : but I well remember, when about seven or eight years of age, hearing a sermon read by a relation of mine, who was a great devotee of the church, upon the subject of what is called redemption bij the death of the Son of God. After the ser- mon was ended, I went into the garden, and as I was going down the garden steps (for I perfectly recollect the spot) I revolted at the recollection of what I had heard, and thought to myself that it was making God Almighty act like a passionate man, that killed his son, when he could not revenge himself any other way; and as I was sure a man would be hanged that did such a thing, I could not see for what purpose they preached such sermons. This was not one of those kind of thoughts that had any thing in it of childish levity ; it was to me a serious reflection, arising from the idea I had, that God was too good to do such an action, and also too almighty to be under any necessity of doing it. I believe in the same manner at this moment ; and I moreover believe, that any system of religion that has any thing in it that shocks the mind of a child, cannot be a true system. It seems as if parents of the Christian profession were ashamed to tell their children any thing about the principles of their religion. They sometimes instruct them in morals, and talk to them of the goodness of what they call Providence ; for the Christian my- thology has five deities — there is God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, the God Providence, and the Goddess Na- ture. But the Christian story of God the Father putting his son to death, or employing people to do it, (for that is the plain lan- guage of the story,) cannot be told by a parent to a child ; and to tell him that it was done to make mankind happier and better, is making the story still worse, as if mankind could be improved by the example of murder ; and to tell him that all this is a mystery, is only making an excuse for the mcredibility of it. How different is this to the pure and smple profession of Deism ! The true Deist has but one Deity and his religion PART 1.] THE AGE OP REASON. 47 consists in contemplating the power, wisdom, and benignity of the Deity in his works, and in endeavoring to imitate him in every thing moral, scientifical, and mechanical. The religion that approaches the nearest of all others to true Deism, in the moral and benign part thereof, is that professed by the Quakers : but they have contracted themselves too much, by leaving the works of God out of their system. Though I rever- ence their philanthropy, I cannot help smiling at the conceit, that if the taste of a Quaker could have been consulted at the creation, what a silent and drab-colored creation it would have been ! Not a flower would have blossomed its gaities, nor a bird been permit- ted to sing. Quitting these reflections, I proceed to other matters. After 1 had made myself master of the use of the globes, and of the or- rery,* and conceived an idea of the infinity of space, and the eter- nal divisibility of matter, and obtained, at least, a general know- ledge of what is called natural philosophy, I began to compare, or, as I have before said, to confront the eternal evidence those things afford with the Christian system of faith. Though it is not a direct article of the Christian system, that this world that we inhabit, is the whole of the habitable creation, yet it is so worked up therewith, from what is called the Mosaic account of the Creation, the story of Eve and the apple, and the counterpart of that story, the death of the Son of God, that to be- lieve otherwise, that is, to believe that God created a plurality ol worlds, at least as numerous as what we call stars, renders the Christian system of faith at once little and ridiculous, and scatters it in the mind like feathers in the air. The two beliefs cannot be held together in the same mind ; and he who thinks that he be- lieves both, has thought but little of either. Though the belief of a plurality of worlds was familar to the an cients, it is only within the last three centuries that the extent and dimensions of this globe that we inhabit have been ascertained.- -- * As this book may fall into the hands of persons who do not know what an orrery is, it is for their information I add this note, as the name gives no idea of the uses of the tiling. The orrery has its name from the person who in Tented it. It is a machinery of clock-work, representing the universe in min- iature, and in which the revolution of the earth round itself and round the sun, the revolution of the moon round the earth, the revolution of the planets round the sun, their relative distances from the sun, as the centre of the whole system, their relative distances from each other, and their different magni tudes, are represented as they really exist in what we call the heavens. 48 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART F. Several vessels, following the tract of the ocean, have sailed en. tirely round the world, as a man may march in a circle, and come round by the contrary side of the circle to the spot he set out from. The circular dimensions of our world, in the widest part, as a man would measure the widest round of an apple, or a ball, is only twenty-five thousand and twenty English miles, reckoning sixty- nine miles and an half to an equatorial degree, and may be sailed round in the space of about three years.* A world of this extent may, at first thought, appear to us to be great ; but if we compare it with the immensity of space in which it is suspended, like a bubble or balloon in the air, it is infinitely less, in proportion, than the smallest grain of sand is to the size of the world, or the finest particle of dew to the whole ocean, and is therefore but small ; and, as will be hereafter shown, is only one of a system of worlds, of which the universal creation is corn- It is not difficult to gain some faint idea of the immensity ot space in which this and all the other worlds are suspended, if we follow a progression of ideas. When we think of the size or dimensions of a room, our ideas limit themselves to the walls, and there they stop ; but when our eye, or our imagination darts into space, that is, when it looks upwards into what we call the open air, we cannot conceive any walls or boundaries it can have ; and if for the sake of resting our ideas, we suppose a boundary, the question immediately renews itself, and asks, what is beyond that boundary ? and in the same manner, what beyond the next boun- dary ? and so on till the fatigued imagination returns and says, there is no end. Certainly, then, the Creator was not pent for room, when he made this world no larger than it is ; and we have to seek the reason in something else. If we take a survey of our ovra world, or rather of this, of which the Creator has given us the use, as our portion in the immense system of Creation, we find every part of it, the earth, the waters, and the air that surroimds it, filled, and, as it were, crowded with life, down fi-om the largest animals that we know of to the smallest insects the naked eye can behold, and from thence to others still * Allowing a ship to sail, on an average, three miles in an hour, she would sail entirely round tne world in less than one year, if she could sail in a direct circle ; but she is obliged to follow the course of the ocean. rARr I.l THE AGE OF KEASOK. 49 smaller, and totally invisible without the assistance of the micro- scope. Every tree, every plant, every leaf, serves not only as an habitation, but as a world to some numerous race, till animal existence becomes so exceedingly refined, that the effluvia of a blade of grass would be food for thousands. Since then no part of our earth is left unoccupied, why is it to be supposed that the immensity of space is a naked void, lying in eternal waste ? There is room for millions of worlds as large or larger than ours, and each of them millions of miles apart from each other. Havmg now arrived at this point, if we carry our ideas only one thought further, we shall see, perhaps, the true reason, at least a very good reason, for our happiness, why the Creator, in- stead of making one immense world, extending over an immense quantity of space, has preferred dividing that quantity of matter into several distinct and separate worlds, which we call planets, of which our earth is one. But before I explain my ideas upon this subject, it is necessary (not for the sake of those that already know, but for those who do not) to show what the system of the universe is. That part of the universe tnat is called the solar system (mean- mg the system of worlds to which our earth belongs, and of which Sol, or in English language, the Sun, is the centre) consists, be- sides the Sun, of six distinct orbs, or planets, or worlds, besides the secondary bodies, called the satellites or moons, of which our earth has one that attends her in her annual revolution round the Sun, in like manner as other sattelites or moons, attend the planets or worlds to which they severally belong, as may be seen by the assistance of the telescope. The Sun is the centre, round which those six worlds or planets revolve at different distances therefrom, and in circles concen- trate to each other. Each world keeps constantly in nearly the same track round the Sun, and continues, at the same time, turning round itself, in nearly an upright position, as a top turns round itself when it is spinning on the ground, and leans a little sideways. It is this leaning of the earth (23^ degrees) that occasions sum- mer and winter, and the different length of days and nights. If the earth turned round itself in a position perpendicular to the plane or level of the circle it moves in around the Sun,, as a top- turns rountJ 60 THE AOE OF REASON. [PART I when it stands erect on the ground, the days and nights would be always of the same length, twelve hours day and twelve hours nigbtt and the seasons would be uniformly the same throughout the year. Every time that a planet (our earth for example) turns round itself, it makes what we call day and night ; and every time it goes entirely round the Sun, it makes what we call a year, conse- quently our world turns three hundred and sixty-five times round itself, in going once round the Sun.* The names that the ancients gave to those six worlds, and which are still called by the same names, are Mercury, Venus, this world that we call ours, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. They appear larger to the eye than the stars, being many million miles nearer to our earth than any of the stars are. The planet Venus is that which is called the evening star, and sometimes the morn- ing star, as she happens to set after, or rise before the Sun, which in either case, is never more than three hours. The Sun, as before said, being the centre, the planet, or world, nearest the Sun, is Mercury ; his distance from the Sun is thirty- four million miles, and he moves round in a circle always at that distance from the Sun, as a top may be supposed to spin round in the track in which a horse goes in a mill. The second world is Venus, she is fifty-seven million miles distant from the Sun, and consequently moves round in a circle much greater than that of Mercury. The third world is that we inhabit, and which is eighty- eight million miles distant from the Sun, and consequently moves round in a circle greater than that of Venus. The fourth world is Mars, he is distant from the Sun one hundred and thirty-four miUion miles, and consequently moves round in a circle greater than that of our earth. The fifth is Jupiter, he is distant from the Sun five hundred and fifty-seven million miles, and con^e quently moves round in a circle greater than that of Mars. The sixth world is Saturn, he is distant from the Sun seven hund'ed and sixty-three miUion miles, and consequently moves round in a isrcle that surrounds the circles, or orbits, of all the other worlds or pla&ets. The space, therefore, in the air, or in the immensity of space, that cxa solar system takes up for the several worlds to perform * Those who supposed that the Sun went round the earth every 24 hours, made the same mistake in idea that a cook would do in fact, that should make the fire go jouEd the meat, instead of the meat turning round itself to- wards itiis fine. PART 1.] THE AGE OF REASON. 8l their revolutions in round the Sun, is of the extent in a straight line of the whole diameter of the orbit or cicle, in which Saturn moves round the Sun, which being double his distance from the Sun, is fif- teen hundred and twenty-six million miles : and its circular extent IS nearly five thousand million ; and its globical content is almost three thousand five hundred million times three thousand five hun- dred million square miles.* But this, immense as it is, is only one system of worlds. Be- yond this, at a vast distance into space, far beyond all power of calculation, are the stars called the fixed stars. They are called fixed, because they have no revolutionary motion, as the six worlds or planets have that I have been describing. Those fixed stars continue always at the same distance from each other, and always in the same place, as the Sun does in the centre of our system. The probability, therefore, is, that each of those fixed stars is also a Sun, round which another system of worlds or planets, though too remote for us to discover, performs its revo- lutions, as our system of worlds does round our central Sun. By this easy progression of ideas, the immensity of space will appear to us to be filled with systems of worlds ; and that no part of space lies at waste, any more than any part of the globe or earth and water is left unoccupied. Having thus endeavoured to convey, in a familiar and easy manner, some idea of the structure of the universe, I return to explain what I before alluded to, namely, the great benefits arising to man in consequence of the Creator having made a plurality of worlds, such as our system is, consisting of a central Sun and six worlds besides satellites, in preference to that of creating one world only of a vast extent. ♦ If it should be ausked, how can man know these things ? I have one plain answer to give, which is, that man knows how to calculate an eclipse, and also how to calculate to a minute of time when the planet Venus, in making her revolutions round the Sun, will come in a straight line between our earth and the Sun, and will appear to us about the size of a large pea passing across the face of the Sun. This happens but twice in about an hundred years, at the distance of about eight years from each other, and has happened twice in our time, both of which were foreknown by calculation. It can also be known when they will happen again for a thousand years to come, or to any other portion of time. As, tnerefore, man could not be able to do these things if he did not understand the solar system, and the manner in which the revolutions of the several planets or worlds are performed, the fact of calculating an eclipse, or a transit of Venus, is a proof in point that the knowledge exists; ana as to a few thousand, or even a few million miles, more or less, it inak«« Bcarcely any sensible diiTerence in such inunense distances 82 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART I. It is an idea I have never lost sight of, that all our knowledge of science is derived from the revolutions (exhibited to our eye and from thence to our understanding) which those several planets or worlds, of which our system is composed, make in their circuit lound the Sun. Had then the quantity of matter which these six worlds con tain been blended into one solitary globe, the consequence to us would have been, that either no revolutionary motion would have existed, or not a sufficiency of it to give us the idea and the knowledge of science we now have ; and it is from the sciences that all the mechanical arts that contribute so much to our earthly felicity and comfort, are derived. As, therefore, the Creator made nothing in vain, so also must it be believed that He organized the structure of the universe in the most advantageous manner for the benefit of man ; and as we see, and from experience feel, the benefits we derive from the structure of the universe, formed as it is, which benefits we should not have had the opportunity of enjoying, if the structure, so far as relates to our system, had been a solitary globe — we can dis- cover at least one reason why a plurality of worlds has been made, and that reason calls forth the devotional gratitude of man, as well as his admiration. But it is not to us, the inhabitants of this globe, only, that the benefits arising from a plurality of worlds are limited. The in- habitants of each of the worlds of which our system is composed, enjoy the same opportunities of knowledge as we do. They be- hold the revolutionary motions of our earth, as we behold theirs. All the planets revolve in sight of each other ; and, therefore, the same universal school of science presents itself to all. Neither does the knowledge stop here. The system of worlds next to us exhibits, in its revolutions, the same principles and school of science, to the inhabitants of their system, as our system does to us, and in like manner throughout the immensity of space. Our ideas, not only of the almightiness of the Creator, but of his wisdom and his beneficence, become enlarged in proportion as ■we contemplate the extent and the structure of the universe. The solitary idea of a solitary world, rolling or at rest in the immense ocean of space, gives place to the cheerful idea of a society oi worlds, so happily contrived as to administer, even by their mo- liou, instruction to man. "We see our own earth filled with abund* FART I.] THE AGE OF REASON. S8 ance ; but we forget to consider how much of that abundance is owing to the scientific knowledge the vast machinery of the uni- verse has unfolded. But, in the midst of those reflections, what are we to think of the Christian system of faith, that forms itself upon the idea of only one world, and that of no greater extent, as is before shown, than twenty- five thousand miles? An extent which a man, walk- ing at the rate of three miles an hour, for twelve hours in the day, could he keep on in a circular direction, would walk entirely round in less than two years. Alas ! what is this to the mighty ocean of space, and the almighty power of the Creator ! From whence then could arise the solitary and strange conceit, that the Almighty, who had millions of worlds equally dependent on his protection, should quit the care of all the rest, and come to die in our world, because, they say, one man and one woman had eaten an apple ! And, on the other hand, are we to suppose that every world in the boundless creation, had an Eve, an apple, a serpent and a redeemer 1 In this case, the person who is irre- verently called the Son of God, and sometimes God himself, would have nothing else to do than to travel from world to world, in an endless succession of death, with scarcely a momentary interval of life. It has been by rejecting the evidence, that the word or works of God in the creation affords to our senses, and the action of our reason upon that evidence, that so many wild and whimsical sys- tems of faith, and of religion, have been fabricated and set up. There may be many systems of religion, that so far from being morally bad, are in many respects morally good : but there can be but ONE that is true ; and that one necessarily must, as it ever will, be in all things consistent with the ever existing word of God that we behold in his works. But such is the strange construc- tion of the Christian system of faith, that every evidence the Heavens afford to man, either directly contradicts it, or renders it absurd. It is possible to believe, and I always feel pleasure in encourag- ing myself to believe it, that there have been men in the world, who persuade themselves that, what is called a pious fraud, might at least under particular circumstances, be productive of some good. But the fraud being once established, could not afterwards 54 THE AGE OP REASON. [PARt I be explained ; for it is with a pious fraud as with a bad action, it begets a calamitous necessity of going on. The persons who first preached the Christian system of faith, and in some measure combined it with the morality preached by Jesus Christ, might persuade themselves that it was better than the heathen mythology that then prevailed. From the first preachers the fraud went on to the second, and to the third, till the idea of its being a pious fraud became lost in the belief of its being true ; and that belief became again encouraged by the interests of those who made a livelihood by preaching it. But though such a belief might, by such means, be rendered almost general among the laity, it is next to impossible to account for the continual persecution carried on by the church, for several hundred years, against the sciences, and against the professors ot sciences, if the church had not some record or tradition, that it was originally no other than a pious fraud, or did not foresee, that it could not be maintained against the evidence that the structure of the universe afforded. Having thus shown the irreconcileable inconsistencies between the real word of God existing in the universe and that which is called the wcrrd of God, as shown to us in a printed book that any man might make, I proceed to speak of the three principal means that have been employed in all ages, and perhaps in all countries, to impose upon mankind. Those three means are Mystery, Miracle, and Prophesy. The two first are incompatible with true religion, and the third ought always to be suspected. With respect to mystery, every thing we behold is, in one sense, a mystery to us. Our own existence is a mystery ; the whole vegetable world is a mystery. We cannot account how it is that an acorn, when put into the ground, is made to develope itself, and become an oak. We know not how it is that the seed we sow unfolds and multiplies itself, and returns to us such an abundant interest for so small a capital. The fact, however, as distinct from the operating cause, is not a mystery, because we see it ; and we know also the means we are to use, which is no other than putting seed in the ground. — We know, therefore, as much as is necessary for us to know ; and that part of the operation that we do not know, and which if we did. we could not perform, the Creator takes upon himself anving how long the historical matters stated in each page hap- pened, or are supposed to have happened, before Christ, and, con- sequently, the distance of time between one historical circum- stance and another. I begin with the book of Genesis. In the 14th chapter of Gene- sis, the writer gives an account of Lot being taken prisoner in a battle between the four kings against five, and carried off; and that when the account of Lot being taken, came to Abraham, he armed all his household, and marched to rescue Lot from the captors ; and that he pursued them unto Dan. (ver. 14.) To show in what manner this expression o^ pursuing them unto Dan applies to the case in question, I will refer to two circum- stances, the one in America, the other in France. The city now called New- York, in America, was originally New Amster- dam ; and the town in France, lately called Havre Marat, was before called Havre de Grace. New Amsterdam was changed to New-York in the year 1664 ; Havre de Grace to Havre Marat in 1793. Should, therefore, any writing be found, though without date, in which the name of New- York should be mentioned, it would be certain evidence that such a writing could not have been vrritten before, and must have been written after New Amster- dam was changed to New-York, and consequently not till after the year 1664, or at least during the course of that year. And, in like manner, any dateless writing, with the name of Havre Marat, would be certain evidence that such a writing must have been written after Havre de Grace became Havre Marat, and conse- quently not till after the year 1793, or at least during the course of that year. I now come to the application of those cases, and to show that there was no such place as Dan, till many years after the death of Moses ; and consequently, that Moses could not be the writer of the book of Genesis, where this account of pursuing them unto Dan is given. The place that is called Dan in the Bible was originally a town of the Gentiles, called Laish ; and when the tribe of Dan seized upon this town, they changed its name to Dan, in commemoration of Dan, who was the father of that tribe, and the great giandsoii of Abraham. Tf? THE AGE OF REASOX. [PART II. To establish this in proof, it is necessary to refer from Genesii to the 18th chapter of the book called the book of Judges. It \a there said (ver. 27) that they (the Danites) come unto Laish to a people that were quiet and secure, and they smote them with the edge of the sivord (the Bible is filled with murder) and burned the city with fire ; and they huilt a city, (ver. 28,) and dwelt therein, and they called the name of the city Dan, after the name of Dan, flieir father, howheit the name of the city was Laish at the first. This account of the Danites taking possession of Laish and changing it to Dan, is placed in the book of Judges immediately after the death of Sampson. The death of Sampson is said to have happened 1120 years before Christ, and that of Moses 1451 before Christ ; and, therefore, according to the historical arrange- ment, the place was not called Dan till 331 years after the death of Moses. There is a striking confusion between the historical and the chronological arrangement in the Book of Judges. The five last chapters, as they stand in the book, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, are put chronologically before all the preceding chapters ; they are made to be 28 years before the 16th chapter, 266 before the 15th, 245 before the 13th, 195 before the 9th, 90 before the 4th, and 15 years before the first chapter. This shows the un- certain and fabulous state of the Bible. According to the chrono- logical arrangement, the taking of Laish, and giving it the name of Dan, is made to be 20 years after the death of Joshua, who was the successor of Moses ; and by the historical order as it stands in the book, it is made to be 306 years after the death of Joshua, and 331 after that of Moses ; but they both exclude Moses from being the writer of Genesis, because, according to either of the statements, no such place as Dan existed in the time of Moses ; and, therefore, the writer of Genesis must have been some person who lived after the town of Laish had the name of Dan ; and who that person wis, nobody knows ; and consequently the book of Genesis is anonymous and without authority. I proceed now to state another point of historical and chrono- logical evidence, and to show therefrom, as in the preceding case, that Moses is not the author of the book of Genesis. In the 36th chapter of Genesis there is given a genealogy of the sons ond descendants of Esau, who are called Edomites, and also a list, by name, of the kings of Edom ; in enumerating of which. PART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 79 it is said, verse 31, ^^ And these are the kings that reigned in Kdom, before there reigned any king over the children of IsraeV Now, were any dateless writings to be found, in which, speak- ing of anj past events, the writer should say, these things happen- ed before there was any Congress in America, or before there was any Convention in France, it would be evidence that such writings could not have been written before, and could only be written after there was a Congress in America, or a Convention ir France, as the case might be ; and, consequently, that it could not be written by any person who died before there was a Congress in the one country, or a Convention in the other. Nothing is more frequent, as well in history as in conversation, than to refer to a fact in the room of a date : it is most natuial so to do, because a fact fixes itself in the memory better than a date ; secondly, because the fact includes the date, and serves to excite two ideas at once ; and this manner of speaking by circum- stances implies as positively that the fact alluded to \s pasty as if it was so expressed. When a person speaking upon any matier, says, it was before I was married, or before my son was born, or before I went to America, or before I went to France, it is abso- lutely understood, and intended to be understood, that he has been married, that he has had a son, that he has been in America, or been in France. Language does not admit of using this mode of expression in any other sense ; and whenever such an expression is found any where, it can only be understood in the sense in which only it could have been used. The passage, therefore, that 1 have quoted — " that these are the kings that reigned in Edom, before there reigned amj king over the children of Israel," could only have been written after the first king began to reign over them ; and, consequently, that the book of Genesis so far from having been written by Moses, could not have been written till the time of Saul at least. This is the positive sense of the passage ; but the expression, amj king, im- plies more kings than one, at least it implies two, and this will carry it to the time of David ; and, if taken in a general sense, it carries itself through all the time of the Jewish monarchy. Had we met with this verse in any part of the Bible that pro- fessed to have been written after kings began to reign in Israel, it would have been impossible not to have seen the application of it. It happens then that this is the case ; the two books of Chro so THE AGE OF REASON. [PART II. nicies, which gave a history of all the kings of Israel, are pro- fesaedly, as well as in fact, written after the Jewish monarchy be- gan ; and this verse that I have quoted, and all the remaining verses of the 36th chapter of Genesis, are, word for word, in the first coapter of Chronicles, beginning at the 43d verse. It was with consistency that the writer of the Chronicles could say, as he has said, 1st Chron. chap. i. ver. 43, These are the kings that reigned in Edam, before there reigned any king over the children of Israel, because he was going to give, and has given a list of the kings that had reigned in Israel; but as it is impossible that the same expression could have been used before that period, it is as certain as anything can be proved from historical language, that this part of Genesis is taken from Chronicles, and that Ge- nesis is not so old as Chronicles, and probably not so old as the book of Homer, or as ^sop's Fables, admitting Homer to have been, as the tables of chronology state, contemporary with David or Solomon, and ^sop to have lived about the end of th^ Jewish monarchy. Take away from Genesis the belief that Moses was the author, on which only the strange belief that it is the word of God has stood, and there remains nothing of Genesis but an anonymous book of stories, fables, and traditionary or invented absurdities, or of downright lies. The story of Eve and the serpent, and of Noah and his ark, drops to a level with the Arabian Tales, with- out the merit of being entertaining ; and the account of men living to eight and nine hundred years becomes as fabulous as the im- mortality of the giants of the Mythology. Besides, the charactet of Moses, as stated in the Bible, is the most horrid that can be imagined. If those accounts be true, he was the wretch that first began and carried on wars on the score, or on the pretence of religion ; and under that mask, or that infatuation, committed the most unexampled atrocities that are to be found in the history of any nation, of which I will slate only one instance. When the Jewish army returned from one of their murdering and plundering excursions, the account goes on as follows, Numbers, chap. xxxi. ver. 13. *'And Moses, and Eleazer the priest, and all the princes of the congregation, went forth to meet them without the camp ; and Moses was wroth with the officers of the host, with the captains FART II.] THE AGE OF KEASON. $) over thousands, and captains over hundreds, which came from the battle ; and Moses said unto them, Have ye saved all tht tcomen alive ? behold, these caused the children of Israel, through the council of Balaam, to commit trespass against the Lord in the matter of Peor, and there was a plague among the congrega- tion of the Lord. Now therefore, kill every male among the lil- tle ones, and kill every troman that hath known a man by lying with him ; but all the rcuman children that have not knoicn a man by lying ivith him keep alive for yomselves. Among the detestable villains that in any period of the world have disgraced the name of man, it is impossible to find a greater than Moses, if this account be true. Here is an order to butcher the boys, to massacre the mothers, and debauch the daughters. Let any mother put herself in the situation of those mothers ; one child murdered, another destined to violation, and herself in the hands of an executioner : let any daughter put herself in the situation of those daughters, destined as a prey to the murderers of a mother and a brother, and what will be their feelings ? It is in vain that we attempt to impose upon nature, for nature will have her course, and the religion that tortures all her social ties is a false religion. Aftei this detestable order, follows an account of the plunder taken, and the manner of dividing it; and here it is that the pro- phaneness of priestly hypocrisy increases the catalogue of crimes. Verse 37, " And the Lord's tribute of the sheep was six hundred and three score and fifteen ; and the beeves was thirty and six thousand, of which the Lord's tribute was three score and twelve ; and the asses were thirty thousand, of which the Lord's tribute was three-score and one ; and the persons were thirty thousane historian that lived after Joshua, but that lived also after the elders that out-lived Joshua. There are several passages of a general meaning with respect to time, scattered throughout the book of Joshua, that carries the time in which the book was written to a distance from the time of Joshua, but without marking by exclusion any particular time, as in the passage above quoted. In that passage, the time that in- tervened between the death of Joshua and the death of the elders is excluded descriptively and absolutely, and the evidence sub- stantiates that the book could not have been written till after the death of the last. But though the passages to which I allude, and which I am going to quote, do not designate any particular time by exclusion, they imply a time far more distant from the days of Joshua, thau is PART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 85 contained between the death of Joshua and the death of the elders. — Such is the passage, chap. x. ver. 14 ; where, after giving an account thaf. the sun stood still upon Gibeon, and the moon in the valley of Aialon, at the command of Joshua, (a tale only fit to amuse children) the passage says, ♦* And there was no day like that, before it, nor after it, that the Lord hearkened to the voice of a man." This tale of the sun standing still upon Mount Gibeon, and the moon in the valley of Ajalon, is one of those fables that detects itself. Such a circumstance could not have happened without being known all over the world. One half would have wondered why the sun did not rise, and the other why it did not set ; and the tradition of it would be universal, whereas there is not a nation in the world that knows any thing about it. But why must the moon stand still 1 What occasion could there be for moon-light in the day- time, and that too while the sun shined 1 Asa poetical figure, the whole is well enough ; it is akin to that in the song of Deborah and Baruk, The stars m their courses fought against Sisera ; but it is inferior to the figurative declaration of Mahomet, to the per- sons who came to expostulate with him on his going on, Wert thou, said he, to come to me with the sun in thy right hand and the moon in thy left, it should not alter my career. For Joshua to have exceeded Mahomet, he should have put the sun and moon one in each pocket, and carried them as Guy Faux carried his dark lanthorn, and taken them out to shine as he might happen to want them. The sublime and the ridiculous are often so nearly related that it is difficult to class them separately. One step above the sub- lime makes the ridiculous, and one step above the ridiculous makes the sublime again ; the account, however, abstracted from the poetical fancy, shows the ignorance of Joshua, for he should have commanded the earth to have stood still. The time implied by the expression after it, that is, after that day, being put in comparison with all the time that passed before it, must, in order to give any expressive signification to the passage, mean a great length of time : — for example, it would have been ridiculous to have said so the next day, or the next week, or the next month, or the next year ; to give, therefore, meaning to the passage, comparative with the wonder it relates, and the prior time 't alludes to, it must mean centuries of years ; less, however thao 86 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART II. one would be trifling, and less than two would be barely admis- sible. A distant, but general time, is also expressed in the 8th chap- ter ; where, after giving an account of the taking the city of Ai, it is said, ver. 28th, " And Joshua burned Ai, and made it an heap for ever, a desolation unto this day ;" and again, ver. 29, where, speaking of the king of Ai, whom Joshua had hanged, and buried at the entering of the gate, it is said, " And he raised thereon a great heap of stones, which remaineth unto this day," that is, unto the day or time in which the writer of the book of Joshua lived. And again, in the 10th chapter, where, after speaking of the five kings whom Joshua had hanged on five trees, and then thrown in a cave, it is said, " And he laid great stones on the cave's mouth, which remain unto this very day." In enumerating the several exploits of Joshua, and of the tribes, and of the places which they conquered or attempted, it is said, c. XV. ver. 63, " As for the Jebusites, the inhabitants of Jerusalem, the children of Judah could not drive them out ; but the Jebu- sites dwell with the children of Judah at Jo'usalem unto this dayy The question upon this passage is, at what time did the Jebusites and the children of Judah dwell together at Jerusalem 1 As this matter occurs again in the first chapter of Judges, I shall reserve my observations till I come to that part. Having thus shown from the book of Joshua itself, without any auxiliary evidence whatever, that Joshua is not the author of that book, and that it is anonymous, and consequently with- out authority. I proceed, as before-mentioned, to the book of Judges. The book of Judges is anonymous on the face of it ; and, there- fore, even the pretence is wanting to call it the word of God ; it has not so much as a nominal voucher ; it is altogether fatherless. This book begins with the same expression as the book of Joshua. That of Joshua begins, chap. i. ver 1, JVbto after the death of Mioses, ^-c. and this of Judges begins, JVoio after the death of Joshua, ^-c. This, and the similarity of style between the two books, indicate that they are the work of the same author, but who he was, is altogether unknown : the only point that the book proves is, that the author lived long after the time of Joshua ; for though it begins as if it followrd immediately after his death, the PART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 67 second chapter is an epitome or abstract of the whole book which, according to the Bible chronology, extends its history through a space of 306 years ; that is, from the death of Joshua, 1426 years before Christ, to the death of Sampson, 1120 yeara before Chnst, and only 25 years before Saul went to seek his fafher^s a«*;s, and ivas made king. But there is good reason to believe, that it was not written till the time of David, at least, and that the book of Joshua was not written before the same time. In the first chapter of Judges, the writer, after announcing the death of Joshua, proceeds to tell what happened between the chil- dren of Judah and the native inhabitants of the land of Canaan. In this statement, the writer, having abruptly mentioned Jerusa- lem in the 7th verse, says immediately after, in the 8th verse, by way of explanation, •' Now the children of Judah had fought against Jerusalem, and taken it ;" consequently this book could not have been written before Jerusalem had been taken. The reader will recollect the quotation I have just before made from the 15th chapter of Joshua, ver. 63, where it is said, that the Jehu- sites dwell with the children of Judah at Jerusalem at this day ; meaning the time when the book of Joshua was written. The evidence I have already produced, to prove that the books I have hitherto treated of were not written by the persons to whom they are ascribed, nor till many years after their death, if such per- sons ever lived, is already so abundant, that I can afford to admit this passage with less weight than I am entitled to draw from it. For the case is, that so far as the Bible can be credited as an history, the city of Jerusalem was not taken till the time of David; and, consequently, that the books of Joshua, and of Judges, were not written till after the commencement of the reign of David, which was 370 years after the death of Joshua. The name of the city, that was afterwards called Jerusalem, was originally Jebus or Jebusi, and was the capital of the Jebu- sites. The account of David's taking this city is given in 2 Samuel, chap. v. ver. 4, &c.; also in 1 chron. chap. xiv. ver. 4, &c. There is no mention in any part of the Bible that it was ever taken before, nor any account that favours such an opinion. It is not said, either in Samuel or in Chronicles, that they utterly destroyed men, women, and childreyi ; that they left not a soul to breathe, as is said of their other conquests ; and the silence here feS THE AGE OF REASON. [PART 11. observed implies that it was taken by capitulation, and that the Jebusites, the native inhabitants, continued to live in the place after it was taken. The account, therefore, given in Joshua, that the Jebusites dwell with the children of Judah at Jerusalem at this day, corresponds to no other time than after the taking the city by David. Having now shown that every book in the Bible, from Genesis to Judges, is without authenticity, I come to the book of Ruth, an idle, bungling story, foolishly told, nobody knows by whom, about a strolling country girl creeping slyly to bed to her cousin Boaz. Pretty stuff indeed to be called the word of God ! It is, however, one of the best books in the Bible, for it is free from murder and rapine. I come next to the two books of Samuel, and to show that those books were not written by Samuel, nor till a great length of time after the death of Samuel : and that they are, like all the former books, anonymous and without authority. To be convinced that these books have been written much later than the time of Samuel, and, consequently, not by him, it is only necessaiy to read the account which the writer gives of Saul going to seek his father's asses, and of his interview with Samuel, of whom Saul went to inquire about those lost asses, as foolish people now-a-days go to a conjuror to inquire after lost things. The writer, in relating this story of Saul, Samuel, and the asses, does not tell it as a thing that had just then happened, but as an ancient story in the time this writer lived; for he tells it in the language or terms used at the time that Samuel lived, which obliges the writer to explain the story in the terms or language used in the time the writer lived. Samuel, in the account given of him, in the first of those books, chap. ix. is called the seer; and it is by this term that Saul in- quires after him, ver. 11, "And as they (Saul and his servant) went up the hill to the city, they found young maidens going out to draw water ; and they said unto them, 7s the seer here .?" Saul then went according to the direction of these maidens, and met Samuel without knowing him, and said unto him, ver. 18, " Tell me, I pray thee, where the seer''s house is? and Samuel answered Saul, and said, I am the seer." As the writer of the book of Samuel relates these questions and answers, in the language or manner of speaking used in the time fART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 69 they are said to have been spoken ; and as that manner of speak- ing was out of use when this author wrote, he found it necessary, in order to make the story understood, to explain the terms in which these questions and answers are spoken ; and he does this m the 9th verse, where he says, " before-time, in Israel, when a man went to inquire of God, thus he spake. Come, let us go to the seer ; for he that is now called a prophet, was before-time called a seer." This proves, as I have before said, that this story of Saul, Samuel, and the asses, was an ancient story at the time the book of Samuel was written, and consequently that Samuel did not write it, and that that book is without authenticity. But if we go further into those books, the evidence is still more positive that Samuel is not the writer of them ; for they relate things that did not happen till several years after the death of Samuel. Samuel died before Saul ; for the 1st Samuel, chap, xxviii. tells, that Saul and the witch of Endor conjured Samuel up after he was dead ; yet the history of the matters contained in those books is extended through the remaining part of Saul's life, and to the latter end of the life of David, who succeeded Saul. The account of the death and burial of Samuel (a thing which he could not write himself) is related in the 25th chapter of the first book of Samuel ; and the chronology affixed to this chapter makes this to be 1060 years before Christ; yet the history of this first book is brought down to 1056 years before Christ ; that is, to the death of Saul, which was not till four years after the death of Samuel. The second book of Samuel begins with an account of things that did not happen till four years after Samuel was dead ; for it begins with the reign of David, who succeeded Saul, and it goes on to the end of David's reign, which was forty-three years after the death of Samuel ; and, therefore, the books are in themselves positive evidence that they were not written by Samuel. I have now gone through all the books in the first part of the Bible, to which the names of persons are affixed, as being the authors of those books, and which the church, styling itself the Christian church, have imposed upon the world as the writings of Moses, Joshua, and Samuel ; and I have detected and proved the falsehood of this imposition. And now, ye priests, of every des- cription, who have preached and written against the former part of the >Bge of Reason, what have ye to say 1 "Will ye, with all 12 90 THE ACE OF KEASGN. fPART 11. this mass of evidence against you, and staring you in the face, still have the assurance to march into your pulpits, and continue to impose these books on your congregations, as the works of inspired penmen, and the word of God, when it i-s as evident as de- monstration can make truth appear, that the persons who, ye say, are the authors, are not the authors, and that ye know not who the authors are. What shadow of pretence have ye now to produce, for continuing the blasphemous fraud ? What have ye still to offer against the pure and moral religion of Deism, in support of your system of falsehood, idolatry, and pretended revelation ? Had the cruel and murderous orders, with which the Bible is filled, and the numberless torturing executions of men, women, and children, in consequence of those orders, been ascribed to some friend, whose memory you revered, you Avould have glowed with satisfaction at detecting the falsehood of the charge, and gloried in defending his injured fame. It is because ye are sunk in the cruelty of superstition, or feel no interest in the honour of your Creator, that ye listen to the horrid tales of the Bible, or hear them with callous indifference. The evidence I have produced, and shall still produce in the course of this work, to prove that the Bible is without authority, will, whilst it wounds the stubbornness of a priest, relieve and tranquillize the minds of millions ; it will free them from all those hard thoughts of the Almighty which priest-craft and the Bible had infused into their minds, and which stood in everlasting opposition to all their ideas of his moral justice and benevolence. I come now to the two books of Kings, and the two books of Chronicles. Those books are altogether historical, and are chief- ly confined to the lives and actions of the Jewish kings, who in general were a parcel of rascals ; but these are matters with which we have no more concern, than we have with the Roman em- perors, or Homer's account of the Trojan war. Besides which, as those works are anonymous, and as we know nothing of the writer, or of his character, it is impossible for us to know what degree of credit to give to the matters related therein. Like all other ancient histories, they appear to be a jumble of fable and of fact, and of probable and of improbable things ; but which, distance of time and place, and change of circumstances in the world, have rendered obsolete and uninteresting. PART II.] THE AGE OF HEASON. 9i The chief use I shall make of those books, will be that of com- paring them with each other, and with other parts of the Bible, to show the confusion, contradiction, and cruelty, in this pretended word of God. The first book of Kings begins with the reign of Solomon, which according to the Bible Chronology, was 1015 years before Christ ; and the second book ends 58S years before Christ, being a little after the reign of Zedekiah, whom Nebuchadnezzar, after taking Jerusalem, and conquering the Jews, carried captive to Babylon. The two books include a space of 427 years. The two book of Chronicles are a history of the same times, and in general of the same persons, by another author ; for it would be absurd to suppose that the same author wrote the his- tory twice over. The first book of Chronicles (after giving the genealogy from Adam to Saul, which takes up the first nine chap- ters) begins with the reign of David ; and the last book ends as in the last book of Kings, soon after the reign of Zedekiah, about 688 years before Christ. The two last verses of the last chapter bring the history 52 years more forward, that is, to 53G. But these verses do not belong to the book, as I shall show when 1 come to speak of the book of Ezra. The two books of Kings, besides the history of Saul, David and Solomon, who reigned over all Israel, contain an abstract of the lives of seventeen kings and one queen, who are styled kings of Judah, and of nineteen, who are styled kings of Israel ; for the Jewish nation, immediately on the death of Solomon, spli' into two parties, who chose separate kings, and who carried or most rancorous wars against each other. Those two books are little more than a history of assassi- nations, treachery, and wars. The cruelties that the Jews had accustomed themselves to practise on the Caananites, whose country they had savagely invaded under a pretended gift front God, they afterwards practised as furiously on each other. Scarcely half their kings died a natural death, and in some instances whole families were destroyed to secure possession to the suc- cessor, who, after a few years, and sometimes only a few months, or less, shared the same fate. In the tenth chapter of the second book of Kings, an account is given of two baskets full of chil- dren's heads, 70 in number, being exoosed at the entrance of the city; they were the children of Ahab, an 1 were murdered by 32 THE AGE or REASON. [PART 11. the orders of Jehu, whom Elisha, the pretended man of God, had anointed to be king over Israel, on purpose to commit this bloody deed, and assassinate his predecessor. And in the ac- count of the reign of Manaham, one of the kings of Israel who had murdered Shallum, who had reigned but one month, it is said, Kings, chap. xv. ver. 16, that Manaham smote the city of Tiphsah, because they opened not the city to him, and all the women that were therein that were iinth child they ripped up. Could we permit ourselves to suppose that the Almighty would distinguish any nation of people by the name of his chosen people, we must suppose that people to have been an example to all the rest of the world of the purest piety and humanity, and not such a nation of ruffians and cut-throats as the ancient Jews were; a people, who, corrupted by, and copying after such monsters and imposters as Moses and Aaron, Joshua, Samuel, and David, had distinguish- ed themselves above all others, on the face of the known earth, for barbarity and wickedness. If we will not stubbornly shut our eyes, and steel our hearts, it is impossible not to see, in spite of all that long-established superstition imposes upon the mind, that that flattering appellation of his chosen people is no other than a lie the priests and leaders of the Jews had invent- ed, to cover the baseness of their own characters ; and which Christian priests, sometimes as corrupt, and often as cruel, have professed to believe. The two books of Chronicles are a repetition of the same crimes ; but the history is broken in several places, by the author leaving out the reign of some of their kings ; and in this, as well as in that of Kings, there is such a frequent transition from kings of Judah to kings of Israel, and from kings of Israel to kings of Judah, that the narrative is obscure in the reading. In the same book the history sometimes contradicts itself; for example, in the second book of Kings, chap. i. ver. 8, we are told, but in rather ambiguous terms, that after the death of Ahaziah, king of Israel. Jehoram, or Joram (who was of the house of Ahab) reigned in his stead in the second year of Jehoram, or Joram, son of Je- hoshaphat king of Judah ; and in chap. viii. ver. 16, of the same book, it is said, and in the fifth year of Joram, the son of Ahab, king of Israel, Jehoshaphat being then king of Judah, began to reign • that is, one chapter says Joram of Judah began to leign in the second year of Joram of Israel ; and the other chap- PART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 93 ter says, that Joram of Israel began to reign in the fifth year of Joram of Judah. Several of the most extraordinary matters related in one history, as having happened during the reign of such and such of their kings are not to be found in the other, in relating the reign of the same king ; for example, the two first rival kings, after the death of Solomon, were Rehoboam and Jeroboam ; and in 1 Kings, chap xii. and xiii. an account is given of Jeroboam making an offering of burnt incense, and that a man who is there called a man of God, cried out against the altar, chap. xiii. ver. 2, " altar ! altar ! thus saith the Lord ; Behold, a child shall be born to the house of David, Josiah by name, and upon thee shall he offer the priests of the high places, and burn incense upon thee, and men's bones shall be burnt upon thee." — Ver. 3, " And it came to pass, when king Jeroboam heard the saying of the man of God, which had cried against the altar in Bethel, that he put forth his hand from the altar, saying, Lay hold on him ; and his hand which he put out against him dried up, so that he could not pull it again to him.^^ One would think that such an extraordinary case as this, (which is spoken of as a judgment,) happening to the chief of one of the parties, and that at the first moment of the separation of the Israel- ites into two nations, would if it hud been true, have been recorded in both histories. But though men in latter time have believed all that the prophets have said unto them, it does not appear these pro- phets or historians believed each other, they knew each other too well. A long account also is given in Kings about Elijah. It runs through several chapters, and concludes with telling, 2 Kmgs, chap. ii. ver. 11, " And it came to pass, as they (Elijah and Eli- sha) still went on, and talked, that behold, there appeared a chariot of fire and horses of fire, and parted them both asunder, and Elijah went up by a whirlwind into heaven.^^ Hum ! this the author of Chronicles, miraculous as the story is, makes no mention oi, though ne mentions Elijah by name ; neither does he say any thing of the story related in the second chapter of the same book of Kings, of a parcel of children calling Elisha bald head, bald head ; and thatthiss mail of God, ver.24, " turned back, and looked upon them, and cursed them in the yiame of the Lord ; and there came forth two she bears out of the wood, and tore forty and two children of them." He also passes over in silence the story told, 2 Kings, 94 THE AGE OP REASON. [PART II chap. xiii. that when they were burying a man in the sepulchre, where Elisha had been buried, it happened that the dead man, as they were letting him down, (ver. 21,) " touched the bones of Eli- sha, and he (the dead man) revived, and stood upon hisfeeV The story does not tell us whether they buried the man notwithstand- mg he revived and stood upon his feet, or drew him up again. Upon all these stones, the writer of Chronicles is as silent as any writer of the present day, who did not choose to be accused of lying, or at least of romancing, would be about stories of the same kind. But, however thbse two historians may differ from each other, with respect to the tales related by either, they are silent alike with respect to those men styled prophets, whose writings fill up the latter part of the Bible. Isaiah, who lived in the time of He- zekiah, is mentioned in Kings, and again in Chronicles, when these historians are speaking of that reign ; but except in one or two instances at most, and those very slightly, none of the rest are so much as spoken of, or even hinted at ; though, according to the Bible chronology, they lived within the time those histories were written ; some of them long before. If those prophets, as they are called, were men of such importance in their day, as the com- pilers of the Bible, and priests, and commentators have since represented them to be, how can it be accounted for, that not one of these histories should say any thing about them ? The history in the books of Kings and of Chronicles is brought forward, as I have already said, to the year 588 before Christ ; it will therefore be proper to examine, which of these prophets lived before that period. Here follows a table of all the prophets, with the times in which they lived before Christ, according to the Chronology affixed to the first chapter of each of the books of the prophets ; and also of the number of years they lived before the books of Kings and Chronicles were written. FART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 95 Table of the Prophets, with the time in ichich they lived before Carist, and also before the books of Kings and Chronicles were written. Names Isaiah Years before Christ. 760 Yrs. before Kings and Chronicles. 172 Observations. mentioned. Jeremiah - - 629 41 ( mentioned only \ the last c. of Chr Ezekiel - . 595 7 not mentioned. Daniel . 607 19 not mentioned. Hosea . 785 97 not mentioned. Joel . 800 212 not mentioned. Amos . 789 199 not mentioned. Obadiah - . 789 199 not mentioned Jonah . 862 274 see the note.* Micah _ 750 162 not mentioned. Nahum . 713 125 not mentioned. Habakkuk- . 620 38 not mentioned. Zephaniah- _ 630 42 not mentioned. Haggai \ Zachariah > Malachi j after the year 5S8 1 This table is either not very honourable for the Bible historians, or not very honorable for the Bible prophets ; and I leave to priests, and commentators, who are very learned in little things, to settle the point of etiquette between the two ; and to assign a reason, why the authors of Kings and Chronicles have treated those prophets, whom in the former part of the ^ge of Reason, I have considered as poets, with as much degrading silence as anv historian of the present day would treat Peter Pindar. I have one observation more to make on the book of Chronicles ; after which I shall pass on to review the remaining books of the Bible. In my observations on the book of Genesis, I have quoted a passage from the 36th chapter, verse 31, which evidently refers to a time, after that kings began to reign over the children of Israel ; and I have shown that as this verse is verbatim the same as in Chronicles chap. i. verse 43, where it stands consistently with the * In 2 Kings, chap. xiv. ver. 25, the name of Jonah is mentioned on account of the restoration of a tract of land by Jeroboam ; but nothing further is said of him, nor is any allusion made to the book of Jonali, nor to his expedition *o Ninevah, nor to his encounter with the whale. 96 THE AGE OF REASOX. [PART tl. order of history, which in Genesis it does not, that the verse in Genesis, and a great part of the 36th chapter, have been taken from Chronicles ; and that the book of Genesis, though it is placed first in the Bible, and ascribed to Moses, has been manu- factured by some unknown person, after the book of Chronicles was written, which was not until at least eight hundred and sixty years after the time of Moses. The evidence I proceed by to substantiate this is regular, and has in it but two stages. First, as I have already stated, that the passage in Genesis refers itself for time to Chronicles; secondly, that the book of Chronicles, to which this passage refers itself, was not begun to be written until at least eight hundred and sixty years after the time of Moses. To prove this, we have only to look into the thirteenth verse of the third chapter of the first book of Chronicles, where the writer, in giving the genealogy of the descendants of David, mentions Zedekiah ; and it was in the time of Zedekiah, that Nebuchadnezzar conquered Jerusalem, 588 years before Christ, and consequently more than 860 years after Moses. Those who have superstitiously boasted of the antiquity of the Bible, and particularly of the books ascribed to Moses, have done it without examination, and without any autho- rity than that of one credulous man telling it to another ; for, so far as historical and chronological evidence applies, the very first book in the Bible is not so ancient as the book of Homer, by more than three hundred years, and is about the same age with ^sop's Fables. I am not contending for the morality of Homer ; on the con- trary, I think it a book of false glory, tending to inspire immoral and mischievous nations of honour : and with respect to ^sop, though the moral is in general just, the fable is often cruel ; and the cruelty of the fable does more injury to the heart, especially in a child, than the moral does good to the judgment Having now dismissed Kings and Chronicles, I come to the next in course, the book of Ezra. As one proof, among others, I shall produce, to show the dis- order in which this pretended word of God, the Bible, has been put together, and the uncertainty of who the authors were, we have only to look at the three first verses in Ezra, and the two last in Chronicles ; for by what kind of cutting and shuffling has it been that the three first verses in Ezra should be the two last THE AGE OF REASON. 97 PARI II.] verses in Chronicles, or that the two last in Chronicles should be the three first in Ezra ? Either the authors did not know their own works, or the compilers did not know the authors. Th-ee first Verses of Ezra. Yer. 1. Now in the first year of Cyrus, king of Persia, that the word of the Lord, by the mouth of Jeremiah, might be fulfilled, the Lord stirred up the spirit of Cyrus, king of Persia, that he made a proclamation throughout all his kingdom, and put it also in writing, saying, 2. Thus saith Cyrus, king of Persia, The Lord God of hea- ven hath given me all the king- doms of the earth ; and he hath charged me to build him an house at Jerusalem, which is in Judah. 3. Who is there among you of all his people ? his God be with him, and let him go up, to Jerusalem, ivhich is in Judah, and build the house of the Lord God of Israel {he is the God) which is in Jerusalem. The last verse in Chronicles is broken abruptly, and ends in the middle of a phrase with the word up, without signifying to what place. This abrupt break, and the appearance of the same verses in different books, show, as I have already said, the disorder and ignorance in which the Bible has been put together, and that the compilers of it had no authority for what they were doing, nor we any authority for believing what they have done.* * I observed, as I passed alono:, several broken and senseless passages in the Bible, without thinking them of consequence enough to be introduced in the body of the work ; such as that, 1 Samuel, chap. xiii. ver. 1, where it is said, "Saul reigned one year; and when he had reigned two years over Israel, Saul chose him three thousand men, &c." The first part of the verse, that Saul reigned one year has no sense, since it does not tell us what Saul did, nor say any thing of what happened at the end of that one year ; and it is, besides,, mere absurdity to say he reigned one year, when the very next phreise say> 13 Two last Verses of Chronicles. Ter. 22. Now in the first year of Cyrus, king of Persia, that the word of the Lord, spoken by the mouth of Jere- miah, might be accomplished, the Lord stirred up the spirit of Cyrus, king of Persia, that he made a proclamation throughout all his kingdom, and put it also in writing, saying. 23. Thus saith Cyrus, king of Persia, all the kingdoms of the earth hath the Lord God of heaven given me ; and he hath charged me to build him an house in Jerusalem, which is in Judah. Who is there among you of his people? the Lord his God be with him, and let him go up. Si THE AOE OF REASON. [PART 11. The only thing that has any appearance of certainty in the book of Ezra, is the time in which it was written, which was im- mediately after the return of the Jews from the Babylonian cap- tivity, about 536 years before Christ. Ezra (who, according to the Jewish commentators, is the same person as is called Esdras in the Apocrypha) was one of the persons who returned, and who, it is probable, wrote the account of that affair. Nehemiah, whose book follows next to Ezra, was another of the returned persons ; and who, it is also probable, wrote the account of the same affair, in the book that bears his name. But those accounts are nothing to us, nor to any other persons, unless it be to the Jews, as a part of the history of their nation; and there is just as much of the word of God in those books as there is in any of the histories of France, or Rapin's history of England, or the history of any other country. But even in matters of historical record, neither of those writers are to be depended upon. In the second chapter of Ezra, the writer gives a list of the tribes and families, and of the precise number of souls of each that returned from Babylon to Jerusalem ; and this enrolment of the persons so returned, appears to have been one of the principal objects for writing the book ; but in this there is an error, that destroys the intention of the undertaking he had reigned two ; for if he had reigned two, it was impossible not to have reigned one. Another instance occurs in Joshua, chap. v. where the writer tells us a story of an angel (for such the table of contents at the head of the chapter calls him,) appearing unto Joshua ; and the story ends abruptly, and without any conclusion. The story is as follows : — Ver. 13, " And it came to pass, when Joshua was by Jericho, that he lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold there stood a man over against him with his sword drawn in his hand ; and Joshua went unto him and said unto him, Art thou for us, or for our adversaries ?" Verse 14, "And he said, Nay; but as the captain of the hosts of the Lord am I now come. And .toshua fell on his face to the earth, and did worship and said unto him, What saith my Lord unto his servant?" Verse 15, "And the captain of the Lord's host said unto Joshua, Lose thy shoe from off thy foot ; for the place whereon thou standest is holy. And Joshua did so." — And v/hat then; nothing, for here the story ends, and the chapter too. Either this story is broken off in the middle, or it is a story told by some Jewish humourist, in ridicule of Joshua's pretended mission from God ; and ttie compilers of the Bible, not perceiving the design of the story, have told it as a serious matter. As a story of humour and ridicule, it has a great deal of point, for it, pomp<-usly introduces an angel in the figure of a man, with a drawn sword in hia hand, before whom Joshua falls on his face to the earth, and worships, (which is contrary to their second commandment ;) and then, this most, important embassy from heaven ends, in telling Joshua to pull off his shoe. It might as well have told him to pull up his breeches. It is certain, however, that the Jews did not credit everything their leaders told them, as appears from the cavalier manner in which they speak of Moses, when he was gone into the mount. "As for this Moses, say they, we wot not what is become of him." "Exod. chap. x. xxii. ver. 1. PART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 99 The wri'.er b'igins his enrolment in the following manner : — chap. ii. ver. 3, " The children of Parosh, two thousand one hun- dred seventy and four." Verse 4, " The children of Shephatiah, three hundred seventy and two." And in this manner he pro- ceeds through all the families ; and in the 64th verse, he makes a total, and says, the whole congregation together wns forty and two thousand three hundred and threescore. But whoever will take the trouble of casting up the several particulars, will find that the total is but 29,818 ; so that the error is 12,542.* What certainty then can there be in the Bible for any thing 1 Nehemiah, in like manner, gives a list of the returned families, and of the number of each family. He begins as in Ezra, by say- ing, chap. vii. ver. 8, " The children of Parosh, two thousand three hundred and seventy-two ;" and so on through all the fami- lies. The list differs in several of the particulars from that of Ezra. In the 66th verse, Nehemiah makes a total, and says, as Ezra had said, " The whole congregation together was forty and two thousand three hundred and three score." But the particu- lars of this list make a total but of 31,089, so that the error here is 11,271. These writers may do well enough for Bible-makers, but not for any thing where truth and exactness is necessary. The next book in course is the book of Esther. If Madam Esther thought it any honour to offer herself as a kept mistress to Ahasue- rus, or as a rival to Queen Vashti, who had refused to come to a drunken king, in the midst of a drunken company, to be made a show of, (for the account says, they had been drinking seven days, and were merry,) let Esther and Mordecai look to that, it is no business of ours ; at least, it is none of mine ; besides which the * Particulars of the Families from the second chapter of Ezra. Bro't forw. 11,577| Bro't forw. 15,783| Bro't forw. 19.444 Chap. ii. Verses 3 I 2172 4 372 5 775 6 2812 7 1254 8 945 9 760 10 642 11 623 12 1222 11,577 Ver. 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 2056 454 98 323 112 223 95 123 56 15,783 Ver. 23 24 128 42 743 621 122 223 52 156 1254 320 19,444 Ver. 33 725 34 345 35 3630 36 973 37 1052 38 1247 39 1017 40 74 41 128 42 139 58 392 60 652 Total. 29,818 100 THE AGE OF REASON. [PABT 11. story has a great deal the appearance of being fabulous, and is also anonymous. I pass on to the book of Job. The book of Job differs in character from all the books we have hitherto passed over. Treachery and murder make no part of this book ; it is the meditations of a mind strongly impressed with the vicissitudes of human life, and by turns sinking under, and struggling against the pressure. It is a highly wrought composi- tion, between willing submission and involuntary discontent ; and shows man, as he sometimes is, more disposed to be resigned than he is capable of being. Patience has but a small share in the character of the person of whom the book treats ; on the contrary, his grief is often impetuous ; but he still endeavours to keep a guard upon it, and seems determined, in the midst of accumulat- ing ills, to impose upon himself the hard duty of contentment. I have spoken in a respectful manner of the book of Job in the former part of the Age of Reason, but without knowing at that time what I have learned since ; which is, that from all the evidence that can be collected, the book of Job does not belong to the Bible. I have seen the opinion of two Hebrew commentators, Abe- nezra and Spinoza, upon this subject ; they both say that the book of Job carries no internal evidence of being an Hebrew book ; that the genius of the composition, and the drama of the piece, are not Hebrew ; that it has been translated from another language into Hebrew, and that the author of the book was a Gentile ; that the character represented under the name of Satan (which is the first and only time this name is mentioned in the Bible) does not correspond to any Hebrew idea ; and that the two convocations which the Deity is supposed to have made of those, whom the poem calls sons of God, and the familiarity which this supposed Satan is stated to have with the Deity, are in the same case. It may also be observed, that the book shows itself to be the production of a mind cultivated in science, which the Jews, so far from being famous for, were very ignorant of. The allusions to objects of natural philosophy are frequent and strong, and are of a different cast to any thing in the books known to be Hebrew. The astronomical names, Pleiades, Orion, and Arcturus, are Greek, and not Hebrew names, and as it does not appear from any thing that is to be found in the Bible, that the Jews knew any thing of astronomy, or that they studied it, they had no translation TART n.J THE AGE OF REASON. Wl of those names into their own language, but adopted the names as they found them in the poem. That the Jews did translate the literary productions of the Gen- tile nations into the Hebrew language, and mix them with their own, is not a matter of doubt ; the thirty-first chapter of Proverbs is an evidence of this ; it is there said, ver. 1, Tht xoord of king Lemuel, the prophecy tohich his mother taught him. This verse stands as a preface to the proverbs that follow, and which are not the proverbs of Solomon but of Lemuel ; and this Lemuel was not one of the kings of Israel, nor of Judah, but of some other country, and consequently a Gentile. The Jews, however, have adopted his proverbs, and as they cannot give any account who the author of the book of Job was, or how they came by the book ; and as it differs in character from the Hebrew writings, and stands totally unconnected with every other book and chapter in the Bible, before it, and after it, it has all the circumstantial evidence of being originally a book of the Gentiles.* The Bible-makers, and those regulators of time, the Chronolo- gists, appear to have been at a loss where to place, and how to dispose of the book of Job ; for it contains no one historical cir- cumstance, nor allusion to any, that might serve to determine its place in the Bible. But it would not have answered the purpose of these men to have informed the world of their ignorance ; and, therefore, they have affixed it to the sera of 1520 years before Christ which is during the time the Israelites were in Egypt, and for which they have just as much authority and no more than I should have for saying it was a thousand years before that period. The probability, however, is, that it is older than any book in the * The prayer known by the name of ^gur''s Prayer, in the 30th chapter o( proverbs, immediately preceding the proverbs of Lemuel, and which is the only sensible, well-conceived, and well-expressed prayer in the Bible, has much the appearance of being a prayer taken from the Gentiles. The name of Agur occurs on no other occasion than this; and he is introduced, together with the prayer ascribed to him, in the same manner, and nearly in the same words, that Lemuel and his proverbs are introduced in the chapter that follows. The first verse of the 30th chapter says, " The words of Agur, the son of Ja- keh, even the prophecy ;" here the word prophecy is used with the same ap- plication it has in the following chapter of Lemuel, unconnected with any thing of prediction. The prayer of Agur is in the 8th and 9th verses, "Remove far from mc vanity and lies ; give me neither riches rior poverty, but feed me with food convenient for me; lest I befall and deny thee, and say, IVho is the Lord ! or lest I be poor and steal, and take the name of my God in vain." This has not any of the marks of being a Jewish prayer, for the Jews never prayed but when they were in trouble, and never for any thing but victory, vengeance, and riches. 102 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART II. Bible ; and it is the only one that can be read without indignation or disgust. We know nothing of what the ancient Gentile world (as it is called) was before the time of the Jews, whose practice has been to calumniate and blacken the character of all other nations ; and it is from the Jewish accounts that we have learned to call them heathens. But, as far as we know to the contrary, they were a just and moral people, and not addicted, like the Jews, to cruelty and revenge, but of whose profession of faith Ave are unacquainted. It appears to have been their custom to personify both virtue and vice by statues and images, as is done now-a-days both by sta- tuary and by painting ; but it does not follow from this, that they worshipped them any more than we do. I pass on to the book of Psalms, of which it is not necessary to make much observation. Some of them are moral, and others are very revengeful ; and the greater part relates to certain local circumstances of the Jewish nation at the time they were written, with which we have nothing to do. It is, however, an error or an imposition to call them the Psalms of David : they are a collection, as song-books are now-a-days, from different song-writers, who lived at different times. The 137th Psalm could not have been written till more than 400 years after the time of David, because it is written in commemoration of an event, the captivity of the Jews in Babylon, which did not happen till that distance of time. " By the rivers of Babylon we sat doivn ; yea, we ivept when ive remembered Zion. We hanged our harps upon the willows, in the midst thereof; for there they that carried us away captive, required of us a song, saying, sing us one of the songs of Zion." As a man would say to an American, or to a Frenchman, or to an Englishman, sing us one of your American songs, or your French songs, or your English songs. This remark with respect to the time this Psalm was written, is of no other use than to show (among others already mentioned) the general imposition the world has been under, with respect to the authors of the Bible. No regard has been paid to time, place, and circumstance ; and the names ot persons have been affixed to the several books, which it was as impossible they should write, as that a man should walk in pro- cession at his own funeral. The Book of Proverbs. These, like the Psalms, are a collec- tion, and that from authors belonging to other nations than those PART Il.J THE AGE OF REASON. 103 of the Jewish nation, as I have shown in the observations upon the book of Job ; besides which, some of the proverbs ascribed to Solomon, did not appear till two hundred and fifty years after the death of Solomon ; for it is said in the 1st verse of the 25th chapter, " These are also proverbs of Solomon, which the men of Hezehiah, king of Judah, copied out." It was two hundred and fifty years from the time of Solomon to the time of Hezekiah. "When a man is famous and his name is abroad, he is made the putative father of things he never said or did ; and this, most probably, has been the case with Solomon. It appears to have been the fashion of that day to make proverbs, as it is now to make jest-books, and father them upon those who never saw them. The Book of Ecclesiastes, or the Preacher, is also ascribed to Solomon, and that with much reason, if not with truth. It is writ- ten as the solitary reflections of a worn-out debauchee, such as Solomon was, who looking back on scenes he can no longer enjoy, cries out, Jill is vanilij! A great deal of the metaphor and of the sentiment is obscure, most probably by translation ; but enough is left to show they were strongly pointed in the original.* From what is transmitted to us of the character of Solomon, he was witty, ostentatious, dissolute, and at last melancholy. He lived fast, and died, tired of the world, at the age of fifty-eight years. Seven hundred wives, and three hundred concubines, are worse than none ; and, however it may carry with it the appearance of heightened enjoyment, it defeats all the felicity of affection, by leaving it no point to fix upon ; divided love is never happy. This was the case with Solomon ; and if he could not, with all his pre- tensions to wisdom, discover it beforehand, he merited, unpitied, the mortification he afterwards endured. In this point of view, his preaching is unnecessary, because, to know the consequences, it is only necessary to know the cause. Seven hundred wives, and three hundred concubines, would have stood in place of the whole book. It was needless after this to say, that all was vanity and vexation of spirit ; for it is impossible to derive happiness from the company of those whom we deprive of happiness. To be happy in old age, it is necessary that we accustom our- selves to objects that can accompany the mind all the way through life, and that we take the rest as good in their day. The mere ♦ Those that look out oj the window shall be darkened, is an obscure figure in translation for loss of sight. 104 THE AGE OP REASON. [PART 11. man of pleasure is miserable in old age ; and the mere drudge in business is but little better : whereas, natural philosophy, mathe- matical and mechanical science, are a continual source of tranquil pleasure ; and in spite of the gloomy dogmas of priests, and of superstition, the study of those things is the study of the true theology ; it teaches man to know and to admire the Creator, for the principles of science are in the creation, and are unchange- able, and of divine origin. Those who knew Benjamin Franklin will recollect, that his mind was ever young ; his temper ever serene : science, that never grows grey, was always his mistress. He was never with- out an object, for when we cease to have an object, we become Hke an invalid in an hospital Availing for death. Solomon's Songs are amorous and foolish enough, but whic. wrinkled fanaticism has called divine. The compilers of the Bible have placed these songs after the book of Ecclesiastes ; and the Chronologists have afRxed to them the sera of 1014 years be- fore Christ, at which time Solomon, according to the same chro- nology, was nineteen years of age, and was then forming his seraglio of wives and concubines. The Bible-makers and the Chronologists should have managed this matter a little better, and either have said nothing about the time, or chosen a time less in- consistent with the supposed divinity of those songs ; for Solomon was then in the honey-moon of one thousand debaucheries. It should also have occurred to them, that as he wrote, if he did write, the book of Ecclesiastes, long after these songs, and in which he exclaims, that all is vanity and vexation of spirit ; that he included those songs in that description. This is the more probable, because he says, or somebody for him, Ecclesiastes, chap. ii. v. 8, " I got me men singers, and icomen singers, (most probably to sing those songs,) mid tnusical instrumenls of all sorts ; and behold (ver. 11,) all was vanity and vexation of spirit * The compilers, however, have done their work but by halves ; for as they have given us the songs, they should have given us the tunes, that we might sing them. The books, called the books of the Prophets, fill up all the remaining parts of the Bible ; they are sixteen in number, begin- ning with Isaiah, and ending with Malachi, of which I. have given you a list in my observations upon Chronicles. Of these sixteen prophets, all of whom, except the three last, lived within the time TJiKT II.] THE AGE OP REASON. 105 the books of Kings and Chronicles were written ; two only, Isaiah and Jeremiah, are mentioned in the history of those books. I shall begin with those two, reserving what I have to say on the general character of the men called prophets to another part of the work. Whoever will take the trouble of reading the book ascribed to Isaiah, will find it one of the most wild and disorderly composi- tions ever put together ; it has neither beginning, middle, nor end; and, except a short historical part, and a few sketches of history in two or three of the first chapters, is one continued incoherent, bombastical rant, full of extravagant metaphor, without application, and destitute of meaning; a school-boy would scarcely have been excusable for writing such stuff; it is (at least in the translation) that kind of composition and false taste, that is properly called prose run mad. The historical part begins at the 36th chapter, and is continued to the end of the 39th chapter. It relates to some matters that are said to have passed during the reign of Hezekiah, king of Judah, at which time Isaiah lived. This fragment of history begins and ends abruptly ; it has not the least connection Avith the chapter that precedes it, nor with that which follows it, nor with any other in the book. It is probable that Isaiah wrote this frag- ment himself, because he was an actor in the circumstances it treats of; but, except this part, there are scarcely two chapters that have any connection with each other ; one is entitled, at the beginning of the first verse, the burden of Babylon ; another, the burden of Moab ; another, the burden of Damascus ; another, the burden of Egypt ; another, the burden of the Desart of the Sea ; another, the burden of the Valley of Vision ; as you would say, the story of the knight of the burning mountain, the story of Cin- derella, or the children of the wood, &c. &c. I have already shown, in the instance of the two last verses of Chronicles, and the three first in Ezra, that the compilers of the Bible mixed and confounded the writings of different authors with each other, which alone, were there no other cause, is sufficient to destroy the authenticity of any compilation, because it is more than presumptive evidence that the compilers are ignorant who the authors were. A very glaring instance of this occurs in the book ascribed to Isaiah, the latter part of the 44th chapter, and the beginning of the 45th, so far from having been written b/ U 106 THE AGE OP REASON. [PARt lU Isaiah, could only have been written by some person who lived, at least, an hundred an fifty years after Isaiah was dead. These chapters are a compliment to Cyi-us, who permitted the Jews to return to Jerusalem from the Babylonian captivity, to rebuild Jerusalem and the temple, as is stated in Ezra. The last verse of the 44th chapter, and the beginning of the 45th, are in the following words : " That saith of Cyrus, he is my shepherd, and shall perform all my jyleasure; even saying to Jerusalem, thou shall be built ; and to the temple thy foundations shall be laid : thus saith the Lord to his annointed, to Cyrus, whose right hand I have holden to subdue nations before him, and I ivill loose the loins of kings to open before him the two-leaved gates, and the gates shall not be shut; I will go before thee, ^-c." What audacity of church and priestly ignorance it is to impose this book upon the world as the writing of Isaiah, when Isaian, according to their own chronology, died soon after the death of Hezekiah, which was 698 years before Christ ; and the decree ot Cyrus, in favour of the Jews returning to Jerusalem, was, accord- ing to the same chronology, 536 years before Christ ; which was a distance of time between the two of 162 years. I do not sup- pose that the compilers of the Bible made these books, but rather that they picked up some loose, anonymous essays, and put them together under the name of such authors as best suited their pur- pose. They have encouraged the imposition, which is next to inventing it ; for it was impossible but they must have observed it. When we see the studied craft of the scripture-makers, in mak- ing every part of this romantic book of school-boy's eloquence, bend to the monstrous idea of a Son of God, begotten by a ghost on the body of a virgin, there is no imposition we are not justified in suspecting them of. Every phrase and circumstance are marked with the barbarous hand of superstitious torture, and forced into meanings it was impossible they could have. The head of every chapter, and the top of every page, are blazoned with the names of Christ and the church, that the unwary reader might suck in the error before he began to read. Behold a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, Isaiah, chap. \ii. ver. 14, has been interpreted to mean the person called Jesus Christ, and his mother Maiy, and has been echoed through Christ- endom for more than a thousand years ; and such has been the rage of this opinion, that scarcely a spot in it but has been stained PART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 107 with blood and marked with desolation in consequence of it. Though it is not my intention to enter into controversy on subjects of this kind, but to confine myself to show that the Bible is spuri- ous ; and thus, by taking away the foundation, to overthrow at once the whole structure of superstition raised thereon ; I will, however, stop a moment, to expose the fallacious application of this passage. Whether Isaiah was playing a trick with Ahaz, king of Judah, to whom this passage is spoken, is no business of mine ; I mean only to show the misapplication of the passage, and that it has no more reference to Christ and his mother than it has to me and my mother. The story is simply this : The king of Syria and the king of Israel (I have already men- tioned that the Jews were split into two nations, one of which was called Judah, the capital of which was Jerusalem, and the other Israel) made war jointly against Ahaz, king of Judah, and marched their armies towards Jerusalem. Ahaz and his people became alarmed, and the account says, ver. 2, " Their hearts were movea as the trees of the wood are moved with the tfind." In this situation of things, Isaiah addresses himself to Ahaz, and assures him in the name of the Lord (the cant phrase of all the prophets) that these two kings should not succeed against him ; and to satisfy Ahaz that this should be the case, tells him to ask a sign. This, the account says, Ahaz declined doing ; giving as a reason that he would not tempt the Lord ; upon which Isaiah, who is the speaker, says, ver. 14, "Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign ; behold a virgin shall conceive and hear a son ;" and the 16th verse says, '■'■ And before this child shall know to refuse the evil, and chuse the good, the land which thou abhorrcst or dreadest (meaning Syria and the kingdom of Israel) shall be forsaken of both her kings." Here then was the sign, and the time limited for the completion of the assurance or promise ; namely, before this child should know to refuse the evil and chuse the good. Isaiah having committed himself thus far, it became necessary to him, in order to avoid the imputation of being a false prophet, and the consequence thereof, to take measures to make this sign appear. It certainly was not a difficult thing, in any time of the world, to find a girl with child, or to make her so ; and perhaps Isaiah knew of one before-hand ; for I do not suppose Uiat the 108 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART 1% prophets of that day were any more to be trusted than the priesta of this : be that, however, as it may, he says in the next chapter, ver. 2, " And I took unto me faithful witnesses to record, Uriah the priest, and Zechariah the son of Jeberechiah, and / went unto the prophetess, and she conceived and bare a son.^^ Here then is the whole story, foolish as it is, of this child and this virgin ; and it is upon the bare-faced perversion of this story, that the book of Matthew, and the impudence and sordid interests of priests in latter times, have founded a theory which they call the gospel ; and have applied this story to signify the person they call Tesus Christ ; begotten, they say, by a ghost, whom they call holy, on the body of a woman, engaged in marriage, and after- wards married, whom they call a virgin, 700 years after this fool- ish story was told ; a theory which, speaking for myself, I hesitate not to believe, and to say, is as fabulous and false as God IS true.* But to show the imposition and falsehood of Isaiah, we have only to attend to the sequel of this story ; which, though it is passed over in silence ia the book of Isaiah, is related in the 28th chapter of the second Chronicles ; and which is, that instead of these two kings -failing in their attempt against Ahaz, king of Judah, as Isaiah had pretended to foretel in the name of the Lord, they succeeded; Ahaz was defeated and destroyed ; an hundred and twenty thousand of his people were slaughtered ; Jerusalem was plundered, and two hundred thousand women, and sons and daughters, carried into captivity. Thus much for this lying pro- phet and impostor Isaiah, and the book of falsehoods that bears his name. I pass on to the book of Jeremiah. This prophet, as he is called, lived in the time thaf Nebuchadnezzar besieged Jerusalem, in the reign of Zedekiah, the last king of Judah ; and the suspicion was strong against him, that he was a traitor in the interest of Nebuchadnezzar. Every thing relating to Jeremiah shows him to have been a man of an equivocal character : in his metaphor of the potter and the clay, c. xviii. he guards his prognostications in such a crafty manner, as always to leave himself a door to escape by, in case the event should be contrary to what he had predicted. * In the 14lh verse of the viith chapter, it is said, that the child should be called Immanuel ; but this name was not given to either of the children, other- wise than as a character which the word signifies. Thut of the prophetess was called Maher-shalal-hash-baz, and that of Mary was called Jesus. PART n.] THE AGE OF REASON. 109 In the 7th and 8th verses of that chapter, he makes the Al mighty to say, " At what instant I shall speak concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to pluck up, and to pull down, and destroy it : if that nation, against whom I have pronounced, turn from their evil, I will repent me of the evil that I thought to do unto them." Here was a proviso against one side of the case : now for the other side. Verses 9 and 10, " At what instant I shall speak concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to build and to plant it, if it do evil in my sight, that it obey not my voice : then I will repent me of the good wherewith I said I would benefit them." Here is a proviso against the other side ; and, according to this plan of pro- phesying, a prophet could never be wrong, however mistaken the Almighty might be. This sort of absurd subterfuge, and this manner of speaking of the Almighty, as one would speak of a man, is consistent with nothing but the stupidity of the Bible. As to the authenticity of the book, it is only necessary to read it in order to decide positively, that, though some passages record- ed therein may have been spoken by Jeremiah, he is not the au- thor of the book. The historical parts, if they can be called by that name, are in the most confused condition ; the same events are several times repeated, and that in a manner different, and some- times in contradiction to each other ; and this disorder runs even to the last chapter, where the history, upon which the greater part of the book has been employed, begins a-new, and ends abruptly. The book has all the appearance of being a medley of unconnect- ed anecdotes, respecting persons and things of that time, collected together in the same rude manner as if the various and contradic- tory accounts, that are to l>e found in a bundle of newspapers, re- specting persons and things of the present day, were put together without date, order or explanation. I will give two or three ex- amples of this kind. It appears, from the account of the 37th chapter, that the army of Nebuchadnezzar, which is called the army of the Chaldeans, had besieged Jerusalem some time ; and on their hearing that the army of Pharaoh, of Egypt, was marching against them, they raised the seige, and retreated for a time. It may here be proper to mention, in order to understand this confused history, that Ne- buchadnezzar had besieged and taken Jerusalem, during the reign of Jehoakim, the predecessor of Zedekiah ; and that it was Nebu- no THE AGE OF REASON. [PART II chadnezzar who had made Zedekiah king, or rather viceroy ; and that this second siege, of which the book of Jeremiah treats, was in consequence of the revolt of Zedekiah against Nebuchadnez- zar. This will in some measure account for the suspicion that affixes itself to Jeremiah, of being a traitor, and in the interest of Nebuchadnezzar ; whom Jeremiah calls, in the 43rd chap. ver. 10, the servant of God. The nth verse of this chapter, (the 37th,) says, " And it came to pass, that, when the army of the Chaldeans was broken up from Jerusalem, for fear of Pharaoh's army, that Jeremiah went forth out of Jerusalem, to go (as this account states) into the land of Benjamm, to separate himself thence in the midst of the people ; and when he was in the gate of Benjamin a captain of the ward was there, whose name was Irijah ; and he took Jeremiah the prophet, saying. Thou fullest away to the Chaldeans ; then Jere- miah said. It is false, I fall not away to the Chaldeans." Jeremiah being thus stopped and accused, was, after being examined, com- mitted to prison, on suspicion of being a traitor, where he re- mained, as is stated in the last verse of this chapter. But the next chapter gives an account of the imprisonment of Jeremiah, which has no connexion with this account, but ascribes his imprisonment to another circumstance, and for which we must go back to the 21st chapter. It is there stated, ver. l,that Zede- kiah sent Pashur, the son of Malchiah, and Zephaniah, the son of Maaseiah the priest, to Jeremiah, to enquire of him concerning Nebuchadnezzar, whose army was then before Jenisalem ; and Jeremiah said to them, ver. 8, " Thus saith the Lord, Behold I set before you the way of life, and the way of death ; he that abideth in this city shall die by the sword, and by the famine, and by the pestilence ; but he that goeth out and falleth to the Chaldeans that besiege you, he shall live, and his life shall be unto him for a prey." This interview and conference breaks off abruptly at the end of the 10th verse of the 21st chapter ; and such is the disorder of this book, that we have to pass over sixteen chapters, upon vai ious subjects, in order to come at the continuation and event of this conference ; and this brings us to the first verse of the 3Sth chap- ter, as I have just mentioned. The 38th chapter opens with saying, " Then Shapatiah, the son of Mattan ; Gedaliah, the son of Pashur ; and Jucal, the son of PART II.] THE AGE Of REASON. Ill Shelemiah ; and Pashur, the son of Malchiah ; (here are more persons mentioned than in the 21st chapter,) heard the words that Jeremiah spoke unto the people, saying, Thus saith the Lord, He that remainelh in this cifrj, shall die by the sicord, by the famine, and by the pestilence ; but he that goeth forth to the Chaldeans shall live ; for he shall have his life for a prey, and shall live ; (which are the words of the conference,) therefore, (say they to Zedekiah,) We beseech thee, let us put this man to death, /or thus he iveakeneth the hands of the men of war that remain in this city, and the hands of all the people in speaking such words tmto them ; for this man seeketh not the welfare of the people, btit the hurt ;" and at the 6th verse it is said, " Then they took Jeremiah, and put him into a dungeon of Malchiah." These two accounts are different and contradictory. The one ascribes his imprisonment to his attempt to escape out of the city ; the other to his preaching and prophesying in the city : the one to his being seized by the guard at the gate ; the other to his being accused before Zedekiah, by the conferees.* In the next chapter (the 39th) we have another instance of the disordered state of this book : for notwithstanding the siege of the * I observed two chapters, 16th and 17th, in the first book of Samuel, that contradict each other with respect to David, and the manner he became ac- quainted with Saul ; as tlie 37th and 38th chapters of the book of Jeremiah contradict each other \vith respect to the cause of Jeremiah's imprisonment. In the 16th chapter of Samuel, it is said, that an evil spirit of God troubled Saul, and that his servants advised him (as a remedy) "to seek out a man who was a cunning player upon the harp." And Saul said, ver. 1 7, " Provide now a man that can play well, and brioghim unto me." Then answered one of his servants, and said. Behold, I have seen a son of Jesse, the Bethlemite, that is cunning in playing, and a mighty man, and a man of war, and prudent in mat- ters, and a comely person, and the Lord is with him ; wherefore Saul sent messengers unto Jesse, and said, " Send me David, thy son." And [verse 21] David came to Saul, and stood before him, and he loved him greatly, and he became his armour-bearer ; and when tlie evil spirit of God was upon Saul, [verse 23] David took his harp, and played with his hand, and Saul was re freshed, and was well. But the next chapter [17] gives an account, all different to this, of the man- ner that Saul and David became acquainted. Here it is ascribed to David's encounter with Goliah, when David was sent by his father to carry provision to his brethren in the camp. In the 55th verse of this chapter it is said, " And when Saul saw David go forth against the Philistine [Goliah] he said to Abner, the captain of the host, Abner, whose son is this youth ? And Abner said, As thy soul liveth, king, I cannot tell. And the king said, Inquire thou whose son the stripling is. And as David returned from the slaughter of the Piiilisline, Abner took him and brought him before Saul, with the head of the Philistine in his hand ; and Saul said unto him, Whose son art thou, thou voung man? And David answered, "I am the son of thy servant Jesse, the Bethlemite." These two accounts belie each othc^r, because each of them supposes Saul and David not to have known each other before. This book, the Bible, is too ridiculous even for criticism. 112 THt AGE OP REASON. [PART 11. city, by Nebuchadnezzar, has been the subject of several of the preceding chapters, particularly the 37th and 3Sth, the 39 chap- ter begins as if not a word had been said upon the subject ; and as if the reader was to be informed of every particular respecting it ; for it begins with saying, ver. 1, " In the ninth year of Zedekiah^ king ofJudah, in the tenth month, came JS'ebtichadnezzar, king oj Babylon, an^l all his army, against Jerusalem, and besieged it, i^c. But the instance in the last chapter (the 52d) is still more glar. ing ; for though the story has been told over and over again, this chapter still supposes the reader not to know any thing of it, for it begins by saying, ver. 1,'^^Zedekiah teas one and twenty years old when he began to reign, and he reigned eleven years in Jerusalem, and his mothei'^s name was Hamutal, the daughter of Jeremiah of lAbnah, (ver. 4.) and it came to pass in the ninth year of his reign, in the tenth month, that JVebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, came, he and all his army, against Jerusalem, and pitched against it, and built forts against it, <^c. c^-c." It is not possible that any one man, and more particularly Jere- miah, could have been the writer of this book. The errors are such as could not have been committed by any person sitting down to compose a work. Were I, or any other man, to write in such a disordered manner, nobody would read what was written ; and every body would suppose that the writer was in a state of insanity. Tbo only way, therefore, to account for this disorder, is, that the book is a medley of detached unauthenticated anecdotes, put together by some stupid book-maker, under the name of Jere- miah ; because many of them refer to him, and to the circum- stances of the times he lived in. Of the duplicity, and of the false predictions of Jeremiah, I shall mention two instances, and then proceed to review the remainder of the Bible. It appears from the 3Sth chapter, that when Jeremiah was in prison, Zedekiah sent for him, and at this interview, which was private, Jeremiah pressed it strongly on Zedekiah to surrender himself to the enemy. " //"," says he, (ver. 17,) " thouwilt assuredly go forth unto the king of Babylon'' s princes, then thy soul shall live, ^c." Zedekiah was apprehensive that what passed at this con- ference should be known ; and he said to Je^-emiah, (ver. 25,) "If the princes (meaning those of Judah) hear that I have talked PART U.] THE AGE OF REASON. 113 with thee, and they come unto thee, and say unto thee, Declare unto us now what thou hast said unto the king ; hide it not from us, and we will not put thee to death ; and also what the king said unto thee ; then thou shalt say unto them, I presented my suppli- cation before the king ; that he would not cause me to return to Jonathan's house to die there. Then came all the princes unto Jeremiah, and asked him, and he told them according to all the toords the king had commanded.^^ Thus, this man of God, as he is called, could tell a lie, or very strongly prevaricate, when he supposed it would answer his purpose ; for certainly he did not go to Zedekiah to make his supplication, neither did he make it ; he went because he was sent for, and he employed that opportunity to advise Zedekiah to surrender himself to Nebuchadnezzar. In the 34th chapter, is a prophecy of Jeremiah to Zedekiah, in these words, (ver. 2,) " Thus saith the Lord, Behold I will give this city into the hands of the king of Babylon, and he will burn it with fire ; and thou shalt not escape out of his hand, but that thou shalt surely be taken, and delivered into his hand ; and thine eyes shall behold the eyes of the king of Babylon, and he shall speak with thee mouth to mouth, and thou shalt go to Babylon. Yet hear the word of the Lord ; Zedekiah, king of Judah, thus saith the Lord, Thou shalt not die by the sword, hut thou shalt die in peace ; and with the burnings of thy fathers, the fonner kings that were before thee, so shall they burn odours for thee, and they xoill lament thee, satjing, Jih, Lord ; for I have pronounced the word, saith the Lord." Now, instead of Zedekiah beholding the eyes of the king of Babylon, and speaking with him mouth to mouth, and dying in peace, and with the burning of odours, as at the funeral of his fathers, (as Jeremiah had declared the Lord himself had pronounced,) the reverse, according to the 52d chapter, Avas the case ; it is there said, (ver. 10,) " That the king of Babylon slew the sons of Zedekiah before his eyes : then he put out the eyes of Zedekiah, and bound him in chains, and carried him to Babylon, and put him in prison till the day of his death." What then can we say of these prophets, but that they are impostors and liars ? As for Jeremiah, he experienced none of those evils. He was taken into favour by Nebuchadnezzar, who gave him in charge to the captain of the guard, (chap, xxxix. ver. 12,) "Take him (said 15 114 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART If. he) and look well to him, and do him no harm ; but do unto him even as he shall say unto thee." Jeremiah joined himself after- wards to Nebuchadnezzar, and went about prophesying for him against the Egyptians, who had marched to the relief of Jerusa- lem while it was besieged. Thus much for another of the lying prophets, and the book that bears his name. I have been the more particular in treating of the books ascribed to Isaiah and Jeremiah, because those two are spoken of in the books of Kings and of Chronicles, which the others are not. Tho remainder of the books ascribed to the men called prophets, I shall not trouble myself much about ; but take them collectively into the observations I shall offer on the character of the men styled prophets. In the former part oi the Age of Reason, I have said that the word prophet was the Bible word for poet, and that the flights and metaphors of Jewish poets have been foolishly erected into what are now called prophecies. I am sufficiently justified in this opmion, not only because the books called the prophecies are written in poetical language, but because there is no word in the Bible, except it be the word prophet, that describes what we mean by a poet. I have also said, that the word signifies a performer upon musical instruments, of which I have given some instances; such as that of a company of prophets prophesying with psalteries, with tabrets, with pipes, with harps, &c. and that Saul prophesied with them, 1 Sam. chap. x. ver. 5. It appears from this passage, and from other parts in the book of Samuel, that the word prophet was confined to signify poetry and music ; for the person who was supposed to have a visionary insight into concealed things, was not a prophet but a seer,* (1 Sam. chap. ix. ver. 9 ;) and it -was not till after the word seer went out of use (which most pro- bably was when Saul banished those he called wizards) that the profe«eion of the seer, or the art of seeing, became incorporated into the word prophet. According to the modern meaning of the word prophet and pro- phesying, it signifies foretelling events to a great distance of time ; and it became necessary to the inventors of the gospel to give it this latitude of meaning, in order to apply or to stretch what they « I know not what is the Hebrew word that corresponds to the word seer m English ; but 1 observe it is translated into French by La Voyant, from the verb voir to see; and which means the person who sees, or the seer. PART II.] THE AGE OF REASON- 115 call the prophecies of the Old Testament, to the times of the New; but according to the Old Testament, the prophesying of the seer, and afterwards of the prophet, so far as the meaning of the word seer was incorporated into that of prophet, had reference only to things of the time then passing, or very closely connected with it ; such as the event of a battle they were going to engage in, or of a journey, or of any enterprise they were going to undertake, or of any circumstance then pending, or of any difficulty they were then in ; all of which had immediate reference to themselves (as in the case already mentioned of Ahaz and Isaiah with respect to the expression. Behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a son,) and not to any distant future time. It was that kind of prophesying that corresponds to what we call fortune-telling ; such as casting nativities, predicting riches, fortunate or unfortunate marriages, conjuring for lost goods, &c.; and it is the fraud of the Christian church, not that of the Jews ; and the ignorance and the supersti- tion of modern, not that of ancient times, that elevated those poet- ical — musical — conjuring — dreaming — strolling gentry, into the rank they have since had. But, besides this general character of all the prophets, they had also a particular character. They were in parties, and they pro- phesied for or against, according to the party they were with ; as the poetical and political writers of the present day write in defence of the party they associate with against the other. After the Jews were divided into two nations, that of Judah and that of Israel, each party had its prophets, who abused and accused each other of being false prophets, lying prophets, impostors, &c. The prophets of the party of Judah prophesied against the pro- phets of the party of Israel ; and those of the party of Israel against those of Judah. This party prophesying showed itself immediately on the separation under the first two rival kings, Rehoboam and Jeroboam. The prophet that cursed, or prophesied against the altar that Jeroboam had built in Bethel, was of the party of Judah, where Rehoboam was king ; and he was way -laid, on his return home, by a prophet of the party of Israel, who said unto him, (1 Kings chap, x.) " ^rt thou the man of God that came from Judah ? and he said, 1 am." Then the prophet of the party of Israel said to him, '■*■ 1 am a prophet also, as thou art^ (signifying of Judah,) and an angel spake unto me by the word of 116 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART II. the Lord, saying, Bring him back with thee unto thine house, that he may eat bread and drink water : but (says the 18th verse) he lied unto him.'''' This event, however, according to the story, is, that the prophet of Judah never got back to Judah, for he was found dead on the road, by the contrivance of the prophet of Israel, who, no doubt, was called a true prophet by his own party, and the prophet of Judah a lying prophet. In the third chapter of the second of Kings, a story is related of prophesying or conjuring, that shows, in several particulars, the character of a prophet. Jehoshaphat, king of Judah, and Joram, king of Israel, had for a while ceased their party animosity, and entered into an alliance ; and these two, together with the king of Edom, engaged in a war against the king of Moab. After uniting, and marching their armies, the story says, they were in great distress for water, upon which Jehoshaphat, said, " Is there not here a prophet of the Lord, that we may enquire of the Lord by him ? and one of the servants of the king of Israel said here is Eli- sha. (Elisha was of the party of Judah.) And Jehoshaphat, the king of Judah, said. The word of the Lord is with him.^^ The story then says, that these three kings went down to Elisha ; and when Ehsha (who, as I have said, was a Judahmite prophet) saw the king of Israel, he said unto him, " What have I to do with thee, get thee to the prophets of thy father and the prophets oj thy mother. JYay but, said the king of Israel, the Lord hath called these three kings together, to deliver them into the hands of the king of M.oab,''' (meaning because of the distress they were in for water ;) upon which Elisha said, " As the Lord of hosts liveth before whom I stand, surely, were it not that I regarded Je hoshaphat, king of Judah, I would not look towards thee, nor see thee.^^ Here is all the venom and vulgarity of a party prophet. — We have now to see the performance, or manner of prophesying. Ver. 15. " Bring me,'' said Elisha, " a minstrel; and it came to pass, when the minstrel played, that the hand of the Lord came upon himJ' Here is the farce of the conjuror. Now for the pro- phecy : " And Elisha said, (singing most probably to the tunc he was playing,) Thus saith the Lord, Make this valley full oj ditches i*^ which was just telling them what every countryman could have told them, without either fiddle or farce, that the way to get water was to dig for it. But as every conjuror is not famous alike for the same thing PART 11 ] THE AGE OF REASON. 117 SO neither were those prophets ; for though all of them, at least those I have spoken of, were famous for lying, some of them ex- celled in cursing. Elisha, whom I have just mentioned, was a chief in this branch of prophesying ; it was he that cursed the forty-two children in the name of the Lord, whom the two she-bears came and devoured. We are to suppose that those children were of the party of Israel ; but as those who will curse will lie, there is just as much credit to be given to this story of Elisha's two she-bears as there is to that of the Dragon of Wantley, of whom it is said. — Poor children three devoured he, That could not with him grapple ; And at one sup he eat them up, As a man would eat an apple. There was another description of men called prophets, that amused themselves with dreams and visions ; but whether by night or by day, we know not. These, if they were not quite harmless, were but little mischievous. Of this class are Ezekiel and Daniel ; and the first question upon those books, as upon all the others, is, are they genuine 1 that is, were they written by Ezekiel and Daniel ? Of this there is no proof; but so far as my own opinion goes, I am more inclined to believe they were, than that they were not. My reasons for this opinion are as follow : First, Because those books do not contain internal evidence to prove they were not writ- ten by Ezekiel and Daniel, as the books ascribed to Moses, Joshua, Samuel, &c. &c. prove they were not written by Moses, Joshua, Samuel, &c. Secondly, Because they were not written till after the Babylonish captivity began ; and there is good reason to beUeve, that not any book in the Bible was written before that period : at least, it is prove- able, from, the books themselves, as I have already shown, that they were not written till after the commencement of the Jewish monarchy. Thirdly, Because the manner in which the books ascribed to Ezekiel and Daniel are written, agrees with the condition these men were in at the time of writing them. Had the numerous commentators and priests, who have foolish- ly employed or wasted their time in pretending to expound and unriddle those books, have been carried into captivity, as Ezekiel and Daniel were, it would have greatly improved their intellects^ in comprehending the reason for this mode of writing, and have 118 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART II Aaved them the trouble of racking their invention, as they have done, to no purpose ; for they would have found that themselves would be obliged to write whatever they had to write, respecting their own affairs, or those of their friends, or of their country, in a concealed manner, as those men have done. These two books differ from all the rest ; for it is only these that are filled with accounts of dreams and visions : and this difference arose from the situation the writers were in as prisoners of war, or prisoners of state, in a foreign countiy, which obliged them to convey even the most trifling information to each other, and all their political projects or opinions, in obscure and metaphorical terms. They pretend to have dreamed dreams, and seen visions, because it was unsafe for them to speak facts or plain language. We ought, however, to suppose, that the persons to whom they wrote, understood what they meant, and that it was not intended any body else should. But these busy commentators and priests have been puzzling their wits to find out what it was not intended they should know, and with which they have nothing to do. Ezekiel and Daniel were carried prisoners to Babylon, under the first captivity, in the time of Jehoiakim, nine years before the second captivity in the time of Zedekiah. The Jews were then siiU numerous, and had considerable force at Jerusalem ; and as it is natural to suppose that men in the situation of Ezekiel and Dan- iel, would be meditating the recovery of their country, and their own deliverance, it is reasonable to suppose, that the accounts ot dreams and visions, with which these books are filled, are no other than a disguised mode of correspondence, to facilitate those ob- jects : it served them as a cypher, or secret alphabet. If they are not this, they are tales, reveries, and nonsense ; or, at least, a fan- ciful way of wearing off the wearisomeness of captivity ; but the presumption is, they were the former. Ezekiel begins his books by speaking of a vision of cheruhhns, and of a wheel ivithin a wheel, which he says he saw by the river Chebar, in the land of his captivity. Is it not reasonable to sup- pose, that by the cherubims, he meant the temple at Jerusalem, where they had figures of cherubims 1 and by a wheel within a wheel (which, as a figure, has always been understood to signify political contrivance) the project or means of recovering Jerusa- lem? In the latter part of this book, he supposes liimself trans- FART II.] THE AGE OF REASt>N. 119 ported to Jerusalem, and into the temple ; and he refers oack to the vision on the river Chebar, and says, (chap. xlhi. ver. 3,) that this last vision was like the vision on the river Chebar ; which in- dicates, that those pretended dreams and visions had for their ob- ject the recovery of Jerusalem, and nothing further. As to the romantic interpretations and applications, wild as the dreams and visions they undertake to explain, which commentators and priests have made of those books, that of converting them into things which they call prophecies, and making them bend to times and circumstances, as far remote even as the present day, it shows the fraud or the extreme folly to which credulity or priest- craft can go. Scarcely any thing can be more absurd, than to suppose that men situated as Ezekiel and Daniel were, whose country was over-run, and in the possession of the enemy, all their friends and relations 'n captivity abroad, or in slavery at home, or massacred, or in con- .mual danger of it ; scarcely any thing, I say, can be more absurd, xhan to suppose that such men should find nothing to do but that of employing their time and their thoughts about what was to hap- pen to other nations a thousand or two thousand years after they were dead ; at the same time, nothing is more natural, than that they should meditate the recovery of Jerusalem, and their own deliverance ; and that this was the sole object of all the obscure and apparently frantic writings contained in those books. In this sense, the mode of writing used in those two books being forced by necessity, and not adopted by choice, is not irrational ; but if we are to use the books as prophecies, they are false. In the29lhchapter of Ezekiel, speakingof Egypt, it is said, (ver. 11,) •* J^o fool of man should pass through it, nor foot of beast should pass through it ; neither shall it be inhabited for forty years." This is what never came to pass, and consequently it is false, as all the books I have already reviewed are. I here close this part of the subject. In the former part of the Age of Reason I have spoken of Jonah, and of the story of him and the whale. A fit story for ridicule, if it was written to be believed ; or of laughter, if it was intended to try what credulity could swallow ; for if it could swallow Jonah and the whale, it could swallow any thing. But, as is already shown in the observations on the book of Job, «nd of Proverbs, it is not always certain which of the books in th^ 120 THE AGE OF REASON". [pART II. Bible are on''g'inally Hebrew or only translations from books of the Gentiles into Hebrew ; and, as the book of Jonah, so far from treating of the affairs of the Jews, says nothing upon that subject, but treats altogether of the Gentiles, it is more probable that it is a book of the Gentiles than of the Jews; and that it has been written as a fable, to expose the nonsense and satirise the vicious and malignant character of a Bible prophet, or a predicting priest. Jonah is represented, fir^t, as a disobedient prophet, running away from his mission, and taking shelter aboard a vessel of the Gentiles, bound from Joppa to Tarshish ; as if he ignorantly sup- posed, by such a paltry contrivance, he could hide himself where God could not find him. The vessel is overtaken by a storm at sea ; and the mariners, all of whom are Gentiles, believing it to be a judgment, on account of some one on board who had com- mitted a crime, agreed to cast lots, to discover the offender ; and the lot fell upon Jonah. But, before this, they had cast all their wares and merchandise overboard, to lighten the vessel, while Jonah, like a stupid fellow, was fast asleep in the hold. After the lot had designated Jonah to be the offender, they ques- tioned him to know who and what he was ? and he told them he ivas an Hebrew ; and the story implies that he confessed himself to be guilty. But these Gentiles instead of sacrificing him at once, without pity or mercy, as a company of Bible-prophets or priests would have done by a Gentile in the same case, and as it is related Samuel had done by A gag, and Moses by the women and children, they endeavoured to save him, though at the risk of their own lives ; for the account says, " jyevertheless (that is, though Jonah was a Jew, and a foreigner, and the cause of all their misfortunes, and the loss of their cargo) the men rowed hard to bring the boat to land, but they could not, for the sea wrought and was tempestuous against them." Still, however, they were unwill- ing to put the fate of the lot into execution ; and they cried (says the account) unto the Lord, saying, " We beseech thee, O Lord, let us not perish for this man's life, and lay not upon us innocent blood; for thou, O Lord, hast done as it pleased thee." Meaning thereby, that they did not presume to judge Jonah guilty, since that he might be innocent ; but that they considered the lot that had fallen upon him as a decree of God, or as it pleased God. The address of this prayer shows that the Gentiles worshipped one Supreme Being, and that they were not idolators, as the Jews PART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 121 represented them to be. But the storm stil. continuing, and the danger increasing, they put the fate of the lot into execution, and cast Jonah into the sea ; where, according to the story, a great fish swallowed him up whole and alive. We have now to consider Jonah securely housed from the storm in the fish's belly. Here we are told that he prayed ; but the prayer is a made-up prayer, taken from various parts of the Psalms, without any connexion or consistency, and adapted to the distress, but not at all to the condition, that Jonah was in. It is such a prayer as a Gentile, who might know something of the Psalms, could copy out for him. This circumstance alone, were there no other, is sufficient to indicate that the whole is a made-up story. The prayer, however, is supposed to have answered the purpose, and the story goes on, (taking up at the same time the cant language of a Bible prophet,) saying, " TTie Lord sjjake unto the fish, and it vomited out Jonah upon dryland." Jonah then received a second mission to Ninevah, with which he sets out ; and we have now to consider him as a preacher. The distress he is represented to have suffered, the remembrance of his own disobedience as the cause of it, and the miraculous escape he is supposed to have had, were sufficient, one would con- ceive, to have impressed him with sympathy and benevolence in the execution of his mission ; but, instead of this, he enters the city with denunciation and malediction in his mouth, crying, '* Yet forty datjSy and JSlnevah shall be overthroivny We have now to consider this supposed missionary in the last act of his mission ; and here it is that the malevolent spirit of a Bible-prophet, or of a predicting priest, appears in all that blackness of character, that men ascribe to the being they call the devil. Having published his predictions, he withdrew, says the story, to the east side of the city. But for what 1 not to contemplate, in retirement, the mercy of his Creator to himself, or to others, but to wait with malignant impatience, the destruction of Ninevah. It came to pass, however, as the story relates, that the Nineviles reformed, and that God, according to the Bible phrase, repented him of the evil he had said he would do unto them, and did it not. This, saith the first verse of the last chapter, displeased Jonah exceedingly and he was very angry. His obdurate heart would rather that all Ninevah should be destroyed, cvnd every soul, young 16 l22 THE ACE OF REASON. [PART II. and old, perish in its ruins, than that his prediction should not be fulfilled. To expose the character of a prophet still more, a gourd is made to grow up in the night, that promises him an agree- able shelter from the heat of the sun, in the place to which he is retired ; and the next morning it dies. Here the rage of the prophet becomes excessive, and he is ready to destroy himself. " It is better, said he, for me to die than to live." This brings on a supposed expostulation between the Almighty and the prophet ; in which the former says, " Doest thou well to be angry for the gourd ? And Jonah said, I do well to be angry even unto death ; Then said the Lord, Thou hast had pity on the gourd, for which thou hast not laboured, neither madest it to grow, ivhich came up in a night, and perished in a night ; and should not I spare JS'inevah, that great city, in which are more than threescore thousand persons, that cannot discern between their right hand and their left ?" Here is both the winding up of the satire, and the moral of the fable. As a satire, it strikes against the character of all the Bible- prophets, and against all the indiscriminate judgments upon men, women, and children, with which this lying book, the Bible, is crowded ; such as Noah's flood, the destruction of the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, the extirpation of the Canaanites, even to sucking infants, and women with child, because the same reflec- tion, that there are more than threescore thousand persons that can-- not discern between their right hand and their left, meaning young children, applies to all their cases. It satirizes also the supposed partiality of the Creator, for one nation more than for another. As a moral, it preaches against the malevolent spirit of predic- tion ; for as certainly as a man predicts ill, he becomes inclined to jvish it. The pride of having his judgment right, hardens his heart, till at last he beholds with satisfaction, or sees with disap- pointment, the accomplishment or the failure of his predictions. This book ends with the same kind of strong and well-directed point against prophets, prophecies, and indiscriminate judgments, as the chapter that Benjamin Franklin made for the Bible, about Abraham and the stranger, ends against the intolerant spirit of religious persecution. Thus much for the book Jonah. Of the poetical parts of the Bible, that are called prophecies, I have spoken in the former part of the Age of Reason, and already in this : where I have s..«d that the word jjrophet is the Bible worvl FART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 123 for poet ; and that the flights and metaphors of those poets, many of which have become obscure by the lapse of time and the change of circumstances, have been ridiculously erected into things called prophecies, and applied to purposes the writers never thought of. When a priest quotes any of those passages, he unriddles it agreeably to his own views, and imposes that expla- nation upon his congregation as the meaning of the writer. The whore of Babylon has been the common whore of all the priests, and each has accused the other of keeping the strumpet ; so well do they agree in their explanations. There now remain only a few books, which they call the books of the lesser prophets ; and as I have already shown that the greater are impostors, it would be cowardice to disturb the repose of the little ones. Let them sleep, then, in the arms of their nurses, the priests, and both be forgotten together. I have now gone through the Bible, as a man would go through a wood with an axe on his shoulder, and fell trees. Here they lie ; and the priests, if they can, may replant them. They may, pre- haps, stick them in the ground, but they will never make them grow. — I pass on to the books of the New Testament. THE NEW TESTAMENT. The New Testament, they tell us, is founded upon the pro- phecies of the Old ; if so, it must follow the fate of its founda- tion. As it is nothing extraordinary that a woman should be with child before she was married, and that the son she might bring forth should be executed, even unjustly, I see no reason for not believ- ing that such a woman as Mary, and such a man as Joseph, and Jesus, existed ; their mere existence is a matter of indifference about which there is no ground either to believe or to disbelieve and which comes under the con^mon head of, It may be so ; anu what then ? The probability, however, is, that there were such persons, or at least such as resembled them in part of the circum- stances, because almost all romantic stories have been suggested by some actual circumstance ; as the adventures of Robinson Crusoe, not a word of which is true, were suggested by the case of Alexander Selkirk. 124 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART II. It is not then li:e existence, or non-existence, of the persons that I trouble myself about ; ilis the fable of Jesus Christ, as told in the New Testament, and the wild and visionary doctrine raised thereon against which I contend. The story, taking it as it is told, is blasphemously obscene. It gives an account of a young woman engaged to be married, and while under this engagement, she is, to speak plain language, debauched by a ghost, under the impious pretence, (Luke, chap. i. ver. 35,) that " the Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadoio thee.^^ Notwithstanding which, Joseph afterwards marries her, cohabits with her as his wife, and in his turn rivals the ghost. This is putting the story into intelligible language, and when told in this manner, there is not a priest but must be ashamed to own it* Obscenity in matters of faith, however wrapped up, is always a token of fable and imposture ; for it is necessary to our serious belief in God, that we do not connect it with stories that run, as this does, mto ludicrous interpretations. This story is, upon the face of it, the same kind of story as that of Jupiter and Leda, or Jupiter and Europa, or any of the amorous adventures of Jupi- ter ; and shows, as is already stated in the former part of the Age of Reason, that the Christian faith is built upon the heathen my- thology. As the historical parts of the New Testament, so far as con- cerns Jesus Christ, are confined to a very short space of time, less than two years, and all within the same country, and nearly to the same spot, the discordance of time, place, and circumstance, which detects the fallacy of the books of the Old Testament, and proves them to be impositions, cannot be expected to be found here in the same abundance. The New Testament compared with the Old, is like a farce of one act, in which there is not room for very numerous violations of the unities. There are, however, some glaring contradictions, which, exclusive of the fallacy of the pretended prophecies, are sufficient to show the story of Jesus Christ to be false. I lay it down as a position which cannot be controverted, first, that the agreement of all the parts of a story does not prove that * Mary, the supposed virgin mother of Jesus, had severil other children, sons and daughters. See Matt. chap. xiii. 55, 56. FAKT n.] THE AGE OF REASON. 19$ Story to be true, because the parts may agree, and the Mhole may be false ; secondly, that the disagreement of the parts of a story proves the whole cannot be true. The agreement does not prove truth, but the disagreement pioves falsehood positively The history of Jesus Christ is contained in the tour books as- cribed to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. The first chapter of Matthew begins with giving a genealogy of Jesus Christ ; and in the third chapter of Luke, there is also given a genealogy of Jesus Christ. Did these two agree, it would not prove the genealogy to be true, because it might, nevertheless, be a fabrication ; but as they contradict each other in every particular, it proves falsehood absolutely. If Matthew speaks truth, Luke speaks falsehood ; and if Luke speaks truth, Matthew speaks falsehood ; and as there is no authority for believing one more than the other, there is no authority for believing either ; and if they cannot be believed even in the very first thing they say, and set out to prove, they are not entitled to be believed in any thing they say afterwards. Truth is an uniform thing ; and as to inspiration and revelation, were we to admit it, it is impossible to suppose it can be contradictory. Either then the men called apostles were impostors, or the books ascribed to them have been written by other persons, and fathered upon them, as is the case in the Old Testament. The book of Matthew gives, chap. i. ver. 6, a genealogy by name from David, up through Joseph, the husband of Mary, to Christ : and makes there to be ixventy-eight generations. The book of Luke gives also a genealogy by name from Christ, through Joseph, the husband of Mary, down to David, and makes there to he forty-three generations ; besides which, there are only the two names of David and Joseph that are alike in the two lists. 1 here insert both genealogical lists, and for the sake of perspicuity and comparison have placed them both in the same direction, that is, from Joseph down to David. Genealogy, according to Genealogy, according to Matthew. Luke. Christ Christ 2 Joseph 2 Joseph 3 Jacob 3 Heli 4 Matthan 4 Matthat 6 Eleazer 5 Levi 126 THE ACE OF REASON. Genealogy, acording to Matthew. 6 Eliud 7 Achim S Sadoo 9 Azor 10 Eliakim 11 Abiud 12 Zorobabel 13 Salathiel 14 Jechonias 15 Josias 16 Amon 17 Manasses 18 Ezekias 19 Achaz 20 Joatham 21 Ozias 22 Joram 23 Josaphat 24 Asa 25 Abia 26 Roboam 27 Solomon 28 David* [part II Genealogy, according to Luke. 6 Melchi 7 Janna 8 Joseph 9 Mattathias 10 Amos 11 Naum 12 Esli 13 Nagge 14 Maath 15 Mattathias 16 Semei 17 Joseph 18 Juda 19 Joanna 20 Rhesa 21 Zorobabel 22 Salathiel 23 Neri 24 Melchi 25 Addi 26 Cosam 27 Elmodam 28 Er 29 Jose 30 Eliezer 31 Jorim 32 Matthat 33 Levi 34 Simeon 35 Juda * From the birth of David to the birth of Christ is upwards of 1080 years, and £is the Ufe-time of Christ is not included, there are but 27 full generations. To find, therefore, the average age of each person mentioned in the list, at the time his first son was born, it is only necessary to divide 108 by 27, which gives 40 years for each person. As the life-time of man was then but of the same extern it is now, it is an absurdity to suppose, that 27 foUowmg genera- tions should all be old bachelors, before they married ; and the more so, when we are told th'J.t Solomon, the next in succession to David, had a house full of wives and mwtresses before he was twenty-one years of age. So far from this genealogy being a solemn truth, it is not even a reasonable lie. The list of I.uke gives about twenty-six years for the average age, and this is too much. PART II.1 THE AGE OF REASON. 127 Genealogy, according to Genealogy, according to Matthew. Luke. 36 Joseph 37 Jonan 38 Elakim 39 Melea 40 Menan 41 Mattatha 42 Nathan 43 David Now, if these men, Matthew and Luke, set out with a falsehood between them (as these two accounts show they do) in the very commencement of their history of Jesus Christ, and of whom, and of what he was, what authority (as I have before asked) is there left Jbr believing the strange things they tell us afterwards 1 If they cannot be believed in their account of his natural genealogy, how are we to believe them, when they tell us, he was the son of God, begotten by a ghost ; and that an angel announced this in secret to his mother? If they lied in one genealogy, why are we to believe them in the other 1 If his natural be manufactured, which it certainly is, why are not we to suppose, that his celestial genealogy is manufactured also ; and that the whole is fabulous ? Can any man of serious reflection hazard his future happiness upon the belief of a story naturally impossible ; repugnant to every idea of decency ; and related by persons already detected of falsehood? Is it not more safe that we stop ourselves at the plain, pure, and unmixed belief of one God, which is deism, than that we commit ourselves on an ocean of improbable, irrational, indecent and contradictory tales ? The first question, however, upon the books of the New Testa- ment, as upon those of the Old, is, are they genuine ? Were they written by the persons to whom they are ascribed ? for it is upon this ground only, that the strange things related therein have been credited. Upon this point, there is no direct proof for or against; and all that this state of a case proves, is doubtfulness ; and doubt- fulness is the opposite of belief. The state, therefore, that the books are in, proves against themselves, as far as this kind of proof can go. But, exclusive of this, the presumption is, that the books called the Evangelists, and ascribed to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, 128 THE AGE OF REASON [PAKT II. were not written by Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John ; and that they are impositions. The disordered state of the history in these four books, the silence of one book upon matters related in the other, and the disagreement that is to be found among them, implies, that they are the production of some unconnected indi- viduals, many years after the things they pretend to relate, each of whom made his own legend ; and not the writings of men living intimately together, as the men called apostles are sup- posed to have done : in fine, that they have been manufactured, as the books of the Old Testament have been, by other persons than those whose names they bear. The story of the angel announcing, what the church calls, the immacidate conception, is not so much as mentioned in the books ascribed to Mark and John ; and is differently related in Matthew and Luke. The former says, the angel appeared to Joseph^ the latter says, it was to Mary ; but either, Joseph or Mary, was the worst evidence that could have been thought of; for it was others that should have testified /or them, and not they for themselves. Were any girl that is now with child to say, and even to swear it, that she was gotten with child by a ghost, and that an angel told her so, would she be believed ? Certainly she would not. TMiy then are we to believe the same thing of another girl whom we never saw, told by nobody knows who, nor when, nor where ] How strange and inconsistent is it, that the same circumstance that would weaken the belief even of a probable story, should be given as a motive for believing this one, that has upon the face of it every token of absolute impossibility and imposture. The story of Herod destroying all the children under two years old, belongs altogether to the book of Matthew : not one of the rest mentions any thing about it. Had such a circumstance been true, the universality of it must have made it known to all the writers ; and the thing would have been too striking to have been omitted by any. This writer tells us, that Jesus escaped this slaughter, because Joseph and Mary were warned by an angel to flee with him into Egypt ; but he forgot to make any provision for John who was then under two years of age. John, however, who staid behind, fared as well as Jesus, who fled ; and, therefore, the story circumstantially belies itself. Not any two of these writers agree in reciting, exactly in the same words, the written inscription, short as it is, which they tell PART II.] THE AGE OP REASON. 129 US was put over Christ when he was crucified : and besides this, Mark says, He was crucified at the third hour, (nine in the mora ing ;) and John says it was the sixth hour, (twelve at noon.*) The inscription is thus stated in those books. Matthew — This is Jesus the king of the Jews Mark The king of the Jews. Luke This is the king of the Jews. John Jesus of Nazareth king of the Jews. We may infer from these circumstances, trivial as they are, that those writers, whoever they were, and in whatever time they lived, were not present at the scene. The only one of the men, called apostles, who appears to have been near the spot, was Peter, and when he was accused of being one of Jesus' followers, it is said, (Matthew, chap. xxvi. ver. 74,) " Then Peter began to curse and to sicear, saying, I knoio not the man ;" yet we are now called upon to believe the same Peter, convicted, by their own account, of perjury. For what reason, or on what authority, shall we do this 1 The accounts that are given of the circumstances, that they tell us attended the crucifixion, are differently related in those four books. The book ascribed to Matthew says, " There was darkness over all the land from the sixth hour unto the ninth hour — that the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom — that there loas an earthquake — that the rocks rent — that the graves opened, that the bodies of many of the saints that slept arose and came out of their graves after the resurrection, and tcent into the holy city and appeared unto many." Such is the account which this dashing writer of the book of Matthew gives ; but m which he is not supported by the writers of the other books. The writer of the book ascribed to Mark, in detailing the cir- cumstances of the crucifixion, makes no mention of any earth- quake, nor of the rocks rending, nor of the graves opening, nor of the dead men walking out. The writer of the book of Luke is silent also upon the same points. And as to the writer of the book of John, though he details all the circumstances of the cruci- * According to John, the sentence was not pussed till about the sixth hour, (noon,) and, consequently, the execution could not be till the afternoon ; but Mark says expressly, that he was crucified at the third hour, (nine in th« morning,) chap. xv. 25 ; John chap. xix. ver. 14. 17 130 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART II. fixion down to the burial of Christ, he says nothing about either the darkness — the veil of the temple — the earthquake — the rocks — the graves — nor the dead men. Now if it had been true, that those things had happened ; and if the writers of these books had lived at the time they did happen, and had been the persons they are said to be, namely, the four men called apostles, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, it was not possible for them, as true historians, even without the aid of inspiration, not to have recorded them. The things, supposing them to have been facts, were of too much notoriety not to have been known, and of too much importance not to have been told. All these supposed apostles must have been witnesses of the earthquake, if there had been any ; for it was not possible for them to have been absent from it ; the opening of the graves and resurrection of the dead men, and their walking about the city is of greater importance than the earthquake. An earthquake is always possible, and natural, and proves nothing ; but this open- ing of the graves is supernatural, and directly in point to their doctrine, their cause, and their apostleship. Had it been true, it would have filled up whole chapters of those books, and been the chosen theme and general chorus of all the writers ; but instead of this, little and trivial things, and mere prattling conversations of, he said this, and she said that, are often tediously detailed, while this most important of all, had it been true, is passed off in a slov- enly manner by a single dash of the pen, and that by one writer only, and not so much as hinted at by the rest. It is an easy thing to tell a lie, but it is difficult to support the he after it is told. The writer of the book of Matthew should have told us who the saints were that came to life again, and went into the city, and what became of them afterwards, and who it was that saw them ; for he is not hardy enough to say he saw them himself whether they came out naked, and all in natural buff, he-saints and she-saints ; or whether they came full dressed, and whece they got their dresses ; whether they went to their former habitations, and reclaimed their wives, their husbands, and their property, and how they were received ; whether they entered ejectments for the recovery of their possessions, or brought actions of crJTO. con. against the rival interlopers ; whether they remained on earth, and fallewed .their forn;«.r occupation of preaching or PART JI.] THE AGE OF REASON. 131 working ; or whether they died again, or went back to their graves ahve, and buried themselves. Strange indeed, that an army of saints should return to life, and nobody know who they were, nor who it was that saw them, and that not a word more should be said upon the subject, nor these saints have any thing to tell us ! Had it been the prophets who (as we are told) had formerly prophesied of these things, they must have had a great deal to say. They could have told us every thing, and we should have had posthumous prophecies, with notes and commentaries upon the first, a little better at least than we have now. Had it been Moses, and Aaron, and Joshua, and Samuel, and David, not an unconverted Jew had remained in all Jerusalem. Had it been John the Baptist, and the saints of the time then present, every body would have known them, and they would have out-preached and out-famed all the other apostles. But, instead of this, these saints are made to pop up, like Jonah's gourd in the night, for no purpose at all but to wither in the morning. Thus much for this part of the stor3\ The tale of the resurrection follows that of the crucifixion ; and in this as well as in that, the writers, whoever they were, disagree so much, as to make it evident that none of them were there. The book of Matthew states, that when Christ was put in the sepulchre, the Jews applied to Pilate for a watch or a guard to be placed over the sepulchre, to prevent the body being stolen by the disciples ; and that, in consequence of this request, the sepulchre was made sure, sealing the stone that covered the mouth, and setting a watch. But the other books say nothing about this ap- plication, nor about the sealing, nor the guard, nor the watch ; and according to their accounts, there were none. Matthew, however, follows up this part of the story of the guard or the watch with a second part, that I shall notice in the conclusion, as it serves to detect the fallacy of those books. The book of Matthew continues its account, and says, (chap, xxviii. ver. 1,) that at the end of the Sabbath, as it began to dawn, towards the first day of the week, came Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, to see the sepulchre. Mark says it was sun-rising, and John says it was dark. Luke says it was Mary Magdalene and Joanna, and Mary the mother of James, and other women, that came to the sepulchre ; and John states, that Mary Magda- lene came alone. So well do they agree about their first evi- 132 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART II dence! tney all, however, appear to have known most about Mary Magdalene ; she was a woman of a large acquaintance, and it was not an ill conjecture that she might be upon the stroll. The book of Matthew goes on to say, (ver. 2,) " And behold there was a great earthquake, for the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it." But the other books say nothing about any earthquake, nor about the angel rolling back the stone, and sitting upon it ; and, according to their account, there was no angel sitting there. Mark says the angel was within the sepulchre, sitting on the right side. Luke says there were two, and they were both standing up ; and John says they were both sitting down, one at the head and the other at the feet. Matthew says, that the angel that was sitting upon the stone on the outside of the sepulchre, told the two Marys that Christ was risen, and that the women went away quickly. Mark says, that the women, upon seeing the stone rolled away, and wondering at it, went into the sepulchre, and that it was the angel that was sitting within on the right side, that told them so. Luke says, it was the two angels that were standing up ; and John says, it was Jesus Christ himself that told it to Mary Magdalene ; and that she did not go into the sepulchre, but only stooped down and looked in. Now, if the writers of these four books had gone into a court of Justice to prove an alibi, (for it is of the nature of an alibi that IS here attempted to be proved, namely, the absence of a dead body by supernatural means,) and had they given their evidence in the same contradictory manner as it is here given, they would have been in danger of having their ears cropt for perjury, and would have justly deserved it. Yet this is the evidence, and these are the books, that have been imposed upon the world, as being given by divine mspiration, and as the unchangeable word of God. The writer of the book of Matthew, after giving this account, relates a story that is not to be found in any of the other books, and which is the same I have just before alluded to. " Now," says he, (that is, after the conversation the women had had with the angel sitting upon the stone,) " oehold some of the watch (meaning the watch that he had said had been placed over the sepulchre) came into the city, and showed unto the chief PART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 133 priests all the things that were done ; and when they were assem- bled with the elders and had taken counsel, they gave large money unto the soldiers, saying, Say ye, that his disciples came by night, and stole him away while we slept ; and if this come to the gov- ernor's ears, we will persuade him, and secure you. So (hey took the money, and did as they were taught ; and this saying (that his disciples stole him away) is commonly reported among the Jews until this day." The expression, until this day, is an evidence that the book ascribed to Matthew was not written by Matthew, and that it has been manufactured long after the times and things of which it pre- tends to treat ; for the expression implies a great length of inter- vening time. It would be inconsistent in us to speak in this man- ner of any thing happening in our own time. To give, therefore, intelligible meaning to the expression, we must suppose a lapse of some generations at least, for this manner of speaking carries the mind back to ancient time. The absurdity also of the story is worth noticing ; for it shows the writer of the book of Matthew to have been an exceedingly weak and foolish man. He tells a story that contradicts itself in point of possibility ; for though the guard, if there were any, might be made to say that the body was taken away while they were asleep, and to give that as a reason for their not having prevented it, that same sleep must also have prevented their knowing how, and by whom it was done ; and yet they are made to say, that it was the disciples who did it. Were a man to tender his evidence of something that he should say was done, and of the manner of doing it, and of the person who did it while he was asleep, and could know nothing of the matter, such evidence could not be re- ceived ; it will do well enough for Testament evidence, but not for any thing where truth is concerned. I come now to that part of the evidence in those books, that respects the pretended appearance of Christ after this pretended resurrection. The writer of the book of Matthew relates, that the angel that was sitting on the stone at the mouth of the sepulchre, said to the two Marys, chap, xxviii. ver. 7, " Behold Christ is gone before you into Galilee, there ye shall see him ; lo, I have told you.'" And the same writer at the two next verses, (8, 9,) makes Christ him- self to speak to the same purpose to these women immediately 134 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART II. after the angel had told it to them, and that they ran quickly to tell it to the disciples ; and at the 16th verse it is said, ^'■Then the eleven disciples went aivay into Galilee, into a mountain were Jesus had appointed them : and, when they saw him, they worshipped him." But the writer of the book of John tells us a story very differ- ent to this ; for he says, chap. xx. ver. 19, " Then the game day it evening, being the first day of the iveek, (that is, the same day .nat Christ is said to have risen,) ivhen the doors were shut, where the disciples ivere assembled, for fear of the Jews, came Jesus and stood in the midst of them. According to Matthew the eleven were marching to Galilee, to meet Jesus in a mountain, by his own appointment, at the very time when, according to John, they were assembled in another place, and that not by appointment but in secret, for fear of the Jews. The writer of the book of Luke contradicts that of Matthew more pointedly than John does ; for he says expressly, that the meeting was in Jerusalem the evening of the same day that he (Christ) rose, and that the eleven were there. See Luke, chap, xxiv. ver. 13, 33. Now, it is not possible, unless we admit these supposed disci- ples the right of wilful lying, that the writer of these books could be any of the eleven persons called disciples : for if, according to Matthew, the eleven went into Galilee to meet Jesus in a mountain by his own appointment, on the same day that he is said to have risen, Luke and John must have been two of that eleven ; yet the writer of Luke says expressly, and John implies as much, that the meeting was that same day, in a house in Jerusalem ; and, on the other hand, if, according to Luke and John, the eleven were as- sembled in a house in Jerusalem, Matthew must have been one of that eleven ; yet Matthew says, the meeting was in a mountain in Galilee, and consequently the evidence given in those books de- stroys each other. The writer of the book of Mark says nothing about any meet- ing in Galilee ; but he says, chap. xvi. ver. 12, that Christ, after his resurrection, appeared in another form to two of them, as they walked into the country, and that these two told it to the residue who would not believe them. Luke also tells a story, in wliich he keeps Christ employed the whole of the day of this pretended resurrection, until the evening, and which totally invalidates the PART II. J THE AGE OF REASON. 135 account of going to the mountain in Galilee. He says, that two of them, without saying which two, went that same day to a village called Emmaus, threescore furlongs (seven miles and a half) from Jerusalem, and that Christ, in disguise, went with them, and staid with them unto the evening, and supped with them, and then vanished out of their sight, and re-appeared that same evening, at the meeting of the eleven in Jerusalem. This is the contradictory manner in which the evidence of this pretended re-appearance of Christ is stated ; the only point in which the writers agree, is the skulking privacy of that re-appear- ance ; for whether it was in the recess of a mountain in Galilee, or in a shut-up house in Jerusalem, it was still skulking. To what cause then are v,e to assign this skulking ? On the one hand, it is directly repugnant to the supposed or pretended end — that of convincing the world that Christ was risen ; and, on the other hand, to have asserted the publicity of it, would have exposed the writers of those books to public detection, and, therefore, they have been under the necessity of making it a private affair. As to the account of Christ being seen by more than five hun- dred at once, it is Paul only who says it, and not the five hundred who say it for themselves. It is, therefore, the testimony of but one man, and that too of a man, who did not, according to the same account, believe a word of the matter himself, at the time it is said to have happened. His evidence, supposing him to have been the writer of the 15th chapter of Corinthians, where this account is given, is like that of a man who comes into a court of justice to swear, that what he had sworn before is false. A man may often see reason, and he has, too,- always the right of chang- mg his opinion ; but this liberty does not extend to matters of fact. I now come to the last scene, that of the ascension into heaven. Here all fear of the Jews, and of every thing else, must necessa- rily have been out of the question : it was that which, if true, was to seal the whole ; and upon which the reality of the future mis- sion of the disciples was to rest for proof. "Words, whether declarations or promises, that passed in private, either in the recess of a mountain in Galilee, or in a shut-up house in Jerusalem, even supposing them to have been spoken, could not be evidence in public ; it was therefore necessary that this last scene should preclude the possibility of denial and dispute ; and that it should 136 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART II. be, as I have stated in the former part of the Jige of Reason, as public and as visible as the sun at noon day : at least it ought to have been as public as the crucifixion is reported to have been. But to come to the point. In the first place the writer of the book of Matthew does not say a syllable about it ; neither does the writer of the book of John. Ttiis being the case, is it possible to suppose that those writers, who affect to be even minute in other matters, would have been silent upon this, had it been true ? The writer of the book of Mark passes it off in a careless, slovenly manner, with a single dash of the pen, as if he was tired of romancing, or ashamed of the story. So also does the writer of Luke. And even between these two, there is not an apparent agreement, as to the place where this final parting is said to have been. The book of Mark says, that Christ appeared to the eleven as they sat at meat ; alluding to the meeting of the eleven at Jeru- salem : he then states the conversation that he says passed at that meeting ; and immediately after says, (as a school-boy would finish a dull story,) " So then, after the Lord had spoken unto them, he was received up into heaven, and sat on the right hand of God." But the writer of Luke says, that the ascension was from Bethany ; that he (Christ) led them out a^ far as Bethany, and ivas parted from them there, and tvas carried up into heaven. So also was Mahomet : and, as to Moses, the apostle Jude says, ver. 9, Tliat Michael and the devil disputed about his body. While we believe such fables as these, or either of them, we believe unworthily of the Almighty. I have now gone through the examination of the four books ascribed to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John ; and when it is considered that the whole space of time from the crucifixion to what is called the ascension, is but a few days, apparently not more than three or four, and that all the circumstances are said to have happened nearly about the same spot, Jerusalem ; it is, I believe, impossible to find, in any story upon record, so many and such glaring absurdities, contradictions, and falsehoods, as are in those books. They are more numerous and striking than 1 had any expectation of finding, when I began this examination, and far more so than I had any idea of when I wrote the former nart of the Jlge of Reason. I had then neither Bible nor Testameni to refer to, nor could I procure any. My own situation, even as to TART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 137 existence, was becoming every day more precarious ; and as I was willing to leave something behind me upon the subject, I was obliged to be quick and concise. The quotations I then made were from memory only, but they are correct ; and the opinions I have advanced in that work are the effect of the most clear and long-established conviction — that the Bible and the Testament are impositions upon the world — that the fall of man — the account of Jesus Christ being the Son of God, and of his dying to appease the wrath of God, and of salvation by that strange means, are all fabulous inventions, dishonourable to the wisdom and power of the Almighty — that the only true religon is Deism, by which I then meant, and now mean, the belief of one God, and an imitation of his moral character, or the practice of what are called moral virtues — and that it was upon this only (so far as religion is con- cerned) that I rested all my hopes of happiness hereafter. So say I now — and so help me God. But to return to the subject. — Though it is impossible, at this distance of time, to ascertain as a lact who were the vvriters of those four books (and this alone is sufficient to hold them in doubt, and where we doubt wc do not believe) it is not difficult to ascer- tain negatively that they were not written by the persons to whom they are ascribed. The contradictions in those books demon strate two things : First, that the writers cannot have been eye-witnesses and ear- witnesses of the matters they relate, or they would have related them without those contradictions ; and, consequently, that the books have not been written by the persons called apostles, who are supposed to have been witnesses of this kind. Secondly, that the writers, whoever they were, have not acted in concerted imposition, but each writer separately and indi- vidually for himself, and without the knowledge of the other. The same evidence that applies to prove the one, applies equally to prove both cases ; that is, that the books were not writ- ten by the men called apostles, and also that they are not a concerted imposition. As to inspiration, it is altogether out of the question ; we may as well attempt to unite truth and falsehood, as inspiration and contradiction. If four men are eye-witnesses and ear-witnesses to a scene, they will, without any concert between them, agree as to time and place, when and where that scene happened. Their individual 18 138 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART II. knowledge of the thing, each one knowing it /or himself, renders concert totally unnecessary ; the one will not say it was in a mountain in the country, and the other at a house in town : the one will not say it was at sun-rise, and the other that it was dark. For in whatever place it was, at whatever time it was, they know it equally alike. And, on the other hand, if four men concert a story, they will make their separate relations of that story agree, and corrobo- rate with each other to support the whole. That concert supplies the want of fact in the one case, as the knowledge of the fact supercedes, in the other case, the necessity of a concert. The same contradictions, therefore, that prove there has been no con- cert, prove, also, that the reporters had no knowledge of the fact, (or rather of that which they relate as a fact,) and detect also the falsehood of their reports. Those books, therefore, have neither been written by the men called apostles, nor by impostors in con- cert. How then have they been written 1 I am not one of those who are fond of believing there is much of that which is called wilful lying, or lying originally ; except in the case of men setting up to be prophets, as in the Old Testa- ment : for prophesying is lying professionally. In almost all other cases, it is not difficult to discover the progress, by which even simple supposition, with the aid of credulity, will, in time, grow into a lie, and at last be told as a fact ; and whenever we can find a charitable reason for a thing of this kind, we ought not to indulge a severe one. The story of Jesus Christ appearing after he was dead, is the story of an apparition, such as timid imaginations can always cre- ate in vision, and credulity believe. Stories of this kind had been told of the assassination of Julius Ceesar, not many years before, and they generally have their origin in violent deaths, or in the ex- ecution of innocent persons. In cases of this kind, compassion lends its aid, and benevolently stretches the story. It goes on a little and a little further, till it becomes a most certain truth. Once start a ghost, and credulity fills up the history of its life and assigns the cause of its appearance ! one tells it one way, another another way, till there are as many stories about the ghost and about the proprietor of the ghost, as there are about Jesus Christ in these four books. PART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 139 The story of the appearance of Jesus Christ is told witb that Btrange mixture of the natural and impossible, that distinguishes legendary tale from fact. He is represented as suddenly coming in and going out when the doors are shut, and of vanishing out of sight, and appearing again, as one would conceive of an unsub- stantial vision ; then again he is hungry, sits down to meat, and eats his supper. But as those who tell stories of this kind, never provide for all the cases, so it is here : they have told us, that when he arose he left his grave clothes behind him ; but they have forgotten to provide other clothes for him to appear in afterwards, or tell to us what he did with them when he ascended ; whether he stripped all off, or went up clothes and all. In the case of Elijah, they have been careful enough to make him throw dow n his man- tle ; how it happened not to be burnt in the chariot of fire, they also have not told us. But as imagination supplies all deficiencies of this kind, we may suppose if we please, that it was made of salamander's wool. Those who are not much acquainted with ecclesiastical history, may suppose that the book called the New Testament has existed ever since the time of Jesus Christ, as they suppose that the books ascribed to Moses have existed ever since the time of Moses. But the fact is historically otherwise ; there w-as no such book as the New Testament till more than three hundred years after the time that Christ is said to have lived. At what time the books ascribed to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, began to appear, is altogether a matter of uncertainty. There is not the least shadow of evidence of who the persons were that wrote them, nor at what time they were written ; and they might as well have been called by the names of any of the other supposed apostles, as by the names they are now called. The originals are not in the possession of any Christian Church exist- ing, any more than the two tables of stone written on, they pretend, by the finger of God, upon mount Sinai, and given to Moses, are in the possession of the Jews. And even if they were, there is no possibility of proving the hand writing in either case. At the time those books were written there was no printing, and consequently there could be no publication, otherwise than by written copies, which any man might make or alter at pleasure, and call them originals. Can we suppose it is consistent with the wisdon^ of the Almighty, to commit himself and his will to man, upon such pro- 140 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART II. carious means as these, or that it is consistent we should pin our faith upon such uncertainties ? We cannot make nor alter, nor even imitate so much as one blade of grass that he has made, and yet we can make or alter ivords of God as easily as words of rrjan.* About three hundred and fifty years after the time that Christ is said to have lived, several writings of the kind I am speaking of, were scattered in the hands of divers individuals ; and as the church had begun to form itself into an hierarchy, or church go- vernment, with temporal powers, it set itself about collecting them into a code, as we now sec them, called The jVett) Testament. They decided by vote, as I have before said in the former part of the ^ge of Reason, which of those writings, out of the collection they had made, should be the icord of God, and which should not. The Rabbins of the Jews had decided, by vote, upon the books of the Bible before. As the object of the church, as is the case in all national estab lishments of churches, v,as power and revenue, and terror the means it used : it is consistent to suppose, that the most miracu- lous and wonderful of the writings they had collected stood the best chance of being voted. And as to the authenticity of the books, the vote stands in the place of it ; for it can be traced no higher. Disputes, however, ran high among the people then calling themselves Christians ; not only as to points of doctrine, but as to the authenticity of the books. In the contest between the persons called St. Augustine and Fauste, about the year 400, the latter says, " The books called the Evangelists have been composed long after the times of the apostles, by some obscure men, who, fearing that the world would not give credit to their relation of matters of which they could not be informed, have published them under the names of the apostles ; and which are so full of * The former part of the »?g-c of Reason has not been published two years, and there is already an expession in it that is not mine. The expression is : The book of Luke was carried by a majority of one voice only. It may be true, but it is not I that have said it. Some person who might know the circum- stance, has added it in a note at the bottom of the page of some of the editions, printed either in England or in America ; and the printers, after that, have erected it into the body of the work, and made me the author of it. If this has happened within such a short space of time, notwithstanding the aid of print- ing, which prevents the alteration of copies individually ; what may not have happened in much greater length of tnne, when there was no printing, and when any man who could write could make a written copy, and call it an original, by Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. PART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 141 sottishness and discoidant relations, that there is neither agree- ment nor connexion between them." And in another place, addressing himself to the advocates of those^ books, as being the word of God, he says, " It is thus that your predecessors have inserted in the scriptures of our Lord, many things, which though they carry his name, agree not with his doctrines. This is not surprising, since that we have often proved that these things have not been written by himself, nor by his apostles, but that for the greatest part they are founded upon tales, upon vague reports, and put together by I know not what, half Jews, with but little agreement between them ; and which they have nevertheless published under the names of the Apostles of our Lord, and have thus attributed to them their own errors and their /tes."* The reader will see by these extracts, that the authenticity of the books of the New Testament was denied, and the books treated as tales, forgeries, and lies, at the time they were voted to be the word of God. But the interest of the church, with the assistance of the faggot, bore down the opposition, and at last suppressed all investigation. Miracles followed upon miracles, if we will believe them, and men were taught to say they believed whether they believed or not. But (by way of throwing in a thought) the French Revolution has excommunicated the church from the power of working miracles : she has not been able, with the assistance of all her saints, to work o7ie miracle since the revolution began ; and as she never stood in greater need than now, we may, without the aid of devination, conclude, that all hei former miracles were tricks, and lies."}* * I have taken these two extracts from Boulano;er's Life of Paul, written m French ; Boulanger has quoted them from the writings of Augustine against Fauste, to which he refers. t Boulanger in his Life of Paul, has collected from the ecclesiastical histories, and the writings of the fathers as they are called, several matters which show the opinions that prevailed among the different sects of Christians, at the time the Testament, as we now see it, was voted to be the word of God. The fol lowing extracts are from the second chapter of that work. "TheMarchionists, (a Christian sect,) assured that the evangelists were filled with falsities. The Manicheens, who formed a very numerous sect at the commencement of Christianity, rejected as false, all the J^eto Testament; and showed other writings quite different that they gave for authentic. The Co- rinthians, like the Marcionists, admitted not the Acts of the Apostles. The Encratites, and the Sevenians, adopted neither the acts nor the Epistles of Paul. Chrysostome, in a homily which he made upon the Acts of the Apostles, says, tKat in his time, about the year 400, many people knew nothing either of the 142 THE AGE OF REASON. [PAUT II. When we consider the lapse of more than three hundred years intervening between the time that Christ is said to have lived and the time the new Testament was formed into a book, we must see, even without the assistance of historical evidence, the exceed- ing uncertainty there is of its authenticity. The authenticity of the book of Homer, so far as regards the authorship, is much better established than that of the New Testament, though Homer is a thousand years the most ancient. It was only an exceeding good poet that could have written the book of Homer, and, there- fore, few men only could have attempted it ; and a man capable of doing it would not have thrown away his own fame by giving it to another. In like manner, there were but few that could have composed Euclid's Elements, because none but an exceeding good geometrician could have been the author of that work. But with respect to the books of the New Testament, particu- larly such parts as tell us of the resurrection and ascension of Christ, any person who could tell a story of an apparition, or of a mail's walking, could have made such books ; for the story is most wretchedly told. The chance, therefore, of forgery in the Testament, is millions to one greater than in the case of Homer or Euclid. Of the numerous priests or parsons of the present day, bishops and all, every one of them can make a sermon, or translate a scrap of Latin, especially if it has been translated a thousand times before ; but is there any amongst them that can write poetry like Homer, of science like Euclid ; the sum total of a parson's learning, with very few exceptions, is a 6 ab, and hie, hcec, hoc ; and their knowledge of science is three times one is three ; and this is more than sufficient to have enabled them, had they lived at the time, to have written all the books of the New Testament. As the opportunities of forgery were greater, so also was the inducement. A man could gain no advantage by writing under the name of Homer or Euclid ; if he could write equal to them, it author or of the book. St. Irene, who lived before that time, reports that the Valeiuinians, hke several oilier sects of the Christians, accused the Scriptures of being filled with imperfections, errors and contrrJictions. The EbionUes oi Nazareens, who were the first Christians, rejected all the Epistles of Paul, and rej^arded him as an impostor. They report among other things, that he was originally a Pagan, that he came to Jerusalem, where he lived some time ; and that having a mind to marry the daughter of the higji priest, he caused him- self to be circumcised ; but that not being able to olitain her, he quarreHed witli the Jews, and wrote against circumcision, and against the observation o' the sabbath, and against all the legal ordinances." PART II.] THE AGE OF UEASON. 143 would be better that he wrote under his own name ; if inferior, hp could not succeed. Pride would prevent the former, and impos- sibility the latter. But with respect to such books as compose the New Testament, all the inducements were on the side of forgery. The best immagined history that could have been made, at the distance of two or three hundred years after the time, could not have passed for an original under the name of the real writer ; the only chance of success lay in forgery, for the church wanted pretence for its new doctrine, and truth and talents were out of the question. But as it is not uncommon (as before observed) to relate stories of persons walking aher they are dead, and of ghosts and apparitions of such as have fallen by some violent or extraor- dinary means ; and as the people of that day were in the habit of believing such things, and of the appearance of angels, and also of devils, and of their getting into people's insides, and shaking them like a fit of an ague, and of their being cast out agam as if by an emetic — (Mary Magdalene, the book of Mark tells us, had brought up, or been brought to bed of seven devils;) it was no- thing extraordinary that some story of this kind should get abroad of the person called Jesus Christ, and become afterwards the foundation of the four books ascribed to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Each writer told the tale as he heard it, or there- abouts, and gave to his book the name of the saint or the apostle whom tradition had given as the eye-witness. It is only upon this ground that the contradictions in those books can be accounted for ; and if this be not the case, they are downright impositions, lies, and forgeries, without even the apology of credulity. That they have been written by a sort of half Jews, as the fore- going quotations mention, is discernable enough. The frequent references made to that chief assassin and impostor Moses, and to the men called prophets, establishes this point ; and, on the other hand, the church has complimented the fraud, by admitting the Bible and the Testament to reply to each other. Between the Christian Jew and the Christian Gentile, the thing called a pro- phecy, and the thing prophesied ; the type and the thing typified ; the sign and the thing signified, have been industriously rum- maged up, and fitted together like old locks and pick-lock keys. The story foolishly enough told of Eve and the serpent, and naturally enough as to the enmity between men and serpents, (for the serpent always bites about the heel, because it cannot reach 144 THE AGE OF UEASON. [PART II. higher ; and the man always knocks the serpent about the head^ as the most effectual way to prevent its biting ;*) this foolish story, I say, has been made into a prophecy, a type, and a promise to begin with ; and the lying imposition of Isaiah to Ahaz, That a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, as a sign that Ahaz should conquer, when the event was that he was defeated, (as already noticed in the observations on the book of Isaiah,) has been perverted, and made to serve as a winder-up. Jonah and the whale are also made into a sign or a type. Jonah is Jesus, and the whale is the grave : for it is said, (and they have made Christ to say it of himself,) Matt. chap. xvii. v. 40, " For as Jonah was Ihree days and three nights in the whaleV belly, so shall the Son of man be three daijs and three nights in the heart of the earth." But it happens, awkwardly enough, that Christ, according to their own account, was but one day and two nights in the grave ; about 36 hours, instead of 72 : that is, the Friday night, the Saturday, and the Saturday night ; for they say he was up on the Sunday morning by sun-rise, or before. But as this fits q\iite as well as the bite and the kick in Genesis, or the virgin and her son in Isaiah, it will pass in the lump of orthodox things. Thus much for the historical part of the Testament and its evidences. Epistles of Paul — The epistles ascribed to Paul, being four teen in number, almost fill up the remaining part of the Tester- ment. Whether those epistles were written by the person to whom they are ascribed, is a matter of no great importance, since the Avriter, whoever he was, attempts to prove his doctrine by argument. He does not pretend to have been witness to any of the scenes told of the resurrection and the ascension ; and he declares that he had not believed them. The story of his being struck to the ground as he was journey- ing to Damascus, has nothing in it miraculous or extraordinary •, he escaped with life, and that is more than many others have done, who have been struck with lightning ; and that he should loose his sight for three days, and be unable to eat or drink du- ring that time, is nothing more than is common in such con- ditions. His companions that were with him appear not to have suffered in the same manner, for they were well enough to lead ♦ " It shall bruise thy head, and thou shall bruise his heel." Genesis, chap. uL ver. 15. PART II.] THE AGE OF KEASON 145 him the remainder of the journey ; neither did they pretend to have seen any vision. The character of the person called Paul, according to the ac- counts given of him, has in it a great deal of violence and fana- ticism ; he had persecuted with as much heat as he preached afterwards ; the stroke he had received had changed his thinking, without altering his constitution ; and, either as a Jew or a Chris- tianj he was the same zealot. Such men are never good moral evidences of any doctrine they preach. They are always in ex- tremes, as well of actions as of belief. The doctrine he sets out to prove by argument, is the resur- rection of the same body : and he advances this as an evidence of immortality. But so much will men differ in their manner oi thinking, and in the conclusions they draw from the same pre- mises, that this doctrine of the resurrection of the same body, so far from being an evidence of immortality, appears to me to fur- nish an evidence against it ; for if I had already died in this body, and am raised again in the same body in which I have died, it is presumptive evidence that I shall die again. That resurrection no more secures me against the repetition of dying, than an ague fit, when past, secures me against another. To believe, there- fore, in immortality, I must have a more elevated idea than is con- tained in the gloomy doctrine of the resurrection. Besides, as a matter of choice, as well as of hope, I had rather have a better body and a more convenient form than the present. Every animal in the creation excels us in something. The wing- ed insects, without mentioning doves or eagles, can pass over more space and with greater ease, in a few minutes, than man can in an hour. The glide of the smallest fish, in proportion to its bulk, exceeds us in motion, almost beyond comparison, and with- out weariness. Even the sluggish snail can ascend! from the bot- tom of a dungeon, where a man, by the want of that ability, would perish ; and a spider can launch itself from the top, as a playful amusement. The personal powers of man are so limitedv and his heavy frame so little constructed to extensive enjoyment, that there is nothing to induce us to wish the opinion of Paul to be true. It is too little for the magnitude of the scene — too mean for the sublimity of the subject. But all other arguments apart, the conscious7iess of existence is the onlv conceiveable idea we can have of another Hfe^and the 19 146 THE AGE OF REASON. continuance of that consciousness is immortality. The coii- sciousness of existence, or the knowing that we exist, is not necessarily confined to the same form, nor to the same matter, even in this life. We have not in all cases the same form, nor in any case the same matter, that composed our bodies twenty or thirty years ago ; and yet we are conscious of being the same persons. Even legs and arms, which make up almost half the human frame, are not necessary to the coi sciousness of existence. These may be lost or taken away, and the full consciousness of existence remain ; and were their place supplied by wings, or other ap- pendages, we cannot conceive that it could alter our consciousness of existence. In short, we know not how much, or rather how little, of our composition it is, and how exquisitely fine that little is, that creates in us this consciousness of existence ; and all be- yond that is like the pulp of a peach, distinct and separate from the vegetative speck in the kernel. Who can say by what exceeding fine action of fine matter it is that a thought is produced in what we call the mind ? and yet that thought when produced, as I now produce the thought I am writing, is capable of becoming immortal, and is the only pro- duction of man that has that capacity. Statues of brass and marble will perish ; and statues made in imitation of them are not the same statues, nor the same work- manship, any more than the copy of a picture is the same picture. But print and reprint a thought a thousand times over, and that with materials of any kind — carve it in wood, or engrave it on stone, the thought is eternally and identically the same thought in €very case. It has a capacity of unimpaired existence, unaffected by change of matter, and is essentially distinct, and of a nature different from every thing else that we know or can conceive. If then the thing produced has in itself a capacity of being immortal it is more than a token that the power that produced it, which is. the self-same thing as consciousness of existence, can be immor- tal also ; and that is independently of the matter it was first connected with, as the thought is of the printing or writing it first appeared in. The one idea is not more difficult to believe than the other, and we can see that one is true. That the consciousness of existence is not dependent on the earae form or the same matter, is demonstrated to our senses in PART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 147 the works of the creation, as far as our senses are capable of re- ceiving that demonstration. A very numerous part of the animal creation preaches to us, far better than Paul, the belief of a life hereafter. Their little life resembles an earth and a heaven — a present and a future state : and comprises, if it may be so ex- pressed, immortality in miniature. The most beautiful parts of the creation to our eye are the winged insects, and they are not so originally. They acquire that form, and that inimitable brilliancy by progressive changes. The slow and creeping caterpillar-worm of to day, passes in a few days to a torpid figure, and a state resembling death ; and in the next change comes forth in all the miniature magnificence of life, a splendid butterfly. No resemblance of the former creature remains ; every thing is changed ; all his powers are new, and life is to him another thing. We cannot conceive that the con- sciousness of existence is not the same in this state of the animal as before ; why then must I believe that the resurrection of the same body is necessary to continue to me the consciousness of existence hereafter. In the former part of the Age of Reason, I have called the creation the only true and real word of God ; and this instance, of this text, in the book of creation, not only shows to us that this thmg may be so, but that it is so ; and that the belief of a future state is a rational belief, founded upon facts visible in the creation : for it is not more difficult to believe that we shall exist hereafter in a better state and form than at present, than that a worm «should become a butterfly, and quit the dunghill for the atmos- phere, if we did not know it as a fact. As to the doubtful jargon asciibed to Paul in the 15th chapter of 1 Corinthians, which makes part of the burial service of some Christian sectaries, it is as destitute of meaning as the tolling of the bell at the funeral ; it explains nothing to the understanding — it illustrates nothing to the imagination, but leaves the reader to find any meaning if he can. " All flesh, (says he,) is not the same flesh. There is one flesh of men ; another of beasts ; another of fishes ; and another of birds." And what then? — nothing. A cook could have said as much. " There are also, (says he,) bodies celestial and bodies terrestial ; the glory of the celestial is one, and the glory of the terrestial is another." And what then? — nothing. And what is the difference ? nothing that he has told. 148 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART II " There is, (says he,) one glory of the sun, and another glory ol the moon, and another glory of the stars." And what then ? — nothing; except that he says that one star differeth ft^om another star in glory, instead of distance ; and he might as well have told us, that the moon did not shine so bright as the sun. All this is nothing better than the jargon of a conjuror, who picks up phrases he does not understand, to confound the credulous people who come to have their fortunes told. Priests and conjurors are of the same trade. Sometimes Paul affects to be a naturalist and to prove his system of resurrection from the principles of vegetation. " Thou fool, (says he,) that which thou sowest is not quickened except it die." To which one might reply in his own language, and say, Thou fool, Paul, that which thou sowest is not quickened except it die not ; for the grain that dies in the ground never does, nor can vegetate. It is only the living grains that produce the next crop. But the metaphor, in any point of view, is no simile. It is suc- cession, and not resurrection. The progress of an animal from one state of being to another, as from a worm to a butterfly, applies to the case ; but this of a grain does not, and shows Paul to have been what he says ot others, a fool. Whether the fourteen epistles ascribed to Paul were Avritten by him or not, is a matter of indifference ; they are either argumenta- tive or dogmatical ; and as the argument is defective, and the dogmatical part is merely presumptive, it signifies not who wrote them. And the same may be said for the remaining parts of the Testament. It is not upon the epistles, but upon what is called the gospel, contained in the four books ascribed to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, and upon the pretended prophecies, that the theory of the church, calling itself the Christian church, is founded. The epistles are dependent upon those, and must follow their fate ; for if the story of Jesus Christ be fabulous, all reasoning founded upon it as a supposed truth, must fall with it. We know from history, that one of the principal leaders of this church, Athanasius, lived at the time the New Testament was formed ;* and we know also, from the absurd jargon he has left us under the name of a creed, the character of the men who formed the New Testament ; and we know also from the same * Athaoasius died, occordixig to tlie church chronology, in the year 371. PART 11.] THE AGE Of REASON. 149 history, that the authcrrticity of the books of which it is composed was denied at the time. It was upon the vote of such as Athanasi us, that the Testament was decreed to be the word of God ; and nothing can present to us a more strange idea than that of decreeing the word of God by vote. Those who rest their faith upon such authority, put man in the place of God, and have no foundation for future happiness ; credulity, however, is not a crime ; but it becomes criminal by resisting conviction. It is strangling in the womb of the conscience the efforts it makes' to ascertain truth. We should never force belief upon ourselves in any thing. I here close the subject on the Old Testament and the New. The evidence I have produced to prove them forgeries, is ex- tracted from the books themselves, and acts, like a two edged sword, either way. If the evidence be denied, the authenticity of the scriptures is denied with it ; for it is scripture evidence : and if the evidence be admitted, the authenticity of the books is disproved. The contradictory impossibilities contained in the Old Testament and the New, put them in the case of a man who swears for and against. Either evidence convicts him of perjury, and equally destroys reputation. Should the Bible and the Testament hereafter fall, it is not I that have been the occasion. I have done no more than extracted the evidence from that confused mass of matter with which it is mixed, and arranged that evidence in a point of light to be clearly seen and easily comprehended ; and, having done this, I leave the reader to judge for himself, as I have judged for myself. CONCLUSION. In the former part of the Age of Reason, I have spoken of the three frauds, mTjstery, miracle, and prophecy ; and as I have seen nothing in any of the answers to that work, that in the least effects what I have there said upon those subjects, I shall not encumber this Second Part with additions that are not necessary. I have spoken also in the same work upon what is called rere/a- tion, and have shown the absurd misapplication of that term to the books of the Old Testament and the New ; for certainly revela- 150 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART H. lion ia out of the question in reciting any thing of which man has been the actor or the witness. That which a man has done or seen, needs no revelation to tell him he has done it, or seen it ; for he knows it already ; nor to enable him to tell it, or to write it. It is ignorance, or imposition, to apply the term revelation in such cases ; yet the Bible and Testament are classed under this frau- dulent description of being all revelation. Revelation then, so far as the term has relation between God and man, can only be applied to something Avhich God reveals of his tvill to man ; but though the power of the Almighty to make such a communication, is necessarily admitted, because to that power all things are possible, yet, the thing so revealed (if any thing ever was revealed, and which, by the bye, it is impossible to prove) is revelatioa to the person only io xvhom it is made. His account of it to another is not revelation ; and whoever puts faith in that acccount,puts it in the man from whom the account comes; and that man may have been deceived, or may have dreamed it ; or he may be an impostor, and may lie. There is no possible cri- terion whereby to judge of the truth of what he tells : for even the morality of it would be no proof of revelation. In all such cases, the proper answer would be, " When it is revealed io me, 1 will believe it to be a revelation ; bid it is not, and cannot be incumbent upon me to believe it to be revelation before ; neither is it proper that I should take the word of a man as the ivord of God, and put man in the place of God." This is the manner in which I have spoken of revelation in the former part of the Age of Reason ; and which, while it reverentially admits revelation as a possible thing, because, as before said, to the Almighty all things are possible, it prevents the imposition of one man upon another, and precludes the wicked use of pretended revelation. But though, speaking for myself, I thus admit the possibility of revelation, I totally disbelieve that the Almighty ever did com- municate any thing to man, by any mode of speech, in any lan- guage, or by any kind of vision, or appearance, or by any means which our senses are capable of receiving, otherwise than by the universal display of himself in the works of the creation, and by that repugnance we feel in ourselves to bad actions, and disposi- tion to do good ones. The most detestable wickedness, the most horrid cruelties, and the greatest miseries, that have afflicted the human race, have had FART II.] THE AGE OF UEASON. 151 .heir origin in this thing called revelation, or revealed religion. It has been the most dishonorable belief against the character of the Divinity, the most destructive to morality, and the peace and hap- piness of man, that ever was propagated since man began to exist. It is better, far better, that we admitted, if it were possible, a thousand devils to roam at large, and to preach publicly the doc- trine of devils, if there were any such, than that we permitted one such imposter and monster as Moses, Joshua, Samuel, and the Bible prophets, to come with the pretended word of God in his mouth, and have credit among us. T\'Tience arose all the horrid assassinations of whole nations of men, women, and infants, with which the Bible is filled : and the bloody persecutions, and tortures unto death, and religious wars, that since that time have laid Europe in blood and ashes ; whence arose they, but from this impious thing called revealed religion, and this monstrous belief, that God has spoken to man ? The lies of the Bible have been the cause of the one, iand the lies of the Testament of the other. Some Christians pretend, that Christianity was not established by the sword ; but of what period of time do they speak? It was impossible that twelve men could begin with the sword ; they had not the power ; but no sooner were the professors of Christianity sufficiently powerful to employ the sword, than they did so, and the stake and the faggot too ; and Mahomet could not do it sooner. By the same spirit that Peter cut off the ear of the high priest's servant (if the story be true) he would have cut off his head, and the head of his master, had he been able. Besides this, Chris- tianity grounds itself originally upon the Bible, and the Bible was established altogether by the sword, and that in the worst use of it ; not to terrify, but to extirpate. The Jews made no converts ; they butchered all. The Bible is the sire of the Testament, and both are called the word of God. The Christians read both books ; the ministers preach from both books ; and this thing called Chris- tianity is made up of both. It is then false to say that Christianity vvras not established by the sword. The only sect that has not persecuted are the Quakers ; and the only reason that can be given for it is, that they are rather Deists than Christians. They do not believe much about Jesus Christ, and they call the Scriptures a dead letter. Had they called them by a worse name, they had been nearer the truth. 152 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART II. It is incumbent on every man who reverences the character ot vhe Creator, and who \yishes to lessen the catalogue of artificial miseries, and remove the cause that has sown persecutions thick among mankind, to expel all ideas of revealed religion as a danger ous heresy, and an impious fraud. What is it that we have learned from this pretended thing called revealed religion 1 — nothing that IS useful to man, and every thing that is dishonourable to his Ma- imer. What is it the Bible teaches us ? — rapine, cruelty, and mur- der. What is it the Testament teaches us 1 — to believe that the Almighty committed debauchery with a woman, engaged to be married ! and the belief of this debauchery is called faith. As to the fragments of morality that are irregularly and thinly scattered in those books, they make no part of this pretended thing revealed religion. They are the natural dictates of conscience, and the bonds by which society is held together, and without which it cannot exist ; and are nearly the same in all religions, and in all societies. The Testament teaches nothing new upon this subject, and where it attempts to exceed, it becomes mean and ridiculous. The doctrine of not retaliating injuries, is much better expressed in proverbs, which is a collection as well from the Gentiles as the Jews, than it is in the Testament. It is there said, Proverbs xxv ver. 21, " If thine enemy be hiingi-y, give him bread to eat ; and ij he be thirsty, give himttater to drink ;*" but when it is said, as in the Testament, ^^ If a man smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other also ;" it is assassinating the dignity of forbearance . and sinking man into a spaniel. Loving enemies, is another dogma of feigned morality, and has besides no meaning. It is incumbent on man, as a moralist, that he does not revenge an injury ; and it is equally as good in a po- litical sense, for there is no end to retaliation, each retaliates on * According to what is called Christ's sermon on the mount, in the book of Matthew, where, amon^ some other good tilings, a great deal of this feigned morality is introduced, it is there expressly said, that the doctrine of forbear- ance, or of not retaliating injuries, %oas not any part of the doctrine of the Jews ; but as this doctrine is founded in proverbs, it must, according to that state- ment, have been copied from the Gentiles, from whom Christ had learned it. Those men, whom Jewish and Christian idolators have abusively called hea- thens, had much better and clearer ideas of justice and morality, than are to be found in the Old Testament, so far as it is Jewish ; or in the New. The answer of Solon on the question, " Which is the most perfect popular govern- ment," has never been exceeded by any man since his time, as containing a maxim of political morality. " That," says he, " where the least injury dont to the meanest individual, is considered as an insult on the whole constitution.^' €olon lived about 500 years before Christ. PART II. J THE AGE OF REASON. 153 Uie other, and calls it justice ; but to love in proportion to the in- jury, if it could be done, would be to offer a premium for crime. Besides the word enemies is too vague and general to be used in a moral maxim, which ought always to be clear and defined, like a proverb. If a man be the enemy of another frcm mistake and prejudice, as in the case of religious opinions, and sometimes in politics, that man is different to an enemy at heart with a criminal intention ; and it is incumbent upon us, and it contributes also to our own tranquillity, that we put the best construction upon a thing that it will bear. But even this erroneous motive in him, makes no motive for love on the other part ; and to say that we can love voluntarily, and without a motive, is morally and physically impos- sible. Morality is injured by prescribing to it duties, that, in the first place, are impossible to be performed ; and, if they could be, would be productive of evil ; or, as before said, be premiums for crime. The maxim of doing as loe would he done unto, does not include this strange doctrine of loving enemies ; for no man ex- pects to be loved himself for his crime or for his enmity. Those who preach this doctrine of loving their enemies, are in general the greatest persecutors, and they act consistently by so doing ; for the doctrine is hypocritical, and it is natural that hypo- crisy should act the reverse of what it preaches. For my own part, I disown the doctrine, and consider it as a feigned or fabu- lous morality ; yet the man does not exist that can say I have persecuted him, or any man or any set of men, either in the Ameri- can Revolution, or in the French Revolution ; or that I have, in any case, returned evil for evil. But it is not incumbent on man to reward a bad action with a good one, or to return good for evil ; and wherever it is done, it is a voluntary act, and not a duty. It is also absurd to suppose that such doctrine can make any part of a revealed religion. We imitate the moral character of the Cre- ator by forbearing with each other, for he forbears with all ; but this doctrine would imply that he loved man, not in proportion as he was good, but as he was bad. If we consider the nature of our condition here, we must see there is no occasion for such a thing as revealed religion. What is it we want to know ] Does not the creation, the universe we be- nold, preach to us the existence of an Almighty power that go- ems and regulates the whole ? And is not the evidence that 20 154 THE AGE OP REASON. [PART II this creation holds out to our senses infinitely stronger than any thing we can read in a book, that any imposter might make and call the word of God 1 As for morality, the knowledge of it exists in every man's conscience. Here we are. The existence of an Almlghti power is sufficient ly demonstrated to us, though we cannot conceive, as it is impos- sible we should, the nature and manner of its existence. We can- not conceive how we came here ourselves, and yet we know for a fact that we are here. We must know also, that the power that called us into being, can, if he please, and when he pleases, call us to account for the manner in which we have lived here ; and, therefore, without seeking any other motive for the belief, it is ra- tional to believe that he will, for we know before-hand that he can. The probability, or even possibility of the thing is all that we ought to know ; for if we knew it as a fact, we should be the mere slaves of terror : our belief would have no merit ; and our best actions no virtue. Deism then teaches us, without the possibihty of being deceiv ed, all that is necessary or proper to be known. The creation is the Bible of the Deist. He there reads, in the hand-writing of the Creator himself, the certainty of his existence, and the immutabi lity of his power, and all other Bibles and Testaments are to him forgeries. The probability that we may be called to account hereafter, will, to a reflecting mind, have the influence of belief; for it is not our belief or disbelief that can make or unmake the fact. As this is the state we are in, and which it is proper we should be in, as free agents, it is the fool only, and not the philo- sopher, or even the prudent man, that would hve as if there were no God. But the belief of a God is so weakened by being mixed with the strange fable of the Christian creed, and with the wild adventures related in the Bible, and of the obscurity and obscene nonsense of the Testament, that the mind of man is bewildered as in a fog. Viewing all these things in a confused mass, he confounds fact with fable ; and as he cannot believe all, he feels a disposition to reject all. But the belief of a God is a belief distinct from all other things, and ought not to be confounded with any. The no- tion of a Trinity of Gods has enfeebled the belief of one God. A multiphcation of beliefs acts as a division of belief: and in pro- portion as any thing is Jivided it is weakened. PART II.] THE AGE OF HEASON. 155 Religion, by such means, becomes a thing of forn ,, instead of fact ; of notion, instead of principles ; morality is banished, to make room for an imaginary thing, called faith, and this faith has its origin in a supposed debauchery ; a man is preached instead of God ; an execution is an object for gratitude ; the preachers daub themselves with the blood, like a troop of assassins, and pretend to admire the brilliancy it gives them ; they preach a humdrum sermon on the merits of the execution ; then praise Jesus Christ for being executed, and condemn the Jews for do- ing it. A man, by hearing all this nonsense lumped and preached toge- ther, confounds the God of the creation with the imagined God of the Christians, and lives as if there were none. Of all the systems of religion that ever were invented, there is none more derogatory to the Almighty, more unedifying to man, more repugnant to reason, and more contradictory in itself, than this thing called Christianity. Too absurd for belief, too impossi- ble to convince, and too inconsistent for practice, it renders the heart torpid, or produces only atheists and fanatics. As an en- gine of power, it serves the purpose of despotism ; and as a means of wealth, the avarice of priests ; but so far as respects the good of man in general, it leads to nothing here or hereafter. The only religion that has not been invented, and that has in it every evidence of divine originality, is pure and simple Deism. It must have been the first, and will probably be the last that man believes. But pure and simple Deism does not answer the pur- pose of despotic governments. They cannot lay hold of religion as an engine, but by mixing it with human inventions, and making their own authority a part ; neither does it answer the avarice of priests but by incorporating themselves and their functions with it, and becoming, like the government, a party in the system. It is this that forms the otherwise mysterious connection of church and state ; the church humane, and the state tyrannic. Were man impressed as fully and as strongly as he ought to be with the belief of a God, his moral life would be regulated by the force of that belief ; he would stand in awe of God, and of him- self, and would not do the thing that could not be concealed from either. To give this belief the full opportunity offeree, it is ne- cessary that it acts alone. This is Deism. 156 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART II, But when, according to the Christian Trinitarian scheme, one part of God is represented by a dying man, and another part called the Holy Ghost, by a flying pigeon, it is impossible that belief can attach itself to such wild conceits.* It has been the scheme of the Christian church, and of all the other invented systems of religion, to hold man m ignorance of the Creator, as it is of government to hold man m ignorance of his rights. The systems of the one are as false as those of the other, and are calculated for mutual support. The study of theology, as it stands in Christian churches, is the study of nothing ; it is founded on nothing ; it rests on no principles ; it proceeds by no authorities ; it has no data ; it can demonstrate nothing ; and it admits of no conclusion. Not any thing can be studied as a sci- ence, without our being in possession of the principles upon which it is founded ; and as this is not the case with Christian theology, it is therefore the study of nothing. Instead then of studying theology, as is now done, out of the Bible and Testament, the meanings of which books are always controverted, and the authenticity of which is disproved, it is necessary that we refer to the Bible of the creation. The prin- ciples we discover there are eternal, and of divine origin : they are the foundation of all the science that exists in the world, and must be the foundation of theology. We can know God only through his works. We cannot have a conception of any one attribute, but by following some principle that leads to it. We have only a confused idea of his power, if we have not the means of comprehending something of its im- mensity. We can have no idea of his wisdom, but by knowing the order and manner in which it acts. The principles of science lead to this knowledge ; for the Creator of man is the Creator of science ; and it is through that medium that man can see God, as it were, face to face. Could a man be placed in a situation, and endowed with the power of vision, to behold at one view, and to contemplate delibe- rately, the structure of the universe ; to mark the movements of * Tlie book called the book of Matthew, says, chap. ili. ver, 16, that the Holy Ghost descended in the shape of a dove. It might as well have said a ^oose ; the creatures are equally harmless, and the one is as much a nonsensical lie as the other. The second of Acts, ver. 2, 3, says, that it descended in a mighty rushing loind, in the sliipe of cloven tongues: perhaps it was cloven feet. Such absurd stuff is only fit for tales of witches and wizards. PAKT II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 157 the several planets, the cause of their varying appearances, the unerring order in which they revolve, even to the remotest comet ; their connection and dependence on each other, and to know the system of laws established by the Creator, that governs and regu- lates the whole ; he would then conceive, far beyond what any church theology can teach him, the power, the wisdom, the vast- ness, the munificence of the Creator ; he would then see, that all the knowledge man has of science, and that all the mechanical arts by which he renders his situation comfortable here, are derived from that source : his mind, exalted by the scene, and convinced by the fact, would increase in gratitude as it increased in know- ledge ; his religion or his worship would become united with his improvement as a man ; any employment he followed, that had connection with the piinciples of the creation, as every thing of agriculture, of science, and of the mechanical arts, has, would teach him more of God, and of the gratitude he owes to him, than any theological Christian sermon he now hears. Great objects inspire great thoughts ; great munificence excites great gratitude ; but the groveling tales and doctrines of the Bible and the Testa- ment are fit only to excite contempt. Though man cannot arrive, at least in this life, at the actual scene I have described, he can demonstrate it ; because he has a knowledge of the principles upon which the creation is constructed. We know that the greatest works can be represented in model, and that the universe can be represented by the same means. The same principles by which we measure an inch, or an acre of ground, will measure to millions in extent. A circle of an inch diameter, has the same geometrical properties as a circle that would circumscribe the universe. The same properties of a triangle that will demonstrate upon paper the course of a ship, will do it on the ocean ; and when applied to what are called the heavenly bodies, will ascertain to a minute the time of an eclipse, though these bodies are millions of miles distant from us. This knowledge is of divine origin ; and it is from the Bible of the creation that man has learned it, and not from the stupid Bible of the church, that teacheth man nothing.* * The Bible-makers have undertaken to give us, in the flrst chapter or Genesis, an account of the creation ; and in doing this they have demonstrated nothing but their ignorance. They make there to have oecn tlircc days and three nights, evenings and morninjjs, before there was a sun ; when it is the presence or al.>seuce of a sun that is the cause of day and night — and what is 158 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART II All the knowledge man has of science and of machinery, by the aid of which his existence is rendered comfortable upon earth, and without which he would be scarcely distinguishable in appear- ance and condition from a common animal, comes from the great machine and structure of the universe. The constant and un- wearied observations of our ancestors upon the movemeots and revolutions of the heavenly bodies, in what are supposed to have been the early ages of the world, have brought this knowledge upon earth. It is not Moses and the prophets, nor Jesus Christ, nor his apostles that have done it. The Almighty is the great mechanic of the creation ; the first philosopher and original teacher of all science ; — Let us then learn to reverence our mas- ter, and not let us forget the labours of our ancestors. Had we, at this day, no knowledge of machinery, and were it possible that man could have a view, as I have before described, of the structure and machinery of the universe, he would soon conceive the idea of constructing some at least of the mechanical works we now have : and the idea so conceived would progres- sively advance in practice. Or could a model of the universe, such as is called an orrery, be presented before him and put in motion, his mind would arrive at the same idea. Such an object and such a subject would, whilst it improved him in knowledge useful to himself as a man and a member of society, as well as entertaining, afTord far better matter for impressing him with a knowledge of, and a belief in the Creator, and of the reverence and gratitude that man owes to him, than the stupid texts of the Bible and of the Testament, from which, be the talents of the preacher what they may, only stupid sermons can be preached. If man must preach, let him preach something that is edifying, and from texts that are known to be true. The Bible of the creation is inexhaustible in texts. Every part called his risino; and setting, that of morning and evening. Besides, it is a pue- rile and pitifuHdea, to suppose the Almighty to say, "Let there be light." It is the imperative manner of speaking that a conjurer uses, when he says to his cups and balls, Presto, be gone — and most probably has been taken from it, as Moses and his rod are a conjurer and his wand. Longinus calls this ex- pression the sublime ; and by the same rule the conjurer is sublime too ; for the manner of speaking is expressively and grammatically the same. When authors and critics talk of the sublime, they see not how nearly it borders on the ridiculous. The sublime of the critics, like some parts of Edmund Burke's sublime and beautiful, is like a wind-mill just visible in a fog, which im- magination might distort into a flying mountain, or an archangel, or a flock of \vild geese. PART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 159 of science, whether connected with the geometry of the universe, with the systems of animal and vegetable life, or with the proper- ties of inanimate matter, is a text as well for devotion as for philo- sophy — for gratitude as for human improvement. It will perhaps be said, that if such a revolution in the system of religion takes place, every preacher ought to be a philosopher. — J[Iost certainly • and every house of devotion a school of science. It has been by wandering from the immutable laws of science, and the right use of reason, and setting up an invented thing called revealed religion, that so many wild and blasphemous conceits have been formed of the Almighty. The Jews have made him the assassin of the human species, to make room for the religion of the Jews. The Christians have made him the murderer of him- self, and the founder of a new religion, to supercede and expel the Jewish religion. And to find pretence and admission for these things, they must have supposed his power and his wisdom imper- fect, or his will changeable ; and the changeableness of the will is the imperfection of the judgment. The philosopher knows that the laws of the Creator have never changed with respect either to the principles of science, or the properties of matter. Why then is it to be supposed they have changed with respect to man ? I here close the subject. I have shown in all the foregoing parts of this work that the Bible and Testament are impositions and forgeries ; and I leave the evidence I have produced in proof of it t.0 be refuted, if any one can do it : and I leave the ideas that are suggested in the conclusion of the work to rest on the mind of the reader ; certain as I am, that when opinions are free, either in matters of government or -eligion, truth will finally and powerfully prevail. THE END. LETTER; BEING AN ANSWER TO A FRIEND. ON THE PUBLICATION OF THE AGE OF REASON. PARIS, MAT 12, 1797. In your letter of the 20th of March, you gave me several quo- tations from the Bible, which you call the tvord of God, to show me that my opinions on religion are wrong, and 1 could give you as many, from the same book, to show that yours are not right ; consequently, then, the Bible decides nothing, because it decides any way, and every way, one chooses to make it. But by what authority do you call the Bible the word of God ? for this is the first point to be settled. It is not your calling it so that makes it so, any more than the Mahometans calling the Koran the word of God makes the Koran to be so. The Popish Councils of Nice and Laodicea, about 350 years after the time that the person called Jesus Christ is said to have lived, voted the books, that now compose what is called the New Testament,, to bo the word of God. This was done by yeas and naySy as we now vote a law. The Pharisees of the second Temple, after the Jews returned from captivity in Babylon, did the same by the books that now compose the Old Testament, and this is all the authority there is, which to me is no authority at all. I am as ca- pable of judging for myself as they were, and I think more so, because, as they made a living by their religion^ they had a selA- interest in the vote they gave. 21 162 LETTER TO A FRIEND. You may have an opinion that a man is inspired, but you can- not prove it, nor can you have any proof of it yourself, because you cannot see into his mind in order to know how he comes by his thoughts, and the same is the case with the word revelation. — There can be no evidence of such a thing, for you can no more prove revelation, than you can prove what another man dreams of, neither can he prove it himself. It is often said in the Bible that God spake unto Moses, but how do you know that God spake unto Moses 1 Because, you will say, the Bible says so. The Koran says, that God spake unto Mahomet, do you believe that too? No. Why not ? Because, you will say, you do not believe it ; and so because you do, and because you donH, is all the reason you can give for believing or disbelieving, except you will say that INIahomet was an impostor. And how do you know Moses was not an iniposter 1 For my own part, I believe that all are imposters who pretend to hold verbal communication with the Deity. It is the way by which the world has been imposed upon ; but if you think otherwise you have the same right to your opinion that I have to mine, and must answer for it m the same manner. But all this does not settle the point, •whether the Bible be the word of God, or not. It is, therefore, ne- cessary to go a step further. The case then is : — You form your opinion of God from the account given of him m the Bible ; and I form my opinion of the Bible from the wis- dom and goodness of God, manifested in the structure of the uni- verse, and in all the works of the Creation. The result in these two cases will be, that you, by taking the Bible for your standard, will have a bad opinion of God; and I, by taking God for my standard, shall have a bad opinion of the Bible. The Bible represents God to be a changeable, passionate, vin- dictive being ; making a world, and then drowning it, afterwards repenting of what he had done, anu promising not to do so again. Setting one nation to cut the throats of another, and stopping the course of the sun till the butchery should be done. But the works of God, in the Creation, preach to us another doctrine. In that vast volume we see nothing to give us the idea of a changeable, passionate, vindictive God, every thing we there behold impresses us with a contrary idea ; that of unchangeableness and of eternal order, harmony, and goodness. The sun and the seasons return at their appointed time, and every thing in the Creation proclaims LETTER TO A FRIEND. 163 that God is unchangeable. Now, Avhich am I to believe, a book that any impostor may make, and call the ivord of God, or the Creation itself which none but an Almighty Power could make, for the Bil)le says one thing, and the Creation says the contrary. The Bible represents God with all the passions of a mortal, and the Creation proclaims him with all the attributes of a God. If is from the Bible that man has learned cruelty, rapine, and murder ; for the belief of a cruel God makes a cruel man. That blood-thirsty man, called the prophet Samuel, makes God to say, (1 Sam. chap. xv. ver. 3,) " Now go and smite Amaleck, and utterly destroy all that they have, and spare them not, hut slay both man and rvoman, infant and suckling, ox and sheep, camel and as*." That Samuel, or some other impostor, might say this, is what, at this distance of time, can neither be proved nor disproved, but, in my opmion, it is blasphemy to say, or to believe, that God said it. All our ideas of the justice and goodness of God revolt at the impious cruelty of the Bible. It is not a God, just and good, but a devil, under the name of God, that the Bible describes. "What makes this pretended order to destroy the Amalekites ap- pear the worse, is the reason given for it. The Amalekites, four hundred years before, according to the account in Exodus, chap. 17, (but which has the appearance of fable from the magical ac- count it gives of Moses holding up his hands,) had opposed the Israelites coming into their country, and this the Amalekites had a right to do, because the Israelites were the invaders, as the Spaniards were the invaders of Mexico ; and this opposition by the Amalekites, at that time, is given as a reason, that the men, women, infants and sucklings, sheep and oxen, camels and asses, that were born four hundred years afterwards, should be put to death ; and to complete the horror, Samuel hewed Agag, the chief of the Amalekites, in pieces, as you would hew a stick of wood, I will bestow a few observations on this case. In the first place, nobody knows who the author, or writer, of the book of Samuel was, and, therefore, (he fact itself has no other proof than anonymous or hearsay evidence, which is no evidence at all. In the second place, this anonymous book says, that this slaughter was done by the express command of God : but' all our ideas of the justice and goodness of God give the lie to the book, and as I never will believe any book that ascribes cruelty 164 LETTER TO A FRIEND. And injustice to God. I, therefore, reject the Bible as unworthy of credit. As I have now given you my reasons for believing that the Bible 13 not the word of God, and that it is a falsehood, I have a right to ask you your reasons for believing the contrary ; but I know you can give me none, except that you were educated to believe the Bible, and as the Turks give the same reason for believing the Koran, it is evident that education makes all the difference, and that reason and truth have nothing to do in the case. You be- lieve in the Bible from the accident of birth, and the Turks believe in the Koran from the same accident, and each calls the other in- Jidel. — But leaving the prejudice of education out of the case, the unprejudiced truth is, that all are infidels who believe false- ly of God, whether they draw their creed from the Bible, or from the Koran, from the Old Testament or from the New. When you have examined the Bible with the attention that I have done, (for I do not think you know much about it,) and per- mit yourself to have just ideas of God, you will most probably believe as I do. But I wish you to know that this answer to your letter is not written for the purpose of changing your opinion. It is written to satisfy you, and some other friends whom I esteem, that my disbelief of the Bible is founded on a pure and religious belief in God ; for, in my opinion, the Bible is a gross libel against the justice and goodness of God, in almost every part of it. THOMAS PAINE. LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE * Of all the tyrannies that afflict mankind, tyranny in religion is the worst : every other species of tyranny is limited to the world we live in ; but this attempts a stride beyond the grave, and seeks to pursue us into eternity. It is there and not here — it is to God and not to man — it is to a heavenly and not to an earthly tribunal that we are to account for our belief; if then we believe falsely and dishonourably of the Creator, and that belief is forced upon us, as far as force can operate by human laws and human tribu- nals, — on whom is the criminality of that belief to fall 1 on those who impose it, or on those on whom it is imposed ? A bookseller of the name of Williams has been prosecuted in London on a charge of blasphemy, for publishing a book entitled the Age of Reason. Blasphemy is a word of vast sound, but equivocal and almost indefinite signification, unless we confine it to the simple idea of hurting or injuring the reputation of any one, which was its original meaning. As a word, it existed before Christianity existed, being a Greek word, or Greek anglofied, as all the etymological dictionaries will show. But behold how various and contradictory has been the signifi- cation and application of this equivocal word. Socrates, who lived more than four hundred years before the Christian era, was * Mr. Paine has evidently incorporated into this Letter a portion of his an- swer to Bishop Watson's "Apology for the Bible ;" as in a chapter of that work, treating of the Book of Genesis, he expressly refers to his remarks, in a preceding part of the same, on the two accounts of the creation contained in that book ; which is included in this letter. 166 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. convicted of blasphemy, for preaching against the belief of a plu- lality of gods, and for preaching the belief of one god, and was condemned to suffer death by poison. Jesus Christ was convict- ed of blasphemy under the Jewish law, and was crucified. Call- ing Mahomet an impostor would be blasphemy in Turkey ; and denying the infallibility of the Pope, and the Church, would be blasphemy at Rome. What then is to be understood by this word blasphemy ? We see that in the case of Socrates truth was con- demned as blasphemy. Are we sure that truth is not blasphemy in the present day 1 Woe, however, be to those who make it so, whoever they may be. A book called the Bible has been voted by men, and decreed by human laws to be the word of God ; and the disbelief of this is called blasphemy. But if the Bible be not the word of God, it iij the laws and the execution of them that is blasphemy, and not the disbelief. Strange stories are told of the Creator in that book. He is represented as acting under the influence of every human passion, even of the most malignant kind. If these stories are false, we err in believing them to be true, and ought not to believe them. It is, therefore, a duty which every man owes to himself, and icverentially to his Maker, to ascertain, by every possible in- quiry, whether there be sufficient evidence to believe them or not. My own opinion is, decidedly, that the evidence does not warrant the belief, and that we sin in forcing that belief upon ourselves and upon others. In saying this, I have no other object in view than truth. But tha* T. may not be accused of resting upon bare asser- tion with respect to the equivocal state of the Bible, I will produce an example, and I will not pick and cull the Bible for the purpose. I will" go fairly to the case : I will take the two first chapters of Genesis as they stand, and show from thence the truth of what I say, that is, that the evidence does not warrant the belief that the Bible is the word of God. CHAPTER I. 1. In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. 2. And the earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the djep ; and the spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. LETTER TO MR. EUSKINE. 167 3. And God said, Let there be light ; and there was light. 4. And God saw the light, that it was good : and God divided the light from darkness. 5. And God called the light day, and the darkness he called night : and the evening and the morning were the first day. 6. IT And God said, Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters. 7. And God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under the firmament, from the waters which were above the firmament : and it was so. 8. And God called the firmament heaven ; and the evening and the morning were the second day. 9. IT And God said. Let the waters under the heaven be gather- ed together unto one place, and let the dry land appear : and it was so. 10. And God called the dry land earth, and the gathering to- gether of the waters called he seas, and God saw that it was good. 11. And God said. Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb, yielding seed, and the fruit-tree yielding fruit after his kind, whoso seed is in itself, upon the earth, and it was so. 12. And the earth brought forth grass, and herb yielding seed after his kind, and the tree yielding fruit, whose seed was in itself, after his kind : and God saw that it was good. 13. And the evening and the morning were the third day. 14. IT And God said. Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven, to divide the day from the night : and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years. 15. And let them be for lights in the firmament of the heaven, to give light upon the earth : and it was so. 16. And God made two great lights ; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night : he made the stars also. 17. And God set them in the firmament of the heaven, to give light upon the earth, IS. And to rule over the day and over the night, and to divide the light from the darkness ; and God saw that it was good. 19. And the evening and the morning were the fourth day. 20. And God said, Let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving creature that hath life, and fowl that may fly above tha earth in the open firmament of heaven. 188 LETTER TO 1N£R. EUSKINE. 21. And God created great whales, and every living creature that moveth, which the waters brought forth abundantly after their kind, and every winged fowl after his kind : and God saw that it was good. 22. And God blessed them, saying, Be fruitful, and multiply, and fill the waters in the seas, and let fowl multiply in the earth. 23. And the evening and the morning were the fifth day. 24. IF And God said. Let the earth bring forth the living crea- ture after his kind, cattle and creeping thing and beast of the earth after his kind : and it was so. 25. And God made the beast of the earth after his kind, and cattle after their kind, and every thing that creepeth upon the earth after his kind : and God saw that it was good. 26. IT And God said. Let us make man in our image, after oui likeness : and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth. 27. So God created man m his oivn image, i?i the image of God created he him : male and female created he them. 28. Jliid God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruit- ful, and multiplij, and replenish the earth, and subdue it ; and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth. 29. IT And God said. Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed : to you it shall be for meat. 30. And to every beast of the earth, and to every fowl of the air, and to every thing that creepeth upon the earth, wherein there is life, I have given every green herb for meat : and it was so. 3L And God saw every thing that he had made, and behold it was very good. And the evening and the morning were the sixth day. CHAPTER n. 1. Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the host of them LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 169 2. And on the seventh day God ended his work which he had made, and he rested on the seventh day from all his work which he bad made. 3. And God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it : because &at in it he had rested from all his work, which God created and made. 4. IT These are the generations of the heavens and of the earth, when they were created ; in the day that the Lord God made the earth and the heavens. 5. And every plant of the field, before it was m the earth, and every herb of the field, before it grew ; for the Lord God had not caused it to rain upon the earth, and there ivas not a man to till the ground. 6. But there went up a mist from the earth, and watered the whole face of the ground. 7. And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life ; and man became a hving soul. 8. And the Lord God planted a garden eastward of Eden ; and there he put the man whom he had formed. 9. And out of the ground made the Lord God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight, and good for food ; the tree of life also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil. 10. And a river went out of Eden to water the garden : and from thence it was parted, and became into four heads. 1 1 . The name of the first is Pison : that is it which compasseth the whole land of Havilah, where there is gold. 12. And the gold of that land is good : there is bdellium and the onyx-stone. 13. And the name of the second river is Gibon : the same is it that compasseth the whole land of Ethiopia. 14. And the name of the third river is Heddekel : that is it which goeth toward the east of Assyria. And the fourth river is Euphrates. 15. And the Lord God took the man, and put him into the gar den of JRden, to dress it and to keep it. 170 LETTER TO Mli. ERSKINE. 16. And the Lord God commanded the man, saying, of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat : 17. But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shall not eat of it ; for in the day that thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die. 18. IT And the Lord God said, it is not good that the man should be alone : I will make him an help meet for him. 19. And out of the ground the Lord God formed every beast of the field, and every fowl of the air, and brought them unto Adam, to see what he would call them ; and whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that was the name thereof. 20. And Adam gave names to all cattle, and to the fowl of the air, and to every beast of the field ; but for Adam there was not found an help meet for him. 21. And the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam, and he slept ; and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof. 22. And the rib which the Lord God had taken from man, made he a woman, and ^r_ jght her unto the man. 23. And Adam said, this is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh ; she shall be called woman, because she was taken out of man. 24. Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife ; and they shall be one flesh. 25. And they were both naked, the man and his wife, and were not ashamed. These two chapters are called the Mosaic account of the crea tion ; and we are told, nobody knows by whom, that Moses. was instructed by God to write that account. It has happened that every nation of people has been world makers ; and each makes the world to begin his own way, as if they had all been brought up, as Hudibras says, to the trade. There are hundreds of different opinions and traditions how the world began.* My business, however, in this place, is only with those two chapters. * In this world-making trade, man, of course, has held a conspicuous place; and, for the gratification of he curious enquirer, the editor subioins two spo- LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 171 I begin then by saying, tliat those two chapters, instead of containing, as has been beheved, one continued account of the creation, written by Moses, contain two different and con- cimens of the opinions of learned men, in rfi^ard to the manner of liis forma- tion, and of his subsequent fall. The first he extracts from the Talmud, a work containing the Jewish traditions, the rabbinical constitutions, and explication of the law ; and is of great authority among the Jews. It was composed by certain learned rabbins, comprehends twelve bulky folios, and forty years are said to have been consumed in its compilation. In fact, it is deemed to con- tain the ichole body of divinity for the Jewish nation. Although the Scrip- tures tell us that the Lord God formed man of the dxist of the grotind, they do not explain the manner in which it was done, and these doctors supply the deficiency as follows : — "Adam's body was made of the earth of Babylon, his head of the land of Israel, his other members of other parts of the world. R. Meir thought he was compact of the earth, gathered out of the whole earth ; as it is written, thine eyes did see my substance. Now it is elsewhere written, the eyes of the Lord are over all the earth. R. Aha expressly marks the twelve hours in which his various parts were formed. His stature was from one end of the world to the other ; and it was for his transgression that the Creator, laying his hand in anger on him, lessened him ; for before, says R. Eleazer, with his hand he reached the firmament. R. Jehuda thinks his sin was heresy ; but R. Isaac thinks it was nourishing his foreskin." The Mahometan savans give the following account of the same transac tion : — " When God wished to create man, he sent the angel Gabriel to take a handful! of each of the seven beds which composed the earth. But when the latter heard the order of God, she felt much alarmed, and requested the heavenly messenger to represent to God, that as the creature he was about to form might chance to rebel one day against him, this would be the means of bringing upon herself the divine malediction. God, however, far from listening to this request, despatched two other angels, Michael and Azrael, to execute his will ; but they, moved with compassion, were prevailed upon again to lay the complaints of the earth at the feet of her author. Then God confined the execution of his commands to the formidable Azrael alone, who, regardless of all the earth might say, violently tore from her bosom seven handfuls from her various strata, and carried them into Arabia, where the work of creation was to be completed. As to Azrael, God was so well pleased with the decisive manner in which he had acted, that he gave him the office of separating the soul from the body, whence he is called the Angel of Death. "Meanwhile, the angels having kneaded this earth, God moulded it with his own hands, and left it some time that it might get dry. The angels de lighted to gaze upon the lifeless, but beautiful mass, with the exception of Eblis, or Lucifer, who, bent upon evil, struck it upon the stomach, which giving a hollow sound, he said, since this creature will be hollow, it will often need being filled, and will be, therefore, exposed to pregnant tempta- tions. Upon this, he asked the angels how they would act if God wished to render them dependent upon this sovereign which he was about to give to the earth. They readily answered that they would obey ; but though Eblis did not openly dissent, he resolved within himself that he would not follow their example. " After the body of the first man had been properly preparer. God animated it with an intelligent soul, and clad him in splendid and marvellous garments, suited to the dignity of this favoured being. He now commanded his angels to fall prostrate before Adam. All of them obeyed, with the exception of Ebhs, who was in consequence immediately expelled from heaven, and his p.ace given to Adam. " The formation of Eve from one of the ribs of the first man, is the same as that recorded in the Bible, as is also the order given to the father of mankind, not to taste tlie fruit of a particular t/ee. Eblis seized tliis opportunity of re- 172 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. tradictory stories of a creation, made by two different persons, and written in two different styles of expression. The evidence that shows this is so clear, when attended to without prejudice, that, did we meet with the same evidence in any Arabic or Chi- nese account of a creation, we should not hesitate in pronouncing it a forgery. I proceed to distinguish the two stories from each other. The first story begins at the first verse of the first chapter, and ends at the end of the third verse of the second chapter; for the adverbial conjunction, THUS, with which the second chapter begins, (as the reader will see,) connects itself to the last verse of the first chapter, and those three verses belong to, and make the conclusion of the first story. The second story begins at the fourth verse of the second chapter, and ends with that chapter. Those two stories have been confused into one, by cutting off the three last verses of the first story, and throwing them to the second chapter. I go now to show that those stories have been written by two different persons. From the first verse of the first chapter to the end of the third verse of the second chapter, which makes the whole of the first story, the word GOD is used without any epithet or additional word conjoined with it, as the reader will see : and this style of expression is invariably used throughout the whole of this story, and is repeated no less than thirty-five times, viz. " In the begin- ning God created the heavens and the earth, and the spirit of God venge. Havins; associated the peacock and the serpent in the enterprise, they by their wily speeches at length persuaded Adam to become giiilty of dis- obedience. But no sooner had they touched the forbidden fruit, than their garments dropped on the ground, and the sight of their nakedness covered them both with shame and with confusion. They made a covering for their body with fig leaves ; but they were both immediately condemned to labour, and to die, and hurled down from Paradise. "Adam fell upon the mountain of Sarendip, in the island of Ceylon, where a mountain is called by his name to the present day. Eve, being separated from her spouse in her fall, alighted on the spot where China now stands, and Eblis fell not far from the same spot. As to the peacock and the snake, the former dropped in Hindostan and the latter in Arabia. Adam soon feeling tlie enormity of his fault, implored the mercy of God, who relenting, sent down his angels from heaven with a tabernacle, which they placed on the spot where Abraham., at a subsequent period, built the temple of Mecca. Gabriel instructed him in the rites and ceremonies performed about the sane tuary, in order that he might obtain the forgiveness of his offence, and after- wards led him to the mountain of Ararat, where he met Eve, from whom ho had been now separated above two hundred years." LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 173 moved on the lace of the waters, and God said, let there be lighg and God saw the hght," &c. &c. But immediately from the beginning of the fourth verse of the second chapter, where the second story begins, the style of expression is always the Lord God, and this style of expression is invariably used to the end of the chapter, and is repeated eleven times ; in the one it is always God, and never the' Lord God, in the other it is always the Lord God and never God. The first story contains thirty-four verses, and repeats the single word God thirty-five times. The second story contains twenty-two verses and repeats the compound word Lord-God eleven times ; this difference of style, so often repeated, and so uniformly continued, shows, that those two chapters, containing two different stories, are written by different persons ; it is the same in all the different editions of the Bible, in all the languages I have seen. Having thus shown, from the difference of style, that those two chapters divided, as they properly divide themselves, at the end of the third verse of the second chapter, are the work of two differ- ent persons, I come to show, from the contradictory matters they contain, that they cannot be the work of on e person, and are two different stories. It is impossible, unless the writer was a lunatic, without memory, that one and the same person could say, as is said in the 27th and 28th verses of the first chapter — " So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him ; male and female created he them : and God blessed them, and God said unto them, be fruitful and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowls of the air, and every living thing that moveth on the face of the earth." It is, I say, impossible that the same person who said this, could afterwards say, as is said in the second chapter, ver. 5, and there was not a man to till the ground ; and then proceed in the 7th verse to give another account of the making a man for the first time, and after- wards of the making a woman out of his rib. Again, one and the same person could not write, as is written in the 29th verse of the first chapter : " Behold I (God) have given you every herb bearing seed, which is on the face of the earth ; and every tree, in which is the fruit of a tree bearing seed, to you it shall be for meat," and afterwards sav, as is said in the 174 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. second chapter, that the Lord-God planted a tree in the midst of a garden, and forbad man to eat thereof. Again, one and the same person could not say, " Thus the heavens and the earth icere finished, and all the host of them, and on the seventh day God ended his work lohich he had made ;" and shortly after set the Creator to work again, to plant a garden, to make a man and a woman, &c. as is done in the second chapter. Here are evidently two different stories contradicting each other. — According to the first, the two sexes, the male and the female, were made at the same time. According to the second, they were made at different times : the man first, the woman after- wards. — According to the first story, they were to have dommion over all the earth. According to the second, their dominion was limited to a garden. How large a garden it could be, that one man and one woman could dress and keep in order, I leave to the prosecutor, the judge, the jury, and Mr. Erskine to determine. The story of the talking ■serpent, and its tete-a-tete with Eve ; the doleful adventure called the Fall of Man; and how he was turned out of this fine garden, and how the garden was afterwards locked up and guarded by a flaming sword, (if any one can tell what a flaming sword is,) belonging altogether to the second story. They have no connexion with the first story. According to the first there was no garden of Eden ; no forbidden tree : the scene was the whole earth, and the fruit of all the trees was allowed to be eaten. In giving this example of the strange state of the Bible, it can- not be said I have gone out of my way to seek it, for I have taken the beginning of the book ; nor can it be said I have made more of it, than it makes of itself. That there are two stories is as visible to the eye, when attended to, as that there are two chapters, and that they have been written by different persons, nobody knows by whom. If this then is the strange condition the beginning of the Bible is in, it leads, to a just suspicion, that the other parts are no better, and consequently it becomes every man's duty to examine the case. I have done it for myself, and am satisfied that the Bible is fabulous. Perhaps I shall be told in the cant-language of the day, as I have often been told by the Bishop of Llandaffand others of the great and laudable pains, that mauy pious and learned men have taken to explain the obscure, and reconcile the contradictory, or LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 175 as they say, the seemingly contradictory passages of the Bible. It is because the Bible needs such an undertaking, that is one of the first causes to suspect it is not the word of God : this single reflection, when carried home to the mind, is in itself a volume. What ! does not the Creator of the Universe, the Fountain of all Wisdom, the Origin of all Science, the Author of all know- ledge, the God of Order, and of Harmony, know how to write ? When we contemplate the vast economy of the creation ; when we behold the unerring regularity of the visible solar system, the perfection with which all its several parts revolve, and by corres ponding assemblage, form a whole ; — when we launch our eye into the boundless ocean of space, and see ourselves surrcxnded by innumerable worlds, not one of which varies from its appointed place — when we trace the power of the Creator, from a mite to an elephant — from an atom to an universe — can we suppose that the mind that could conceive such a design, and the power that executed it with incomparable perfection, cannot write without inconsistency ; or, that a book so written, can be the work of such a power 1 The writings of Thomas Paine, even of Thomas Paine, need no commentator to explain, expound, arrange, and re-arrange their several parts, to render them intelligible — he can relate a fact, or write an essay, without forgetting in one page what he has written in an other — certainly then, did the God of all perfec- tion condescend to write or dictate a book, that book would be as perfect as himself is perfect : the Bible is not so, and it is con fessedly not so, by the attempts to amend it. Perhaps I shall be told, that though I have produced one in- stance, I cannot produce another of equal force. One is sufficient to call in question the genuineness or authenticity of any book that pretends to be the word of God ; for such a book would, as before said, be as perfect as its author is perfect. I will, however, advance only four chapters further into the book of Genesis, and produce another example that is sufficient to invalidate the story to which it belongs. We have all heard of Noah's Flood ; and it is impossible to think of the whole human race, men, women, children, and infants (except one family,) deliberately drowning, without feeling a pain- ful sensation ; that heart must be a heart of flint that can contem- plate such a scene with tranquillity. There is nothing in the ancient mythology, nor in the religion of any people we know of 176 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. upon the globe, that records a sentence of their God, or of their Gods, so tremendously severe and merciless. If the story be not true, we blasphemously dishonor God by believing it, and still more so, in forcing, by laws and penalties, that belief upon others. I go now to show from the face of the story, that it carries the evidence of not being true. I know not if the judge, the jury, and Mr. Erskine, who tried and convicted Williams, ever read the Bible, or know any thing of its contents, and, therefore, I will state the case precisely. There was no such people as Jews or Israelites, in the time that Noah is said to have lived, and consequently there was no such law as that which is called the Jewish or Mosaic Law. It is according to the Bible, more than six hundred years from the time the flood is said to have happened, to the lime of Moses, and con- sequently the time the flood is said to have happened, was more than six hundred years prior to the law, called the law of Moses, even admitting Moses to have been the giver of that law, of which there is great cause to doubt. We have here two different epochs, or points of time ; that ol the flood, and that of the law of Moses ; the former more than six hundred years prior to the latter. But the maker of the story of the flood, whoever he was, has betrayed himself by blundering, for he has reversed the order of the times. He has told the story, as if the law of Moses was prior to the flood ; for he has made God to say to Noah, Genesis, chap. vii. ver. 2, " Of every clean beast, thou shalt take unto thee by sevens, male and his female, and of beasts that are not clean by two, the male and his female." This is the Mosaic law, and could only be said after that law was given, not before. There was no such things as beasts clean and unclean in the time of Noah — It is no where said they were created so. — They were only declared to be so, as meats, by the Mosaic law, and that to the Jews only, and there was no such people as Jews in the time of Noah. This is the blundering condition in which this strango story stands. When we reflect on a sentence so tremendously severe, as that of consigning the whole human race, eight persons excepted, to deliberate drowning ; a sentence, which represents the Creator in a more merciless character than any of those whom we call Pa- gans, ever represented the Creator to be, under the figure of any of their deities, we ought at least to suspend our belief of it, on a LETTHR TO MR. ERSKINE. 177 comparison of the beneficent character of the Creator, with the tremendous severity of the sentence ; but when we see the story told with such an evident contradiction of circumstances, we ought to set it down for nothing better than a Jewish fable, told by nobody knows whom, and nobody knows when. It is a relief to the genuine and sensible soul of man to find the story unfounded. It frees us from two painful sensations at once ; that of having hard thoughts of the Creator, on ac- count of the severity of the sentence ; and that of sympathising in the horrid tragedy of a drowning world. He who cannot feel the force of what I mean, is not, in my estimation of cha- racter, worthy the name of a human being. I have just said there is great cause to doubt, if the law, called the law of Moses, was given by Moses ; the books called the books of Moses, which contain, among other things, what is called the Mosaic law, are put in front of the Bible, in the man- ner of a constitution, with a history annexed to it. Had these books been written by Moses, they would undoubtedly have been the oldest books in the Bible, and entitled to be placed first, and the law and the history they contain, would be fre- quently referred to in the books that follow ; but this is not the case. From the time of Othniel, the first of the judges, (Judges, chap. iii. ver. 9,) to the end of the book of Judges, which con- tains a period of four hundred and ten years, this law, and those books, were not in practice, nor known among the Jews, nor are they so much as alluded to throughout the whole of that period. And if the reader will examine the 22d and 23d chap- ters of the 3d book of Kings, and 34th chapter 2d Chron. he will find that no such law, nor any such books, were known rn the time of the Jewish monarchy, and that the Jews were Pa- gans during the whole of that time, and of their judges. The first time the law, called the law of Moses, made its aj)- pearance, was in the time of Josiah, about a thousand years after Moses was dead ; it is then said to have been found by accident. The account of this finding, or pretended finding, is given 2d Chron. chap, xxxiv. ver. 14, 15, 16, 18: " Hilkrah the priest found the book of the law of the Lord, given by Moses, and Hilkiah answered and said to Shaphan the scribe, I have found the book of the law in the house of the Lord, and Hilkiah de- livered the book to Shaphan, and Shaphan earned the book ta 178 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. the king, and Shaphan told the king, (Josiah,) saying, Hilkiah the priest hath given me a book." In consequence of this finding, which much resembles that of poor Chatterton finding manuscript poems of Rowley, the monk, in the cathedral church at Bristol, or the late finding of manu- scripts of Shakspeare in an old chest, (two well known frauds,) Josiah abolished the Pagan religion of the Jews, massacred all the Pagan priests, though he himself had been a Pagan, as the reader will see in the 23d chap. 2d Kings, and thus established in blood, the law that is there called the law of Moses, and instituted a pass over in commemoration thereof. The 22d verse, speaking of this passover, says, " Surely there was not held such a passover from the days of the judges, that judged Israel, nor in all the days of the kings of Israel, nor the kings of Judah ;" and the 25th ver. in speaking of this priest-killing Josiah, says, '■'■Like nnto him, there was no king before him, that turned to the Lord with all his heart, and with all his soul, and with all his might, according to all the law of Moses ; neither after him arose there anylike him.'''' This verse, like the former one, is a general declaration against all the preceding kings without exception. It is also a declaration against all that reigned after him, of which there were four, the Avhole time of whose reigning makes but twenty-two years and six months, before the Jews were entirely broken up as a nation and their monarchy destroyed. It is, therefore, evident that the law, called the law of Moses, of which the Jews talk so much, was promul- gated and established only in the latter time of the Jewish monar- chy ; and it is very remarkable, that no sooner had they establish- ed it than they were a destroyed people, as if they were punished for acting an imposition and affixing the name of the Lord to it, and massacreing their former priests under the pretence of religion. The sum of the history of the Jews is this — they con- tinued to be a nation about a thousand years, they then established a law, which they called the law of the Lord given by Moses, and were destroyed. This is not opinion, but historical evidence. Levi the Jew, who has written an answer to the Age of Rea- son, gives a strange account of the law called the law of Moses. In speaking of the story of the sun and moon standing still, that the Israelites might cut the throats of all their enemies, and hang all their kings, as told in Joshua, chap, x., he says, " There is also another proof of the reality of this miracle, which is, the appeal LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 179 that the author of the book of Joshua makes to the book of Jasher, *' 75 not this written in the book of Jasher ? Hence," continues Levi, " It is manifest that the book commonly called the book of Jasher, existed, and was well known at the time the book of Joshua was written ; and pray, Sir," continues Levi, " what book do you think this was ? why, no other than the law of Moses /" Levi, like the Bishop of LlandafF, and many other guess-work commentators, either forgets or does not know, what there is in one part of the Bible, w^hen he is giving his opinion upon another part. I did not, however, expect to find so much ignorance in a Jew, with respect to the history of his nation, though I might not be surprised at it in a bishop. If Levi will look into the account given in the first chap. 2d book of Sam. of the Amalakite slaying Saul, and bringing the crown and bracelets to David, he will find the following recital, ver. 15, 17, 18 : " And David called one of the young men, and said, go near and fall upon him, (the Amala- kite,) and he smote him that he died : and David lamented with this lamentation over Saul and over Jonathan his son ; also he bade them teach the children the use of the bow ; — behold it is written in the book of Jasher ^ If the book of Jasher were what Levi calls it, the law of Moses, written by Moses, it is not pos- sible that any thing that David said or did could be written in that law, since Moses died more than five hundred years before David ■was born; and, on the other hand, admitting the book of Jasher to be the law called the law of Moses ; that law must have been written more than five hundred years after Moses was dead, or it could not relate any thing said or done by David. Levi may take which of these cases he pleases, for both are against him. I am not going in the course of this letter to write a commentary on the Bible. The two instances I have produced, and which are taken from the beginning of the Bible, show the necessity of examining it. It is a book that has been read more, and examined less, than any book that ever existed. Had it come to us an Arabic or Chinese book, and said to have been a sacred book by the people from whom it came, no apology would have been made for the confused and disorderly state it is in. The tales it relates of the Creator would have been censured, and our pity excited for those who believed them. We should have vindicated the good- ness of God against such a book, and preached up the disbelief of 180 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. it out of reverenc<5 to him. "Why then do we not act as honourably by the Creator in the one case as we would do in the other. As a Chinese book we would have examined it ; — ought we not then to examine it as a Jewish book ? The Chinese are a people who have all the appearance of far greater antiquity than the Jews, and in point of permanency, there is no comparison. They are also a people of mild manners and good morals, except where they have been corrupted by European commerce. Yet we take the word of a restless, bloody-minded people, as the Jews of Palestine were, when we would reject the same authority from a better people. We ought to see it is habit and prejudice that have pre- vented people from examining the Bible. Those of the church of England call it holy, because the Jews called it so, and because custom and certain acts of parhament call it so, and they read it from custom. Dissenters read it for the purpose of doctrinal controversy, and are very fertile in discoveries and inventions. But none of them read it for the pure purpose of information, and of rendermg justice to the Creator, by examining if the evidence it contains warrants the belief of its being what it is called. Instead of doing this, they take it blindfolded, and will have it to be the word of God whether it be so or not. For my own part, my belief in the perfection of the Deity will not permit me to believe, that a book so manifestly obscure, disorderly, and contradictory, can be his work. I can write a better book myself. This disbelief in me proceeds from my belief in the Creator. I cannot pin my faith upon the say so of Hilkiah, the priest, who said he found it, or any part of it, nor upon Shaphan the scribe, nor upon any priests, nor any scribe or man of the law of the present day. As to acts of parliament, there are some that say there are witches and wizards ; and the persons who made those acts, (it ■was in the time of James the First,) made also some acts which call the Bible the Holy Scriptures, or Word of God. But acts oi parliament decide nothing with respect to God ; and as these acts of parliament making were wrong with respect to Avitches and wizards, they may also be wrong with respect to the book in question.* It is, therefore, necessary that the book be examined ; * It is afflicting to humanity to reflect that, after the blood shed to estab lish the divinity of the Jewish scriptures, it should have become necessary to grant a new dispensation, which, through unbelief and conflicting opin ions respecting its true construction, has cost as great or greater sacrificos than the former. Catholics, when they had the ascendancy, burnt Protcs- LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 181 it is our duty to examine it ; and to suppress the right of examina- tion is sinful in any government, or in any judge or jury. The Bible makes God to say to Moses, Deut. chap. vii. ver. 2, " And tants, who, in turn, led Catholics to the stake, and both united in extermina- ting Dissenters. The Dissenters, when they had the power, pursued the same course. The diabolical act of Calvin, in the burning of Dr. Servetus, is an awful witness of this fact. Servetus suffered two hours in a slow fire before life was extinct. The Dissenters, who escaped from England, had scared}' seated themselves in the wilds of America, before they began to exterminate from the territory they had seized upon, all those who did not profess what they called the orthodox faith. Priests, Ctiiakers, and Adam- ites, were prohibited from entering the territory, on pain of death. By priests, they meant clergymen of the Roman Catholic, if not also of the Protestant or Episcopal persuasion. Their own priests they denominated ministers. These puritans also, particularly in the province of Massachu- setts-Bay, put many persons to death on the charge of witchcraft. There is no account, however, of their having burned any alive, as was done in Scotland, about the same period in which the executions took place in Mas- sachusetts-Bay. In England, Sir Matthew Hale, a judge eminent for ex- traordinary piety, condemned two women to death on the same charge. I doubt, however, if there be any acts of the parliament now in force for inflicting pains and penalties for'denying the scriptures to be the word of God, as our upright judges seem to rely at this time wholly upon what they call, the common law, to justify the horrid persecutions which are now car- ried on in England, to the disgrace of a country that boasts so much of its tolerant spirit. As the common law is derived from the customs of our ancestors, when in a rude and barbarous condition, it is not surprising that many of its in- junctions should be opposed to the ideas, which a society in a civilized and refined state, should deem compatible with justice and right. Accordingly we find that government has from time to time annulled some of its most prominent absurdities; such as the trials by ordeal, the wager of battle in case of appeal for murder, under a belief that a supernatural power would interfere to save the innocent and destroy the guilty in such a combat, &c. Yet much remains nearly as ridiculous, that requires a further and more liberal use of the pruning knife. " In the days of the Stuarts, [A. D. 1670, 22d year of Charles II. See the Republican, vol. 5, p. 22.] William Penn was indicted at Common Law for a riot and breach of the peace on having delivered his sentiments to a con- gregation of people in Grace-church-street: he told the judge and the jury that Common Law was an abuse, and no law at all ; and in spite of the threats, the fines and imprisonments inflicted on his jury, they acquitted him on this plea. William Penn found an honest jury." The introduction, however, of Christianity, as composing a part of this Common Law, (bad as much of it is,) is proved to be a fraud or misconcep- tion of the old Norman French; as I shall show by an extract of a letter from Thomas Jefferson to Major Cartwright, bearing date 5th June, 1824. For a more full developement of this subject, see Sampson's Anniversary Discourse, before the Historical Society of New- York. Editor. Extract from. Jefferson's Letter. " I am glad to find in your book [The English Constitution, produced and illustrated] a formal contradiction, at length, of the judiciary usurpation of legislative power; for such the judges have usurped in their repeated deci- sions, that Christianity is a part of the common lavK Theproof of the contrary, which you have adduced, is incontrovertible: to wit, that the common law existed while the Anglo-Saxons were yet Pagans; at a time when they had never yet heard the name of Christ pronounced, or Imew that such a character had ever existed. But it may amuse you to show when, and by what means, they stole this law in upon us. In acase of duarelmpedit, in the Year Book, 34 Henry VI. fo. 28, [Anno 1458,] a question was made how far the eccle- siastical law w a-s to be respected in a common law court. And Prisol, Chief 182 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. when the Lord thy God shall deliver them before thee, thou shalt smite them, and utterly destroy them, thou shalt make no cove- nant with them, nor show mercy unto them.'''' Not all the priests, nor scribes, nor tribunals in the world, nor all the authority of man, shall make me believe that God ever gave such a Rohesperi- an precept as that of showing no mercy; and consequently it is impossible that I, or any person who believes as reverentially of the Creator as I do, can believe such a book to be the word of God. Justice, gave his opinion in these words: — 'A tiel leis, que ils de saint eglise ont en ancien scripture, covient a nous a donner credence : cal ceo Commen Ley sur quels touts manners leis sont foddes. Et auxy, Sir, nous sumus obliges de conustre lour ley de saint eglise : et semblabiement lis sont obliges de conustre nostre ley — Et, Sir, si poit apperer or a nous que I'evesque adfait come un ordinary fera en tiel cas, adong nous devons ceo adjuger bon, ou autennenl nemy,' " &c. [" To such laws as they of holy church have in an- cient writing, it behoves us to give credence : for it is that common law upon which all kinds of law are founded ; and therefore. Sir, are we bound to know their law of holy church, and in like manner are they obliged to know our laws. And, Sir, if it should appear now to us, that the bishop had done what an ordinary ought to do in like case, then we should adjudge it good, and not otherwise."] — The canons of the church anciently were incorporated with the laws of the land, and of the same authority. See Dr. Henry's Hist. G. Britain. Editor. See S. C. Fitzh. abr. qu. imp. 89. Bro. abr. qu. imp. 12. Finch in his 1st Book, c._3, is the first afterwards who quotes the case, and mis-states it thus: " ' To siich laws of the church as have warrant in Holy Scripture, our law giveth cre- dence,' and cites Prisot ; mistranslating ' ancient Scripture' into ' holy Scrip- ture;' whereas Prisot palpably says, 'so such laws as those of holy" church have in ancient writing, it is proper for us to give credence ;' to wit — to their a7icient written laws. This was in 1613, a century and a half after the dictum of Prisot. Wingate, in 1658, erects this false translation into a maxim of the common law, copying the words of Finch, but citing Prisot. Wingate, max. 3, and Sheppard, title 'Religion,' in 1675, copies the same mistransla- tion, quoting the Y. B. Finch and Wingate. Hale expresses it in these words : ' Christianity is parcel of the law of England' — 1 Venlris 293. 3 Keb. 607, but quotes no authority. By these echoings and re-echoings from one to another, it had become so established in 1728, that in the ca.se of the King vs. Woolston, 2 Stra. 834, the court would not suffer it to be debated, whether to write against Christianity was punishable in the temporal court at com- mon law. " Wood, therefore, 409, ventures still to vary the phrase, and say, 'that all blasphemy and profaneness are offences by the common law;' and cites 2 Stra. — Then Blackstone, in 1763, iv. 59, repeats the words of Hale, that ' Christianity is part of the law of England,' citing Ventris and Strange. And finally. Lord Mansfield, with a little qualification, in Evan's case in 1767, says, that 'the essential principles of revealed religion are part of the common law' — thus ingulfing Bible, Testament, and all into the common law, without citing any authority. And thus we find this chain of authorities hanging, link by link, one upon another, and all ultimately on one and the same hook, and that a mistranslation of the words '■ ancient scripture,^ used by Prisot. Finch quotes Prisot ; Wingate does the same ; Sheppard quotes Prisot, Finch, and Wingate. Hale cites nobody. The court, on Woolston's case, cites Hale ; Wood cites Woolston's case ;' Blackstone quotes Woolston's case and Hale; and Lord Mansfield, like Hale, ventures it on his own authority. Here I might defy the best read lawyer to produce another scrip of author- ity for thi-i judiciary forgery ; and I might go on farther to sliow how some of the Anglo-Saxon priests interpolated into the text of Alfred's laws the 20th, 21st, 22d, and 23d chapters of Exodus, and the loth of the Acts of the Apostles, from the 23d to the 29th verses; but this would lead my pen, and your patience too far. What a conspiracy this, between church and state !' " LETTER TO MR. ERSKIXE. 183 There have been, and still are, those, who, whilst they profess io believe the Bible to be the word of God, affect to turn it into ridicule. Taking their profession and conduct together, they act blasphemously ; because they act as if God himself was not to be believed. The case is exceedingly different with respect to the Age of Reason. That book is written to show from the Bible it- self, that there is abundant matter to suspect it is not the word of God, and that we have been imposed upon, first by Jews, and af- terwards by priests and commentators. Not one of those who have attempted to write answers to the Age of Reaso)i, have taken the ground upon which only an answer could be written. The case in question is not upon any point of doctrine, but altogether upon a matter of fact. Is the book call- ed the Bible the word of God, or is it not? If it can be proved to be so, it ought to be believed as such ; if not, it ought not to be believed as such. This is the true state of the case. The Age of Reason produces evidence to show, and I have in this let- ter produced additional evidence, that it is not the word of God. Those who take the contrary side, should prove that it is. But this they have not done, nor attempted to do, and consequently they have done nothing to the purpose. The prosecutors of Williants have shrunk from the point, as the answerers have done. They have availed themselves of prejudice instead of proof. If a writing was produced in a court of judica- ture, said to be the writing of a certain person, and upon the rea- lity or non-reality of which, some matter at issue depended, the point to be proved would be, that such writing was the writing of such person. Or if the issue depended upon certain words, which some certain person was said to have spoken, the point to be pro- ved would be, that such words were spoken by such person ; and Mr. Erskine would contend the case upon this ground. A certain book is said to be the word of God. What is the proof that it is so 1 for upon this the whole depends ; and if it cannot be proved to be so, the prosecution fails for want of evidence. The prosecution against Williams charges him with publishing a book, entitled The Age of Reason, which it says, is an impious blasphemous pamphlet, tending to ridicule and bring into contempt the Holy Scriptures. Nothing is more easy than to find abusive words, and English prosecutions are famous for this species of vulgarity. The charge however, is sophistical ; for the charge. 184 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. as growing out of the pamphlet, should have stated, not as it now states, to ridicule and bring into contempt the Holy Scriptures, but to show, that the book called the Holy Scriptures are not the Holy Scriptures. It is one thing if I ridicule a work as being written by a certain person ; but it is quite a different thing if I write to prove that such work was not written by such person. In the first case, I attack the person through the work ; in the other case, I defend the honor of the person against the work. This is what the Age of Reason does, and consequently the charge in the indictment is sophistically stated. Every one will admit, that if the Bible be not the word of God, we err in believing it to be his word, and ought not to believe it. Certainly, then, the ground the prosecution should take, would be to prove that the Bible is in fact what it is called. But this the prosecution has not done, and cannot do. In all cases the prior fact must be proved, before the subse- quent facts can be admitted in evidence. In a prosecution for adultery, the fact of marriage, which is the prior fact, must be proved, before the facts to prove adultery can be received. If the fact ofmarriage cannot be proved, adultery cannot be proved; and if the prosecution cannot prove the Bible to be the word of God, the charge of blasphemy is visionary and groundless. In Turkey they might prove, if the case happened, that a certain book was bought of a certain bookseller, and that the said book was written against the Koran. In Spain and Por- tugal they might prove, that a certain book was bought of a certain bookseller, and that the said book was written against the infallibility of the Pope. Under the ancient mythology they might have proved, that a certain writing was bought of a cer- tain person, and that the said writing was written against the belief of a plurality of gods, and in the support of the belief of one God. Socrates was condemned for a work of this kind. All these are but subsequent facts, and amount to nothing, un- less the prior facts be proved. The prior fact, with respect to the first case, is. Is the Koran the word of God ? With respect to the second, Is the infallibility of the Pope a truth ? With respect to the third. Is the belief of a plurality of gods a true belief? and in like manner with respect to the present prosecution, Is thetjook called the Bible the word of God? If the present prosecution prove no more than could be proved in any or all of these cases, LETTER TO MR. ER3KINE. 1S5 it proves only as they do, or as an inquisition would prove ; and in this view of the case, the prosecutors ought at least to leave off reviling that infernal institution, the inquisition. The prosecu- tion, however, though it may injure the individual, may promote the cause of^truth ; because the manner in Avhich it has been con- ducted, appears a confession to the world, that there is no evi- dence to prove that the Bible is the word of God. On what au- thority then do we believe the many strange stories that the Bible tells of God This prosecution has been carried on through the medium of what is called a special jury, and the whole of a special jury is nominated by the master of the crown office. Mr. Erskine vaunts himself upon the bill he brought into parliament with respect to trials, for what the government party calls libels. But if in crown prosecutions, the master of the crown office is to continue to ap- point the whole special jury, which he does by nominating the for- ty-eight persons from which the solicitor of each party is to strike out twelve, Mr. Erskine's bill is only vapour and smoke. The root of the grievance lies in the manner of forming the jury, and to this Mr. Erskine's bill applies no remedy. When the trial of Williams came on, only eleven of the special jurymen appeared, and the trial was adjourned. In cases where the whole number do not appear, it is customary to make up the deficiency by taking jurymen from persons present in court. This, in the law term, is called a Tales. Why was not this done in this case 1 Reason will suggest, that they did not choose to depend on a man accidentally taken. When the trial re-commenced, the whole of the special jury appeared, and Williams was convicted ; it is folly to contend a cause where the whole jury is nominated by one of the parties. I will relate a recent case that explains a great deal with respect to special juries in crown prosecutions. On the trial of Lambert and others, printers and proprietors of the Morning Chronicle, for a libel, a special jury was struck, on the prayer of the Attorney-General, who used to be called Diabo- lus Regis, or King's Devil. Only seven or eight of the special jury appeared, and the Attor- ney General not praying a Tales, the trial stood over to a future day ; when it was to be brought on a second time, the Attorney- General prayed for a new special jury, but as this was not admis- sible, the original special jury was summoned. Only eight of thera 24 186 LETTER TO MR. EUSKINE. appeared, on which the Attorney-General said, " As I cannot, on a second trial, have a special jury, I will pray a Talesy Four persons were then taken from the persons present in court, and added to the eight special jurymen. The jury went out at two o'clock to consult on their verdict, and the judge (Kenyon) un- derstanding they were divided, and likely to be some time in mak- ing up their minds, retired from the bench, and went home. At seven, the jury went, attended by an officer of the court, to the Judge's house, and delivered a verdict, " Guilty of puhlishiiig, but with no malicious intention.'" The Judge said, " / cannot record this verdict : it is no verdict at all." The jury withdrew, and af- ter sitting in consultation till five in the morning, brought in a ver- dict, Not Guilty. Would this have been the case, had they been all special jurymen nominated by the Master of the Crown-office ? This is one of the cases that ought to open the eyes of people with respect to the manner of forming special juries. On the trial of Williams, the Judge preven.ted the counsel for the defendant proceeding in the defence. The prosecution had selected a number of passages from the Age of Reason, and in- serted them in the indictment. The defending counsel was se- lecting other passages to show, that the passages in the indictment were conclusions drawn from premises, and unfairly separated therefrom in the indictment. The Judge said, he did not know how to act ; meaning thereby whether to let the counsel proceed m the defence or not, and asked the jury if they wished to hear the passages read which the defending counsel had selected. The ju- ry said NO, and the defending counsel was in consequence silent. Mr. Erskine then, Falstaff like, having all the field to himself, and no enemy at hand, laid about him most heroically, and the jury found the defendant guilty- I know not if Mr. Erskine ran out of court and hallooed, huzza for the Bible and the trial by jury. Robespierre caused a decree to be passed during the trial of Brissot and others, that after a trial had lasted three days, (the whole of which time, in the case of Brissot, was taken up by the prosecuting party,) the judge should ask the jury (who were then a packed jury) if they were satisfied? If the jury said yes, the trial ended, and the jury proceeded to give their verdict, without hearing the defence of the accused party. It needs no depth of wisdom to make an application of this case. LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 187 I will now state a case to show that the trial of Williams is not a trial, according to Kenyon's own explanation of law. On a late trial in London (Selthens versus Hoossman) on a pol- icy of insurance, one of the jurymen, Mr. Dunnage, after hearing one side of the case, and without hearing the other side, got up and said, it ivas as legal a policy of insurance as ever was written. The Judge, who was the same as presided on the trial of Williams, re- plied, that it was a great misfortune when amj gentleman of the ju- ry makes up his mind on a cause before it was finished. Mr. Ers- kine, who in that cause was counsel for the defendant, (in this he was against the defendant,) cried out, it is worse than a misfortune^ it is a faidt. The Judge, in his address to the jury in summing up the evidence, expatiated upon, and explained the parts which the law assigned to the counsel on each side, to the witnesses, and to the Judge, and said, " When all this xvas done, and not until then, it tvas the business of the jury to declare ivhat the justice of the case loas ; and that it was extremely rash and imprudent in any man to draw a conclusion before all the premises were laid before them, upon xi'hich that conclusion tuas to be grounded." According then to Kenyon's own doctrine, the trial of Williams is an irregular tri- al, the verdict an irregular verdict, and as such is not recordable. As to special juries, they are but modern ; and were instituted for the purpose of determining cases at laiu between merchants ; because, as the method of keeping merchants' accounts differs from that of common tradesmen, and their business, by lying much in foreign bills of exchange, insurance, &c., is of a different descrip- tion to that of common tradesmen, it might happen that a common jury might not be competent to form ajudgment. The law that instituted special juries, makes it necessary that the jurors be merchants, or of the degree of squires. A special jury in London is generally composed of merchants; and in the country, of men called country squires, that is, fox-hunters, or men qualified to hunt foxes. The one may decide very well upon a case of pounds, shillings, and pence, or of the counting-house : and the other ot the jockey-club or the chase. But who would not laugh, that be- cause such men can decide such cases, they can also be jurors upon theology. Talk with some London merchants about scrip- ture, and they will understand you mean scrip, and tell you hovf much it is worth at the Stock Exchange. Ask them about theolo gy, and they will say they know of no such gentleman ipon tSS LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. Change. Tell some country squires of the sun and nr.oon stand- ing still, the one on the top of a hill and the other in a valley, and they will swear it is a lie of one's own making. Tell them thai God Almighty ordered a man to make a cake and bake it with a t — d and eat it, and they will say it is one of Dean Swift's black- guard stories. Tell them it is in the Bible, and they will lay a bowl of punch it is not, and leave it to the parson of the parish to decide. Ask them also about theology, and they will say, they know of no such an one on the turf. An appeal to such juries serves to bring the Bible into more ridicule than any thing the au- thor of the ^ge of Reason has written ; and the manner in which the trial has been conducted shows, that the prosecutor dares not come to the point, nor meet the defence of the defendant. But all other cases apart, on what ground of right, otherwise than on the riffht assumed by an inquisition, do such prosecutions stand ] Re- ligion is a private affair between every man and his Maker, and no tribunal or third party has a right to interfere between them. It is not properly a thing of this world ; it is only practised in this world ; but its object is in a future world ; and it is no otherwise an ob- ject of just laws, than for the purpose of protecting the equal rights of all, however various their beliefs may be. If one man choose to believe the book called the Bible to be the word of God, and another, from the convinced idea of the purity and perfection of God, com- pared with the contradictions the book contains — from the lascivi- ousness of some of its stoiies, like that of Lot getting drunk and de- bauching his two daughters, which is not spoken of as a crime, and for which the most absurd apologies are made — from the im- morality of some of its precepts, like that of showing no mercy — and from the total want of evidence on the case, thinks he ought not to believe it to be the word of God, each of them has an equal right ; and if the one has the right to give his reasons for believing it to be so, the other has an equal right to give his reasons for be- lieving the contrary. Any thing that goes beyond this rule is an inquisition. Mr. Erskine talks of his moral education ; Mr. Erskine is very little acquainted with theological subjects, if he does not know there is such a thing as a sincere and religious be- lief that the Bible is not the word of God. This is my belief; it is the belief of thousands far more learnetl than Mr. Erskine ; and it is a belief that is every day increasing. It is not infidelity, as Mr. Erskine prophanely and abusively calls it ; it is the direct ro LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 189 ▼erse of infidelity. It is a pure religious belief, founded on the idea of the perfection of the Creator. If the Bible be the word of God, it needs not the wretched aid of prosecutions to support it ; and you might with as much propriety make a law to protect the sunshine, as to protect the Bible, if the Bible, like the sun, be the work of God. We see that God takes good care of the Creation he nas made. He suffers no part of it to be extinguished : and he will take the same care of his word, if he ever gave one. But men ought to be reverentially careful and suspicious how they as- cribe books to him as his xvord, which from this confused condi- tion would dishonor a common scribbler, and against which there , is abundant evidence, and every cause to suspect imposition. Leave then the Bible to itself God will take care of it if he has any thing to do with it, as he takes care of the sun and the moon, which need not your laws for their better protection. As the two instances I have produced, in the beginning of this letter, from the Dook of Genesis, the one respecting the account called the Mo- saic account of the Creation, the other of the Flood, sufficiently show the necessity of examining the Bible, in order to ascertain what degree of evidence there is for receiving or rejecting it as a sacred book ; I shall not add more upon that subject ; but in order to show Mr. Erskine that there are religious establishments for public worship which make no profession of faith of the books called holy scriptures, nor admit of priests, I will conclude with an account of a society lately began in Paris, and which is very rapid- ly extending itself. The society takes the name of Theophilantropes, which would be rendered in English by the word Theophilanthropists, a word compounded of three Greek words, signifying God, Love, and Man. The explanation given to this word is, Lovers of God and Man, or Movers of God and Friends of Man, adorateurs de Dieu et amis des hommes. The society proposes to publish each year a volume, the first volume is just published, entitled RELIGIOUS YEAR OF THE THEOPHILANTHROPISTS; OR, ADORERS OF GOD, AND FRIENDS OF MAN, Being a collection of the discourses, lectures, hymns, and can- ticles, for all the religious and moral festivals of the Theophilan- thropists during the coiu-sr of the year, whetherin their public tem- 190 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. pies or in their private families, published by the author of the Manuel of the Theophilanthropists. The volume of this year, which is the first, contains 214 pages duodecimo. The following is the table of contents : — 1. Precise history of the Theophilanthropists. 2. Exercises common to all the festivals. 3. Hymn, No. I, God of whom the universe speaks. 4. Discourse upon the existence of God. 5. Ode II. The heavens instruct the earth. 6. Precepts of wisdom, extracted from the book of the Ado rateurs. 7. Canticle, No. III. God Creator, soul of nature. 8. Extracts from divers morahsts, upon the nature of God, and upon the physical proofs of his existence. 9. Canticle, No. lY. Let us bless at our waking the God who gives us light. 10. Moral thoughts extracted from the Bible. 11. Hymn, No. Y. Father of the universe. . 12. Contemplation of nature on the first days of the spring. 13. Ode, No YI. Lord in thy glory adorable. 14. Extracts from the moral thoughts of Confucius. 15. Canticle in praise of actions, and thanks for the works of the creation. 16. Continuation from the moral thoughts of Confucius. 17. Hymn, No. YII. All the universe is full of thy magnificence. 18. Extracts from an ancient sage of India upon the duties of families. 19. Upon the spring. 20. Moral thoughts of divers Chinese authors. 21. Canticle, No. YIII. Every thing celebrates the glory of the eternal. 22. Continuation of the moral thoughts of Chinese authors. 23. Invocation for the country. 24. Extracts from the moral thoughts of Theognis. 25. Invocation, Creator of man. 26. Ode, No. IX. Upon Death. 27. Extracts from the book of the Moral Universal, upon happi- ness. 28 Ode, No. X. Suprem " Author of Nature. LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 191 INTRODUCTION. ENTITLED PRECISE HISTORY OF THE THEOPHILANTHROPISTS. " Towards the month of Yendimiaire, of the year 5, (Sept. 1796,) there appeared at Paris, a small work, entitled, Manuel of the Theoantropophiles, since called, for the sake of easier pro- nunciation. Theophilantropes, (Theophilanthropists,) published byC . " The worship set forth in this Manuel, of which the origin is from the beginning of the world, was then professed by some fami- lies in the silence of domestic life. But no sooner was the Manuel published, than some persons, respectable for their know ledge and their manners, saw, in the formation of a society open to the public, an easy method of spreading moral religion, and of leading by degrees great numbers to the knowledge thereof, who appear to have forgotten it. This consideration ought of itself not to leave indifferent those persons who know that morality and religion, which is the most solid support thereof, are necessary to the maintenance of society, as well as to the happiness of the individual. These considerations determined the families of the Theophilanthropists to unite publicly for the exercise of their worship. " The first society of this kind opened in the month of Nivose, year 5, (Jan. 1797,) in the street Denftis, No. 34, corner of Lom- bard-street. The care of conducting this society was under- taken by five fathers of families. They adopted the Manuel of the Theophilanthropists. They agreed to hold their days of pub- lic worship on the days corresponding to Sundays, but without making this a hindrance to other societies to choose such other day as they thought more convenient. Soon after this, more so- cieties were opened, of which some celebrate on the decadi, (tenth day,) and others on the Sunday : it was also resolved that the com- mittee should meet one hour each week for the purpose of pre- paring or examining the discourses and lectures proposed for the next general assembly. That the general assemblies should be called Fetes (festivals) religious and moral. That those festivals should be conducted in principle and form, in a manner, as not to oe considered as the festivals of an exclusive worship ; and that 192 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. in recalling those who might not be attached to any particular wor- ship, those festivals might also be attended as moral exercises by disciples of every sect, and consequently avoid, by scrupulous care, every thing that might make the society appear under the name of a sect. The society adopts neither rites nor priesthood, and it will never loose sight of the resolution not to advance any thing as a society, inconvenient to any sect or sects, in any time or country, and under any government. " It will be seen, that it is so much the more easy for the society to keep within this circle, because, that the dogmas of the Theo- philanthropists are those upon which all the sects have agreed, that their moral is that upon which there has never been the least dissent ; and that the name they have taken, expresses the double end of all the sects, that of leading to the adoration of God and love of man. " The Theophilanthropists do not call themselves the disciples of such or such a man. They avail themselves of the wise pre- cepts that have been transmitted by writers of all countries and in all ages. The reader will find in the discourses, lectures, hymns, and canticles, which the Theophilanthropists have adopted for their religious and moral festivals, and which they present under the title of Annee Religieuse, extracts from moralists, ancient and modern, divested of maxims too severe, or too loosely conceived, or contrary to piety, whether towards God or towards Next follow the dogmas of the Theophilanthropists, or things they profess to believe. These are but two, and are thus expres- sed, les Theophilantrojyes croient a Vexistence de Dieu, et a IHm- morlalite de I'ame. The Theophilanthropists believe in the ex- istence of God, and the immortality of the soul. The Manuel of the Theophilanthropists, a small volume of sixty pages, duodecimo, is published separately, as is also their ca- techism, which is of the same size. The principles of the Theo- philanthropists are the same as those published in the first part of the Jge of Reason in 1793, and in the second part, in 1795. The Theophilanthropists, as a society, are silent upon all the thmgs they do not profess to believe, as the sacredness of the books called the Bible, &c. &c. They profess the immortality of the soul, but they are silent on the immortality of the body, or LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 193 that which the church calls the resurrection. The author of the Age of Reason gives reasons for every thing he disbelieves, as well as for those he believes ; and where this cannot be done with sa.fety, the government is a despotism, and the church an inquisition. It is more than three years since the first part of the Jlge of Reason was published, and more than a year and a half since the publication of the second part : the bishop of LlandafF undertook to write an answer to the second part ; and it was not until after it was known that the author of the Age of Reason would reply to the bishop, that the prosecution against the book was set on foot ; and which is said to be carried on by some clergy of the English church. If the bishop is one of them, and the object be to prevent an exposure of the numerous and gross errors he has committed in his work, (and which he wrote when report said that Thomas Paine was dead,) it is a confession that he feels the weak- ness of his cause, and finds himself unable to maintain it. In this case he has given me a triumph I did not seek, and Mr. Erskine, the herald of the prosecution, has proclaimed it. THOMAS PAINE. 25 DISCOURSE DELIVERED TO THE SOCIETY OF THEOPHILAN- THROPISTS AT PARIS. Religion has two principal enemies, Fanaticism and Infidelity or that which is called atheism. The first requires to he combated by reason and morality, the other by natural philoso- phy. The existence of a God is the first dogma of the Theophilan- thropists. It is upon this subject that I solicit your attention ; for though it has been often treated of, and that most sublimely, the subject is inexhaustible ; and there will always remain something to be said that has not been before advanced. I go, therefore, to open the subject, and to crave your attention to the end. The universe is the Bible of a true Theophilanthropist. It is there that he reads of God. It is there that the proofs of his ex- istence are to be sought and to be found. As to written or print- ed books, by whatever name they are called, they are the works of man's hands, and carry no evidence in themselves that God is the author of any of them. It must be in something that man could not make, that we must seek evidence for our belief, and that something is the universe ; the true Bible ; the inimitable work of God. Contemplating' the universe, the whole system of creation, m ' this point of light, we shall discover, that all that which is called natural philosophy is properly a divine study. It is the study of God through his works. It is the best study by which we can arrive at a knowledge of his existence, and the only one by which we can gain a glimpse of his perfection. Do we want to contemplate his power 1 l^e see it in the 196 DISCOURSE TO THE SOCIETY immensity of the Creation. Do we want to contemplate his wis- dom 1 We see it in the unchangeable order by which the incom- prehensible Whole is governed. Do we want to contemplate his munificence ? We see it in the abundance with which he fills the earth. Dc we want to contemplate his mercy ? We see it in his not withholding that abundance even from the unthankful. In fine, do we want to know what God is ? Search not written or printed books, but the scripture called the Creation. It has been the error of the schools to teach astronomy, and nil the other sciences, and subjects of natural philosophy, as accom- plishments only ; whereas they should be taught theologically, or with reference to the Being who is the author of them : for all the principles of science are of divine origin. Man cannot make, or invent, or contrive principles. He can only discover them ; and he ought to look through the discovery to the author. When we examine an extraordinary piece of machinery, an astonishing pile of architecture, a well executed statue, or an highly finished painting, where life and action are imitated, and habit only prevents our mistaking a surface of light and shade for cubical solidity, our ideas are naturally led to think of the exten- sive genius and talents of the artist. When we study the elements of geometry, we think of Euclid. When we speak of gravitation, we think of Newton. How then is it, that when we study the works of God in the Creation, we stop short, and do not think of God 1 It is from the error of the schools in having taught those subjects as accomplishments only, and thereby separated the study of them from the being who is the author of them.. The schools have made the study of theology to consist in the study of opinions in written or printed books ; whereas theology should be studied in the works or books of the Creation. The study of theology in books of opinions has often produced fana- ticism, rancour, and cruelty of temper ; and from hence have pro- ceeded the numerous persecutions, the fanatical quarrels, the re- ligious burnings and massacres, that have desolated Europe. But the study of theology in the works of the Creation produces a di- rect contrary effect. The mind becomes at once enlightened and serene ; a copy of the scene it beholds : information and adora tion go hand in hand ; and all the social faculties become en larged. OF THEOPHILANTHROPISTS. 197 The evil that has resulted from the error of the schools, in teach- mw natural philosophy as an accomplishment only, has been that of o-enerating in the pupils a species of atheism. Instead of looking through the works of the Creation to the Creator himself, they stop short, and employ the knowledge they acquire to create doubts of his existence. They labour with studied ingenuity to ascribe every thing they behold to innate properties of matter ; and jump over all the rest, by saying, that matter is eternal. Let us examine this subject ; it is worth examining ; for if we examine it through all its cases, the result will be, that the exist- ence of a superior cause, or that which man calls God, will be discoverable by philosophical principles. In the first place, admitting matter to have properties, as we see it has, the question still remains, how came matter by those pro- perties ? To this they will answer, that matter possessed those properties eternally. This is not solution, but assertion : and to deny it is equally impossible of proof as to assert it. It is then necessary to go further ; and, therefore, I say, if there exist a cir- cumstance that is not a property of matter, and without which the universe, or, to speak in a limited degree, the solar system, com posed of planets and a sun, could not exist a moment ; all the arguments of atheism, drawn from properties of matter, and applied to account for the universe, will be overthrown, and the existence of a superior cause, or that which man calls God, be- comes discoverable, as is before said, by natural philosophy. I go now to show that such a circumstance exists, and what it is : The universe is composed of matter, and, as a system, is sus- tained by motion. Motion is not a propertij of matter, and with- out this motion, the solar system could not exist. Were motion a property of matter, that undiscovered and undiscoverable thing called perpetual motion would establish itself. It is because motion is not a property of matter that perpetual motion is an impossibility in the hand of every being but that of the Creator of motion. "When the pretenders to atheism can produce perpetual motion, and not till then, they may expect to be credited. The natural state of matter, as to place, is a state of rest. Mo- tion, or change of place, is the effect of an external cause acting upon matter. As to that faculty of matter that is called gravita- tion, it is the influence which two or more bodies have reciprocally 198 DISCOURSE TO THE SOCIETY on each other to unite and to be at rest. Every thing which h&3 hitherto been discovered, with respect to the motion of the planets in the system, relates only to the laws by which motion acts, and not to the cause of motion. Gravitation, so far from being the cause of motion to the planets that compose the solar system, would be the destruction of the solar system, were revolutionary motion to cease ; for as the action of spinning upholds a top, the revolutionary motion upholds the planets in their orbits, and pre- vents them from gravitating and forming one mass with the sun. In one sense of the word, philosophy knows, and atheism says, that matter is in perpetual motion. But motion here refers to the state of matter, and that only on the surface of the earth. It is either decomposition, which is continually destroying the form of bodies of matter, or re-composition, which renews that matter in the same or another form, as the decomposition of animal or vege- table substances enter into the composition of other bodies. But the motion that upholds the solar system is of an entire different kind, and is not a property of matter. It operates also to an entire different effect. It operates to perpetual preservation, and to prevent any change in the state of the system. Giving then to matter all the properties which philosophy knows it has, or all that atheism ascribes to it, and can prove, and even supposing matter to be eternal, it will not account for the system of the universe, or of the solar system, because it will not account for motion, and it is motion that preserves it. "When, therefore, we discover a circumstance of such immense importance, that without it the universe could not exist, and for which neither mat- ter, nor any, nor all the properties of matter can account ; we are by necessity forced into the rational and comfortable behef of the existence of a cause superior to matter, and that cause man calls God. VNoi neee.y:*.'.}^ • ^i"'"^- -^-vguw^^^vti 9c(L may also remark, that in our own country, it was the custom in monasteries to visit every person's cell early in the morning, and knock on the door with a similar instrument, called the wakening mallet — doubtless no very pleasing intrusion on the slumbers of the Monks. But, the use of bells having been established, it was found that devils were terrified at the sound, and slunk in haste away ; in consequence of which it was thougl it necessary to bai'tize them in a solemn manner, which appears to LETTER TO CAMILLE JORDAN. 205 No man ought to make a living by religion. It is dishonest so to do. Religion is not an act that can be perfoimed by proxy. One person cannot act religion for another. Every person must perform it for himself: and all that a priest can do is to take from him, he wants nothing but his money, and then to riot in the spoil and laugh at his credulity. The only people, as a professional sect of Christians, who pro- vide for the poor of their society, are people known by the name of Quakers. Those men have no priests. They assemble quietly in their places of meeting, and do not disturb their neighbours with shows and noise of bells. Religion does not unite itself to show and noise. True religion is without either. "Where there is both there is no true religion. The first object for inquiry in all cases, more especially in mat- ters of religious concern, is TRUTH. We ought to inquire into the truth of whatever we are taught to believe, and it is certain that the books called the Scriptures stand, in this respect, in more than a doubtful predicament. They have been held in exis- tence, and in a sort of credit among the common class of people, by art, terror, and persecution. They have little or no credh among the enlightened part, but they have been made the means have been first done by Pope John XII. A. D. 068. A record of this practice still exists in the Tom of Lincohi, and the great Tom at Oxford, &c. Having thus laid the foundation of superstitious veneration, in the hearts of the common people, it cannot be a matter of surprise, that they were soon used at rejoicings, and high festivals in the church (for the purpose of driving away any evil spirit which might be in the neighborhood) as well as on tlie arrival of any great personage, on which occasion the usual fee was one penny. One other custom remains to be explained, viz. tolling bell on the occasion of any person's death, a custom which, in the manner now practised, is totally different from its original institution. It appears to liave been used as early as the 7th century, when bells were first generally used and to have been de- nominated the soul bell, (as it signified the departing of the soul,) as also, the passing bell. Thus Wheatly teUs us, " Our church, in imitation of the Saints of former ages, calls in the Minister and others who are at hand, to assist their brother in his last extremity ; in order to this, she directs a bell should be toll- ed when any one is passing out of this life." Durand also says — "When any one is dying, bells must be tolled, that the people may put up their prayers for him ; let this be done twice for a woman, and thrice for a man. If for a cler- gyman, as many times as he had orders ; and, at the conclusion, a peal on all the bells, to distinguish the quality of the person for whom the people are to put up their prayers." — From these passages, it appears evident that the bell was to be tolled before a person's decease rather than after, as at the present day ; and that the object was to obtain the prayers of all who heard it, for the repose of the soul of their departing neighbour. At first, when the tolling took place after the person's decease, it was deemed superstitious, and was partially disused, which was found materially to affect tlie revenue of the church. The priesthood having removed the objection, bells were again tolled, upon payment of the customary fees. English Paper. 206 LETTER TO CAMILLE J0RDA5T. of encumbering the world with a numerous priesthood, who have fattened on the labour of the people, and consumed the sustenance that ought to be applied to the widows and the poor. It is a want of feeling to talk of priests and bells whilst so many infants are perishing in the hospitals, and aged and infirm poor in the streets, from the want of necessaries. The abundance that France produces is sufficient for every want, if rightly applied ; but priests and bells, like articles of luxury, ought to be the least articles of consideration. We talk of religion. Let us talk of truth ; for that which is not truth, is not worthy the name of religion. We see different parts of the world overspread with different books, each of which, though contradictory to the other, is said by its partisans, to be of divine origin, and is made a rule of faith and practice. In countries under despotic governments, where in- quiry is always forbidden, the people are condemned to believe as they have been taught by their priests. This was for many centuries the case in France : but this link in the chain of slavery, is happily broken by the revolution ; and, that it may never be rivetted again, let us employ a part of the liberty we enjoy in scru- tinizing into the truth. Let us leave behind us some monument, that we have made the cause and honour of our Creator an object of our care. If we have been imposed upon by the terrors of government and the artifice of priests in matters of religion, let us do justice to our Creator by examining into the case. His name is too sacred to be affixed to any thing which is fabulous ; and it is our duty to inquire whether we believe, or encourage the people to believe, in fables or in facts. It would be a project worthy the situation we are in, to invite in inquiry of this kind. We have committees for various objects ; and, among others, a committee for bells. We have institutions, academies, and societies for various purposes ; but we have none for inquiring into historical truth in matters of religious concern. They show us certain books which they call the Holy Scrip- tures, the word of God, and other names of that kind ; but we ought to know what evidence there is for our believing them to be so, and at what time they originated and in what manner. We know that men could make booJ^s, and we know that artifice and superstition could give them a name ; could call them sacred. But we ought to be careful that the name of our Creator be not LETTER TO CAMILLE JORDAN. 207 abused. Let then all the evidence with respect to those books be made a subject of inquiry. If there be evidence to warrant our belief of them, let us encourage the propagation of it : but if not, let us be careful not to promote the cause of delusion and falsehood. I have already spoken of the Quakers — that they have no priests, no bells — and that they are remarkable for their care of the poor of their society. They are equally as remarkable for the educa- tion of their children. I am a descendant of a family of that pro- fession ; my father was a Quaker ; and I presume I may De admitted an evidence of what I assert. The seeds of good pnn- ciples, and the literary means of advancement in the world, are laid in early life. Instead, therefore, of consuming the substance of the nation upon priests, whose life at best is a life of idleness, let us think of providing for the education of those who have noi the means of doing it themselves. One good schoolmaster Is oi more use than a hundred priests. If we look back at what was the condition of France under the ancient regime, we cannot acquit the priests of corrupting the mo- rals of the nation. Their pretended celibacy led them to carry de- bauchery and domestic infidelity into every family where they could gain admission ; and their blasphemous pretensions to for- give sins, encouraged the commission of them. Why has rne Revolution of France been stained with crimes which the Revo- lution of the United States of America was not 1 Men are phvsi- cally the same in all countries ; it is education that makes them different. Accustom a people to believe that priests, or any other class of men can forgive sins, and you will have sins in abundance. I come now to speak more particularly to the object of your report. You claim a privilege incompatible with the constitution and with rights. The constitution protects equally, as it ought to do every profession of religion ; it gives no exclusive privilege to any. The churches are the common property of all the people ; they are national goods, and cannot be given exclusively to anv one profession, because the right does not exist of giving to any one that which appertains to all. It would be consistent with right that the churches be sold, and the money arising therelrom be invested as a fund for the education of children of poor parents of every profesfion, and, if more than sufficient for this purpose, 208 LETTER TO CAMLLIE JORDAN. that the surplus be appropriated to the support of the aged poor. After this, every profession can erect its own place of worship, if it choose — support its own priests, if it choose to have any — or perform its worship without priests, as the Quakers do. As to bells, they are a public nuisance. If one profession is to have bells, and another has the right to use the instruments of the same kind, or any other noisy instrument. Some may choose to meet at the sound of cannon, another at the beat of drum, another at the sound of trumpets, and so on, until the whole be- comes a scene of general confusion. But if we permit ourselves to think of the state of the sick, and the many sleepless nights and days they undergo, we shall feel the impropriety of increasing their distress by the noise of bells, or any other noisy instruments. Quiet and private domestic devotion neither offends nor incom- modes any body ; and the constitution has wisely guarded against the use of externals. Bells come under this description, and public processions still more so — Streets and highways are for the accommodation of persons following their several occupations, and no sectary has a right to incommode them — If any one has, every other has the same ; and the meeting of various and con- traditory processions would be tumultuous. Those who formed the constitution had wisely reflected upon these cases ; and, whilst they were careful to reserve the equal right of every one, they restrained every one from giving offence, or incommoding another. Men who, through a long and tumultuous scene, have lived in retirement as you have done, may think, when they arrive at power, that nothing is more easy than to put the world to rights in an instant ; they form to themselves gay ideas at the success of their projects ; but they forget to contemplate the difficulties that attend them, and the dangers with which they are pregnant. Alas ! nothing is so easy as to deceive one's self. Did all men think, as you think, or as you say, your plan would need no ad- vocate, because it would have no opposer ; but there are millions who think differently to you, and who are determined to be neither the dupes nor the slaves of error or design. It is your good fortune to arrive at power, when the sunshine of pros.oerity is breathing forth after a long and stormy night. The firmness of your colleagues, and of those you have succeeded — (he unabated energy of the Directory, and the unequalled bravery LETTER TO CAMILLE JORDAN. 209 of the armies of the Republic, have made the way smooth and ensy to you. If vou look back at the difficulties that existed wnen the constitution commenced, you cannot but be confounded with admiration at the difference between that time and now. At that moment the Directory were placed like the forlorn hope of an army, but you were in safe retirement. They occupied the post of honourable danger, and they have merited well of their country. You talk of justice and benevolence, but you begin at the wronff end. The defenders of your country, and the deplorable state of the poor, are objects of prior consideration to priests and bells and gaudy processions. You talk of peace, but your manner of talking of it embarrasses the Directory in making it, and serves to prevent it. Had you been an actor in all the scenes of government from its commence- ment, you would have been too well informed to have brought for- ward projects that operate to encourage the enemy. When you arrived at a share in the government, you found every thing tend- ing to a prosperous issue. A series of victories unequalled in the world, and in the obtaining of which you had no share, preceded your arrival. Every enemy but one was subdued ; and that one, (the Hanoverian government of England,) deprived of every hope, and a bankrupt in all its resources, was sueing for peace. In such a state of things, no new question that might tend to agi- tate and anarchize the interior, ought to have had place ; and the project you propose, tends directly to that end. Whilst France was a monarchy, and under the government of those things called kings and priests, England could always defeat her; but since France has RISEN TO BE A REPUBLIC, the Government of England crouches beneath her, so great is the difference between a government of kings and priests, and that which is founded on the system of representation. But, could the government of England find a way, under the sanction of your report, to inundate France with a flood of emigrant priests, she would find also the way to domineer as before ; she would re- trieve her shattered finances at your expence, and the ringing of bells would be the tocsin of your downfall. Did peace consist in nothing but the cessation of war, it would not be difficult ; but the terms are yet to be arranged ; and those terms will be better or worse, in proportion as France and her councils be united or divided. That the government of England 27 210 LETTER TO CAMILLE JORDAN. counts much upon your report, and upon others of a similar ten- dency, is what the writer of this letter, who knows that govern- ment well, has no doubt. You are but new on the theatre of go- vernment, and you ought to suspect yourself of misjudging ; the experience of those who have gone before you, should be of some service to you. But if, in consequence of such measures as you propose, you put it out of the power of the Directory to make a good peace, and to accept of terms you would afterwards reprobate, it is your- selves that must bear the censure. You conclude your report by the following address to your col- leagues : — " Let us hasten, representatives of the people ! to affix to these tutelary laws the seal of our unanimous approbation. All our fel- low-citizens will learn to cherish political liberty from the enjoy- ment of religious liberty : you will have broken the most power- ful arm of your enemies ; you will have surrounded this assembly with the most impregnant rampart — confidence, and the people's love. ! my colleagues ! how desirable is that popularity which is the offspring of good laws ! What a consolation it will be to us hereafter, when returned to our own fire-sides, to hear from the mouths of our fellow-citizens, these simple expressions — Bles- sings reivard you, men of peace ! you have restored to us our tern- pies — our ministers — the liberty of adoring the God of our fa- thers : you have recalled harmony to our families — morality to our hearts : you have made us adore the legislature and respect all its laws .'" Is it possible, citizen representative, that you can be serious in this address ? Were the lives of the priests under the ancient re- gime such as to justify any thing you say of them 1 Where not all France convinced of their immorality 1 Were they not considered as the patrons of debauchery and domestic infidelity, and not as the patrons of morals 1 What was their pretended celibacy but perpetual adultery \ What was their blasphemous pretentions to forgive sins, but an encouragement to the commission of them, and a love for their own ? Do you want to lead again into France all the vices of which they have been the patrons, and to over- spread the republic with English pensioners ! It is cheaper to cor- rupt than to conquer ; and the English government, unable to LETTER TO CAMILLK JORDAN. 211 conquer ; will stoop to corrupt. Arrogance and meanness, though in appearance opposite, are vices of the same heart. Instead of concluding in the manner you have done, you ought rather to have said, " ! my colleagues ! we are arrived at a glorious period — a period that promises more than we could have expected, and aH that we could have wished. Let us hasten to take into consider- ation the honours and rewards due to our brave defenders. Let us hasten to give encouragement to agriculture and manufactures, that commerce may reinstate itself, and our people have employ- ment. Let us review the condition of the suffering poor, and wipe irom our country the reproach of forgetting them. Let us devise means to establish schools of instruction, that we may banish the ignorance that the ancient regime of kings and priests had spread among the people. — Let us propagate morality, un- fettered by superstition — Let us cultivate justice and benevo- lence, that the God of our fathers may bless us. The helpless infant and the aged poor cry to us to remember them — Let not wretchedness be seen in our streets — Let France exhibit to the world the glorious example of expelling ignorance and misery together. " Let these, my virtuous colleagues, be the subject of our care, that, when we return among our fellow-citizens, they may say. Worthy representatives ! you have done well. You have done jus- tice and honour to our brave defenders. You have encouraged agriculture — cherished our decayed manufactures — given new life to commerce, and employment to our people. You have removed from our country the reproach of forgetting the poor — You have caused the cry of the orphan to cease — You have loiped the tear from the eye of the suffering mother — You have given comfort to the aged and infirm — You have penetrated into the gloomy recesses of wretchedness, and have banished it. Welcome among us, ye brave and virtuous representatives ! and may your example be followed by your successors /" THOMAS PAINE. Parisy 1797. AN EXAMINATION OF THE PASSAGES IN THE NEW TESTAMENT, aUOTED FROM THE OLD, AND CALLED PROPHECIES CONCERNING JESUS CHRIST. TO WHICH IS PREFIXED AN ESSAY ON DREAM, ALSO, CONTAINING THE CONTRADICTORY DOCTRINES BETWEEN MATTHEW AND MARK; ASS 117 PRIVATE THOUGHTS ON A FUTURE STATE. PREFACE. TC THE MINISTERS AND PREACHERS OF ALL DENOMINATIONS OF RELIGION. It is the duty of every man, as far as his ability extends, to de- iect and expose delusion and error. But nature has not given to every one a talent for the purpose ; and among those to whom Buch a talent is given, there is often a want of disposition or of courage to do it. The world, or more properly speaking, that small part of it called Christendom, or the Christian World, has been amused for more than a thousand years with accounts of Prophecies in the Old Testament, about the coming of the person called Jesus Christ, and thousands of sermons have been preached, and volumes writ- ten, to make man believe it. In the following treatise I have examined all the passages in the New Testament, quoted from the Old, and called prophecies concerning Jesus Christ, and I find no such thing as a prophecy of any such person, and I deny there are any. The passages all re- late to circumstances the Jewish nation was in at the time they were written or spoken, and not to any thing that was or was not to happen in the world several hundred years afterwards ; and I have shown what the circumstances were, to which the passages apply or refer. I have given chapter and verse for every thing I have said, and have not gone out of the books of the Old and New Testament for evidence that the passages are not prophecies of the person called Jesus Christ. 216 PREFACE The prejudice of unfounded belief, often degenerates into the prejudice of custom, and becomes, at last, rank hypocrisy. When men, from custom or fashion, or any worldly motive, profess or pretend to believe what they do not believe, nor can give any rea- son for believing, they unship the helm of their morahty, and being no longer honest to their own minds, they feel no moral difficulty in being unjust to others. It is from the influence of this vice, hypocrisy, that we see so many Church and Meeting-going pro- fessors and pretenders to religion, so full of trick and deceit in their dealings, and so loose in the performance of their engage- ments, that they are not to be trusted further than the laws of the country will bind them. Morality has no hold on their minds, no restraint on their actions. One set of preachers make salvation to consist in believing. They tell their congregations, that if they believe in Christ, their sins shall be forgiven. This, in the first place, is an encourage- ment to sin, in a similar manner as v.hen a prodigal young fellow is told his father will pay all his debts, he runs into debt the faster, and becomes the more extravagant : Daddy, says he, pays all, and on he goes. Just so in the other case, Christ pays all, and on goes the sinner. In the next place, the doctrine these men preach is not true. The New Testament rests itself for credulity and testimony on what are called prophecies in the Old Testament, of the person called Jesus Christ ; and if there are no such thing as prophecies of any such person in the Old Testament, the New Testament is a forgery of the councils of Nice and Laodocia, and tne faith founded thereon, delusion and falsehood.* Another set of preachers tell their congregations that God pre- destinated and selected from all eternity, a certain number to be saved, and a certain number to be damned eternally. If this were true, the day of Judgment is past: their preaching is in vain, and they had better work at some useful calling for their liveli- hood. This doctrine, also, like the former, hath a direct tendency to demoralize mankind. Can a bad man be reformed by telling him, * The councils of Nice and Laodocia were held about 350 years after the time Christ is said to have lived ; and the books that now compose the New Testament, were then vnted for by teas and nays, as we now vote a law. A great many that were offered had a majority of nays, and were rejected. This IS the way the New Testament came into being. PREFACE 217 that if he is one of those who was decreed to be damned before he was born, his reformation will do him no good ; and if he was de- creed to be saved, he will be saved whether he believes it or not ; for this is the result of the doctrine. Such preaching, and such preachers, do injury to the moral world. They had better be at the plough. As in my political works my motive and object have been to give man an elevated sense of his own character, and free him from the slavish and superstitious absurdity of monarchy and hereditary government, so in my publications on religious subjects my endeavours have been directed to bring man to a right use of tne reason that God has given him ; to impress on him the great principles of divine morality, justice, mercy, and a benevolent disposition to all men, and to all creatures, and to inspire in him a spirit of trust, confidence and consolation in his Creator, unshack- ted. by the fables of books pretending to be the vjord of God. THOMAS PAINE. AN ESSAY ON DREAMS. As a great deal is said in the New Testament about dreams, it is first necessary to explain the nature of dream, and to show by what operation of the mind a dream is produced during sleep. When this is understood we shall be the better enabled to judge whether any reliance can be placed upon them ; and, consequently, whether the several matters in the New Testament related of dreams deserve the credit which the writers of that book and priests and commentators ascribe to them. In order to understand the nature of dreams, or of that which passes in ideal vision during a state of sleep, it is first necessary to understand the composition and decomposition of the human mind. The three great faculties of the mind are imagination, judge- ment and MEMORY. Every action of the mind comes under one or the other of these faculties. In a state of wakefulness, as in the day-time, these three faculties arc all active ; but that is seldom the case in sleep, and never perfectly : and this is the cause that our dreams are not so regular and rational as our waking thoughts. The seat of that collection of powers or faculties, that consti- tute what is called the mind, is in the brain. There is not, and cannot be, any visible demonstration of this anatomically, but ac- cidents happening to living persons, show it to be so. An injury done to the brain by a fracture of the skull, will sometimes change a wise man into a childish idiot : a being without mind. But so careful has nature been of that sanctum sanctorum of man, the brain, that of all the external accidents to which humanity is sub- ject, this happens the most seldom. But we often see it happen- ing by long and habitual intemperance. 220 AN ESSAY ON DREAM. Whether those three faculties occupy distinct apartments of the brain, is known only to that Almighty power that formed and organized it. We can see the external effects of muscular motion in all the members of the body, though its prmwrn mobile, or first moving cause, is unknown to man. Our external motions are sometimes the effect of intention, and sometimes not. If we are sitting and intend to rise, or standing and intend to set, or to walk, the limbs obey that intention as if they heard the order given. But we make a thousand motions every day, and that as well waking as sleeping, that have no prior intention to direct them. Each member acts as if it had a will or mind of its own. Man governs the whole when he pleases to govern, but in the interims the sev- eral parts, like little suburbs, govern themselves without consulting the sovereign. But all these motions, whatever be the generating cause, are external and visible. But with respect to the brain, no ocular observation can be made upon it. All is mystery ; all is darkness in that womb of thought. Whether the brain is a mass of matter in continual rest ; whether it has a vibrating pulsative motion, or a heaving and falling mo- tion, like matter in fermentation ; whether different parts of the bram nave different motions according to the faculty that is em- ployed, be it the imagination, the judgment, or the memory, man knows nothing of it. He knows not the cause of his own wit. His own brain conceals it from him. Comparing invisible by visible things, as metaphysical can sometimes be compared to physical things, the operations of those distinct and several faculties have some resemblance to the me- chanism of a watch. The main spring which puts all in motioHf corresponds to the imagination : the pendulum or balance, which corrects and regulates that motion, corresponds to the judgment ; and the hand and dial, like the memory, record the operations. Now in proportion as these several faculties sleep, slumber, oi keep awake, during the continuance of a dream, in that proportion the dream will be reasonable or frantic, remembered or forgotten. If there is any faculty in mental man that never sleeps, it is that volatile thing the imagination : the case is different with the judg- ment and memory. The sedate and sober constitution of the judgment easily disposes it to rest ; and as to the memory, it •ecords in silence, and is active only when it is called upon. AN ESSAY ON DREAM. 22J That the judgment soon goes to sleep may be perceived by our sometimes beginning to dream before we are fully asleep our- selves. Someranuom thought runs in the mind, and we start, as it were, into recollection that we are dreaming between sleeping and waking. If the judgment sleeps whilst the imagination keeps awake, the dream will be a riotous assemblage of mis-shapen images and ran- ting ideas, and the more active the imagination is, the wilder the dream will be. The most inconsistent and the most impossible things will appear right ; because that faculty, whose province it is to keep order, is in a state ot absence. The master of the school is gone out, and the boys are in an uproar. If the memory sleeps, we shall have no other knowledge of the dream than that we have dreamt, without knowing what it was about. In this case it is sensation, rather than recollection, that acts. The dream has given us some sense of pain or trouble, and we feel it as a hurt, rather than remember it as a vision. If memory only slumbers, we shall have a faint remembrance of the dream, and after a few minutes it will sometimes happen that' the principal passages of the dream will occur to us more fully. The cause of this is, that the memory will sometimes con- tinue slumbering or sleeping after we are awake ourselves, and that so fully, that it may, and sometimes does happen, that we do not immediately recollect where we are, nor what we have been about, or have to do. But when the memory starts into wakeful- ness, it brings the knowledge of these things back upon us, like a flood of light, and sometimes the dream with it. But the most curious circumstance of the mind in a state of dream, is the power it has to become the agent of every person, character and thing, of which it dreams. It carries on conversa- tion with several, asks questions, hears answers, gives and receives information, and it acts all these parts itself. But however various and eccentric the imagination may be in the creation of images and ideas, it cannot supply the place of memo- ry, with respect to things that are forgotten when we are awake. For example, if we have forgotten the name of a person, and dream of seeing him and asking him his name, he cannot tell it ; for it is ourselves asking ourselves the question. But though the imagination cannot supply the place of real memory, it has the wild faculty of counterfeiting memory. It 222 AN ESSAY ON DREAM dreams of persons it never knew, and talks with them as if it re- membered them as old acquaintances. It relates circumstances thatnevet happened, and tells them as if they had happened. It goes to places that never existed, and knows where all the streets and houses are, as if it had been there before. The scenes it cre- ates often appear as scenes remembered. It will sometimes act a dream within a dream, and, in the delusion of dreaming, tell a dream it never dreamed, and tell it as if it was from memory. It may also be remarked, that the imagination in a dream, has no idea of time, as time. It counts only by circumstances ; and if a suc- cession of circumstances pass in a dream that would require a great length of time to accomplish them, it will appear to the dreamer that a length of time equal thereto has passed also. As this is the state of the mind in dream, it may rationally be said that every person is mad once in twenty-four hours, for were he to act in the day as he dreams in the night, he would be con- fined for a lunatic. In a state of wakefulness, those three facul- ties being all alive, and acting in union, constitute the rational man. In dreams it is otherwise, and, therefore, that state which is called insanity, appears to be no other than a disunion of those faculties, and a cessation of the judgment during wakefulness, that we so often experience during sleep ; and idiocity, into which some persons have fallen, is that cessation of all the faculties of which we can be sensible when we happen to wake before our memory. In this view of the mind, how absurd is it to place reliance upon dreams, and how much more absurd to make them a foundation for religion ; yet the belief that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, begotten by the Holy Ghost, a being never heard of before, stands on the story of an old man's dream. " Jlnd behold the angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream, saying; Joseph, thou son oj David, fear not thou to take unto thee J^Iary thy wife, for that hich is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost.^' — Matt. chap. i. verse 20. After this we have the childish stories of three or four other dreams 1 about Joseph going into Egypt ; about his coming back again ; about this, and about that, and this story of dreams has thrown Europe into a dream for more than a thousand years. All the efforts that nature, reason, and conscience have made to awak- en man from it, have been ascribed by priestcraft and superstition AN ESSAY ON DREAM. 223 to the workings of the devil, and had it not been for the AmericaQ revolution, which, by establishing the imiversol right of conscience^ first opened the way to free discussion, and for the French revo- lution which followed, this religion of dreams had continued to be preached, and that after it had ceased to be believed. Those who preached it and did not believe it, still believed the delusion neces- sary. They were not bold enough to be honest, nor honest enough to be bold. [Every new religion, like a new play, requires a new apparatus of dresses and machinery, to fit the new characters it creates. The story of Christ in the New Testament brings a new being upon the stage, which it calls the Holy Ghost ; and the story of Abraham, the father of the Jews, in the Old Testament, gives ex- istence to a new order of beings it calls Angels. — There was no Holy Ghost before the time of Christ, nor Angels before the time of Abraham. — We hear nothing of these winged gentlemen, till more than two thousand years, according to the Bible chronology, from the time they say the heavens, the earth, and all therein were ma3e : — After this, they hop about as thick as birds in a grove : — The first we hear of, pays his addresses to Hagar in the wilder- ness ; then three of them visit Sarah ; another wrestles a fall with Jacob ; and these birds of passage having found their way to earth and back, are continually coming and going. They eat and drink, and up again to heaven. — What they do with the food they carry away, the Bible does not tell us. — Perhaps they do as the birds do. * * * One would think that a system loaded with such gross and vul- gar absurdities as scripture religion is, could never have obtained credit ; yet we have seen what priestcraft and fanaticism could do, and credulity believe. From angels in the old Testament we get to prophets, to witches, to seers of visions, and dreamers of dreams, and some- times we are told, as in 2 Sam. chap. ix. ver. 15, that God Avhis- pers in the ear — At other times we are not told how the impulse was given, or whether sleeping or waking — In 2 Sam. chap. xxiv. ver. 1, it is said, " ^nd again the anger of the Lord itxis kindled against Israel, and he moved David agaiiist them to say go number Israel and Jiidah." — And in 1 Chro. chap. xxi. ver. 1, when the same story is again related, it is said, " and Satan stood up against Israel, and moved David to number Isi'aeV 224 AN ESSAY ON DREAM. Whether this was done sleeping or waking, we are not told, but it seems that David, whom they call " a man after God's own heart," did not know by what spirit he was moved ; and as to the men called inspired penmen, they agree so well about the matter, that in one book they say that it was God, and in the other that it was the Devil. The idea that writers of the Old Testament had of a God was boisterous, contemptible, and vulgar. — They make him the Mars of the Jews, the fighting God of Israel, the conjuring God of their Priests and Prophets. — They tell as many fables of him as the Greeks told of Hercules. * * * * They make their God to say exultingly, " / loill get me honour upon Pharoah and upon his Host, tipon his Chariots and upon his Horsemen." — And that he may keep his word, they make him set a trap in the Red Sea, in the dead of the night, for Pharoah, his host, and his horses, and drown them as a rat-catcher would do so many rats — Great honour indeed ! the story of Jack the giant- killer is better told ! They pit him against the Egyptian magicians to conjure with him, the three first essays are a dead match — Each party turns his rod into a serpent, the rivers into blood, and creates frogs ; but upon the fourth, the God of the Israelites obtains the laurel, he covers them all over with lice ! — The Egyptian magicians can- not do the same, and this lousy triumph proclaims the victory ! They make their God to rain fire and brimstone upon Sodom and Gomorrah, and belch fire and smoke upon mount Sinai, as if he was the Pluto of the lower regions. They make him salt up Lot's wife like pickled pork ; they make him pass like Shak speare's Queen Mab into the brain of their priests, prophets, and prophetesses, and tickle them into dreams, and after making him play all kind of tricks they confound him with Satan, and leave us at a loss to know what God they meant ! This is the descriptive God of the Old Testament ; and as to the New, though the authors of it have varied the scene, they have continued the vulgarity. Is man ever to be the dupe of priestcraft, the slave of supersti tion 1 Is he never to have just ideas of his Creator ? Is it bettei not to belief there is a God, than to believe of him falsely. When we behold the mighty universe that surrounds us, and dart out con- templation into the eternity of space, filled with innumerable orbs AN F.SSAT ON DREAM. 225 revolving in eternal harmony, how paltry must the talcs of the Old and New Testaments, prophanely called the word of God, appear to thoughtful man ! The stupendous wisdom and unerring order, that reign and govern throughout this wondrous whole, and call us to reflection, pz«/ to shame the Bible ! — The God of eterni- ty and of all that is real, is not the God of passing dreams, and shadows of man's imagination ! The God of truth is not the God of fable; the belief of a God begotten and a God crucified, is a God blasphemed It is making a profane use of reason.]* 1 shall conclude this Essay on Dream with the two first verses of the 34th chapter of Ecclesiasticus, one of the books of the Apiocrypha. " The hopes of a man void of understanding are vain and false; and dreams lift tip fools — Whoso regardeth dreams is dke hir,% that catcheth at a shadoiv, and foUoiveth after the loind.^' I now proceed to an examination of the passages in the Bible, called prophecies of the coming of Christ, and to show there are no prophecies of any such person. That the passages clandes- tinely styled prophecies are not prophecies, and that they refer to circumstances the Jewish nation was in at the time they were written or spoken, and not to any distance of future time or person. * Mr. Paine must have been in an ill humour when he wrote the passage inclosed m crotchets, commencing at page 223: and probably on reviewing it, and discovering exceptionable clauses, was induced to reject the whole, as it does not appear in the edition published by jiimsclf. But having obtained the original in the hand writing of Mi-. P. and deeming original in the hand writing of Mr. P. and deeming some of the reinarks wor- thy of beii exception thy of being preserved, I have thou?';'i ,"'roper to restore the passage, witli the , of the objectional parts. — -iSi/i i on / AN EXAMINATION OF THE PASSAGES IN THE NEW TESTAMENT, Q170TED FROM THE OLD, AND CALLED PROPHECIES OF THE COMING OP JESUS CHRIST. [This work was first published by Mr. Paine, at New- York, in 1S07, and was the last of his writings edited by himself. It is evidently extracted from his answer to the bishop of LlandafF, or from his third part of the Age of Reason, both of which it appears by his will, he left in manuscript. The term, " Tlie Bishojo,''^ occurs in this examination six times without designating what bishop is meant. Of all the replies to his second part of the Age of Reason, that of bishop Watson was the only one to which he paid particular attention ; and he is, no doubt, the person nere alluded to. Bishop Watson's apology for the Bible had been published some years before Mr. P. left France, and the latter composed his answer to it, and also his third part of the Age of Reason, while in that country. When Mr. Paine arrived in America, and found that liberal opinions on religion were in disrepute, through the influence of hypocrisy and superstition, he declined publishing the entire of the works which he had prepared ; observing that " An author might lose the credit he had acquired by writing too much." He how- ever gave to the public the examination before us, in a pamphlet form. But the apathy which appeared to prevail at that time in regard to religious inquiry, fully determined him to discontinue the publication of his theological writings. In this case, taking only a portion of one of the works before mentioned, he chose a title adapted to the particular part selected.] 223 EXAMINATION OF The passages called Prophecies of, or concerning, Jesus Christ, in the Old Testament, may be classed under the two followmg heads : — First those referred to in tli-. X«ir books of the New Testa- ment, called the four Evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. •Secondly, those which translators and commentators have, of their own imagination, erected into prophecies, and dubbed with that title at the head of the several chapters of the Old Testament. Of these it is scarcely worth while to waste time, ink, and paper upon ; I shall, therefore, confine myself chiefly to those refeiTcd to in the aforesaid four books of the New Testament. If I show that these are not prophecies of the person called Jesus Christ, nor have reference to any such person, it will be perfectly need- less to combat those which translators, or the Church, have invented, and for which they had no other authority than their own imagination. I begin with the book called the Gospel according to St. Matthew. In the first chap. ver. 18, it is said, " J^'oiv the hirth of Jesus Christ- was in this wise ; when his mother JSIa'ry ivas espoused to Joseph, before they came together she was found with child BY THE holy GHOST." — This is going a little too fast ; because to make this verse agree with the next it should have said no more than that she icas found xt'ith child ; for the next verse says, " Then Joseph her husband being a just man, and not willing to make her a public example, xvas minded to put her away privily." — Consequently Joseph had found out no more than that she was ■with child, and he knew it was not by himself. V. 20. " Jlnd while he thought of these things, (that is whether he should put her away privily, or make a public example of her,) behold the Angel of the Lord ajjpeared to him in a dream (that is, Joseph dreamed that an angel appeared unto him) saying, Joseph, thou son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife, for that ivhich is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost. And she shall bring forth a so7i and call his name Jesus ; for he shall save his people from their sins." Now, without entering into any discussion upon the merits or demerits of the account here given, it is proper to observe, that it has no higher authority than that of a dream ; for it is THE PROPHECIES 229 impossible for a man to behold any thing in a dream, but that which he dreams of. I ask not, therefore, whether Joseph (if there was such a man) had such a dream or not ; because admit- ting he had, it proves nothing. So wonderful and rational is the faculty of the mind in dreams, that it acts the part of all the cha- racters its imagination creates, and what it thinks it hears from any of them, is no other than what the roving rapidity of its own miagination invents. It is, therefore, nothing to me what Joseph dreamed of; whether of the fidelity or infidelity of his wife. — I pay no regard to my own dreams, and I should be weak indeed to put faith in the dreams of another. The verses that follow those I have quoted, are the words of the writer of the book of Matthew. " JYow, (says he,) all this (that is, all this dreaming and this pregnancy) teas done that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the Prophet^ saying, " Behold a virgin shall be xcith child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, ivhich being in- tcrpreted, is, God with hs." This passage is in Isaiah, chap. vii. ver. 14, and the writer of the book of Matthew endeavours to make his readers believe that this passage is a prophecy of the person called Jesus Christ. It IS no such thing — and I go to show it is not. But it is first ne- cessary that I explain the occasion of these words being spoken by Isaiah ; the reader will then easily perceive, that so far from their being a prophecy of Jesus Christ, they have not the least reference to such a person, or any thing that could happen in the time that Christ is said to have lived — which was about seven hundred years after the time of Isaiah. The case is this ; On the death of Solomon the Jewish nation split into two mon- archies : one called the kingdom of Judah, the capital of which was Jerusalem : the other the kingdom of Israel, the capital of which was Samaria. The kingdom of Judah followed the Une of David, and the kingdom of Israel that of Saul ; and these two rival monarchies frequently carried on fierce wars against each other. At the time Ahaz was king of Judah, which was in the time of Isaiah, Pekah was king of Israel ; and Pekah joined himself to Rezin, king of Syria, to make war against Ahaz, king of Judah •■ and these two kin^s marched a confederated ajid powerful army 230 jSxamination op against Jerusalem. Ahaz and his people became alarmed at the danger, and " their hearts ivere moved as the trees of the loood are moved with the windy Isaiah, chap. vii. ver. 3. In this perilous situation of things, Isaiah addressed himself to Ahaz, and assures him, in the name of the Lord, (the cant phrase of all the prophets) that these two kings should not succeed against him ; and, to assure him that this should be the case, (the case was however directly contrary*) tells Ahaz to ask a sign of the Lord. This Ahaz declined doing, giving as a reason, that he would not tempt the Lord ; upon which Isaiah who pretends to be sent from God, says, ver. 14, " Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign, behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a S071 — Butter and honey shall he eat, that he may know to refuse the evil and choose the good — For before the child shall know to refuse the evil and choose the good, the land which thou abhorrest shall be forsaken of both her kings" — meaning the king of Israel and the king of Syria, who were marching against him. Here then is the sign, which was to be the birth of a child, and that child a son ; and here also is the time limited for the accom- plishment of the sign, namely, before the child should know to re- fuse the evil and choose the good.' The thing, therefore, to be a sign of success to Ahaz, must be something that would take place before the event of the battle then pending between him and the two kings could be known. A thing to be a sign must precede the thing signified. The sign of rain must be before the rain. It would have been mockery and insulting nonsense for Isaiah to have assured Ahaz as a sign, that these two kings should not prevail against him : that a child should be born seven hundred years after he was dead ; and that before the child so born should know to refuse the evil and choose the good, he, Ahaz, should be delivered from the danger he was then immediately threatened with. * Chron. cliap. xxviii. ver. 1st. Mas was twenty years old when he began to reign, and he reigned sixteen years in Jerusalem, but he did not that which was right in the sight of the Lord. — ver. 5. Wherefore the Lord his God delivered him into the hand of the king of Syria, and they smote him, and carried aicay a great midtitude of them captive and brought them to Damascus ; and he was also delivered into the hand of the king of Israel, loho smote him with a great slaughter. Ver. 6. .Mnd Pekah {king of Israel) slew in Jiidah an hundred and twenty thousand in one day. — ver. 8. ^nd the children of Israel carried aivay captive of their brethren tioo hundred thousand loomen, sons, and daughters. THE PROPHECIES. 231 But the case is, that the child of which Isaiah speaks was his oxen child, with which his wife or his mistress was then pregnant ; for he says in the next chapter, v. 2, " And I took unto me faithful xcitnesses to record, Uriah the priest, and Zechariah the son of Jeberechiah ; and Iivent unto the prophetess, and she conceived and bear a son ;" and he says, at ver. 18 of the same chapter, " Be- hold I and the children whom the Lord hath given me are for signs and for U'onders in Israel.^' It may not be improper here to observe, that the word trans- lated a virgin in Isaiah, does not signify a virgin in Hebrew, but merely a young tvoman. The tense also is falsified in the trans- lation. Levi gives the Hebrew text of the 14th ver. of the 7th chap, of Isaiah, and the translation in English with it — " Behold a young icoman is xvith child and beareth a son.'''' The expres- sion, says he, is m the present tense. This translation agrees with the other circumstances related of the birth of this child, which was to be a sign to Ahaz. But as the true translation could not have been imposed upon the world as a prophecy of a child to be born seven hundred years afterwards, the Christian translators have falsified the original : and instead of making Isaiah to say, behold a young woman is with child and beareth a son — they make him to say, behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a son. It is, however, only necessary for a person to read the 7th and 8th chap- ters of Isaiah, and he will be convinced that the passage in ques- tion is no prophecy of the person called Jesus Christ. I pass on to the second passage quoted from the Old Testament by the New, as a prophecy of Jesus Christ. Matthew, chap. ii. ver. 1. " Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judah, in* the days of Herod the king, behold there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem — saying, where is he that is born king of the Jews 1 for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him. "When Herod, the king, heard these things, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him — and when he had gathered all the chief priests and scribes of the people together, he demanded of them where Christ should be born — and they said unto him in Bethlehem, in the land of Ju- dea : for thus it is written by the prophet — and thou Bethlehem^ in the land ofJudea, art not the least among the Princes of Judea for out of thee shall come a Governor that shall rule my people Israel." This passage is in Micah, chap. 5. ver. 2. 232 EXAMINATION OF 1 pass over the absurdity of seeing and following a star in the day-time, as a man would a Will ivith the imsp, or a candle and lantern at night ; and also that of seeing it in the east, when them- selves came from the east ; for could such a thing be seen at all to serve them for a guide, it must be in the west to them. I con- fine myself solely to the passage called a prophecy of Jesus Christ. The book of Micah, in the passage above quoted, chap. v. ver. 2, is speaking of some person without mentioning his name from whom some great achievements were expected ; but the descrip- tion he gives of this person at the 5th verse, proves evidently that it is not Jesus Christ, for he says at the 5th ver. " and this man shall be the peace when the Assyrian shall come i«to our land, and when he shall tread in our palaces, then shall we raise up against him (that is, against the Assyrian) seven shepherds and eight principal men — v. 6. And they shall waste the land of Assyria with the sword, and the land of Nimrod on the entrance thereof; thus shall He (the person spoken of at the head of the second verse) deliver us from the Assyrian when he cometh into our land, and when he treadeth within our borders." This is so evidently descriptive of a military chief, that it can- not be applied to Christ without outraging the character they pic- tend to give us of him. Besides which, the circumstances of the times here spoken of, and those of the times in which Christ is said to have lived, are in contradiction to each other. It was the Romans, and not the Assyrians, that had conquered and tvere in the land of Judea, and trod in ihbir palaces when Christ was born, and when he died, and so far from his driving them out, it was they who signed the warrant for his execution, and he suffered under it. Having thus shown that this is no prophecy of Jesus Christ. I pass on to the third passage quoted from the Old Testament by the New, as a prophecy of him. This, like the first I have spoken of, is introduced by a dream. Joseph dreameth another dream, and dreameth that he seeth another angel. The account begins at the 13th v. of 2d chap, ot Matthew. " The angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream, say- ing. Arise and take the young child and his mother and flee into Egypt, and be thou there vutil I bring thee word : For Herod will THE PROPHECIES. 233 seek the life of the young child to destroy him. TMien he arose he took the young child and his mother by night and departed into Egypt — and was there until the death of Ilerod, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet, saying, Out of Egypt I have called my son." This passage is in the book of Ilosea, chap. xi. ver. 1. The words are, " When Israel was a child then I loved him and called my son out of Egypt — As they called them, sf» they went from them, they sacrificed unto Baalam and burnt incense to graven images." This passage falsely called a prophecy of Christ, refers to the children of Israel coming out of Egypt in the time of Pharoah, and to the idolatory they committed afterwards. To make it apply to Jesus Christ, he must then be the person who sacrificed unto Baalam ami burnt incense to graven images, for the person called out of Egypt by the collective name, Israel, and the per- sons committing this idolatory, are the same persons, or the descendants from them. This, then, can be no prophecy of Jesus Christ, unless they are willing to make an idolater of him. I pass on to the fourth passage, called, a prophecy by the writer of the book of Matthew. This is introduced by a story, told by nobody but himself, and scarcely believed by any body, of the* slaughter of all the children under two years old, by the command of Herod. A thing which it is not probable should be done by Herod, as he only held an office under the Roman government, to which appeals could always be had, as we see in the case of Paul. Matthew, however, having made or told his story, says, chap. ii. V. 17. — " Then was fulfilled that which was spoken by Jere- miah, the prophet, saying, — In Ramah ivas there a voice heard, lamentation, weeping and great mourning ; Rachael lueeping fo'^ her children, and loould not he comforted because they were not." This passage is in Jeremiah, chap. xxxi. ver. 15, and this verse when separated from the verses before and after it, and which ex- plains its application, might, with equal propriety, be applied to every case of wars, sieges, and other violences, such as the Christians themselves have often done to the Jews, where mo- thers have lamented the loss of their children. There is nothing in the verse, taken singly, that designates or points out any partieu lar application of it, otherwise tha« it points to some circum- stances which, at the time of writing it, had already happeuedi 30 234 EXAMINATION OF and not to a thing yet to happen, for the verse is in the preter or past tense. I go to explain the case and show the apphcaticn of the verse. Jeremiah lived in the time that Nebuchadnezzar besieged, took, plundered, and destroyed Jerusalem, and led the Jews captive to Babylon. He carried his" violence against the Jews to every ex- treme. He slew the sons of king Zedekiah before his face, he then put out the eyes of Zedekiah, and kept him in prison till the day of his death. It is of this time of sorrow and suffering to the Jews that Jere- miah is speaking. Their temple was destroyed, their land deso- lated, their nation and government entirely broken up, and them- selves, men, women and children, carried into captivity. They had too many sorrows of their own, immediately before their eyes, to permit them, or any of their chiefs, to be employing themselves on things that might, or might not, happen in the world seven hun- dred years afterwards. It is, as already observed, of this time of sorrow and suffering to the Jews that Jeremiah is speaking in the verse in question. In the two next verses, the 16th and 17th, he endeavours to console the sufferers by giving them hopes, and, according to the fashion of speaking in those days, assurances from the Lord, that their suf- ferings should have an end. and that their children should return a^ain to their own children. But I leave the verses to speak for themselves, and the Old Testament to testify against the New. Jeremiah, chap. xxxi. ver. 15. — " Thus saith the Lord, a voice %vas heard in Ramah (it is in the preter tense) lamentation and bitter weeping : Rachael, weeping for her children because they were not." Verse 16. — " Thus saith the Lord, refrain thy voice from weep ing, and thine eyes from tears ; for thy work shall be rewarded, said the Lord, and they shall comt again from the land of th& enemy." Verse 17. — " And there is hope in thine end, saith the Lord that thy children shall come again to their own border." By what strange ignorance or imposition is it, that the children of which Jeremiah speaks, (meaning the people of the Jewish na- tion, scripturally called children of Israel, and not mere infants un- der two years old,) and who were to return again from the land of the enemy, and come aj^ain into their own borders, can mean tho THE PRC/fHECIES. 235 children that Matthew makes Herod to slaughter ? Could those return again from the land of the enemy, or how can the land of the enemy be applied to them? Could they come again to their own borders? Good heavens ! How has the world been imposed upon by Testament-makers, priestcraft, and pretended prophecies. I pass on to the fifth passage called a prophecy of Jesus Christ. This, like two of the former, is introduced by dream. Joseph dreamed another dream, and dreameth of another Angel. And Matthew is again the historian of the dream and the dreamer. If it were asked how Matthew could know what Joseph dreamed, neither the Bishop nor all the Church could answer the question. Perhaps it was Matthew that dreamed, and not Joseph ; that is, Joseph dreamed by proxy, in Matthew's brain, as they tell us Daniel dreamed for Nebuchadnezzar. But be this as it may, I go on with my subject. The account of this dream is in Matthew, chap. ii. verse 19. — " But when Herod was dead, behold an angel of the Lord appear- ed in a dream to Joseph in Egypt — Saying, arise, and take the young child and its mother and go into the land of Israel, for they are dead which sought the young child's life — and ho arose and took the young child and his mother and came into the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus did reign in Judea in the room of his father Herod, he was afraid to go thither. Not- withstanding being warned of God in a dream (here is another dream) he turned aside into the parts of Galilee ; and he came and dwelt in a city called JVazareth, that it might he fulfilled which %cas spoken hij the prophets. — He shall he called a JVazarine." Here is good circumstantial evidence, that Matthew dreamed, for there is no such passage in all the Old Testament ; and I in- vite the bishop and all the priests in Christendom, including those of America, to produce it. I pass on to the sixth passage, called a prophecy of Jesus Christ. This, as Swift says on another occasion, is lugged in head and shoulders ; it need only to be seen in order to be hooted as a forced and far-fetched piece of imposition. Matthew, chap. iv. v. 12. " Now when Jesus heard that John was cast into prison, he depa'^.ed into Galilee — and leavin^^ Naza- reth, he came and dwelt in Capernaum, which is upon the sea coast, in the borders of Zebulon and Nephthalim— That it might be fulfilled which was spoken by Esaias (Isaiah) the prophet, eay- 236 EXAMINATION OP mg, The land of Zebulon and the land of jyepthalim, by the icay of the sea, beyond Jordan, in Galilee of the Gentiles — the people iphich sat in darkness saw great light, and to them which sat in the region and shadow of death, light is springing upon them." I wonder Matthew has not made the cris-cross-row, or the christ- cross-row (I know not how the priests spell it) into a prophecy. He might as well have done this as cut out these unconnected and undescriptive sentences from the place they stand in and dubbed them with that title. The woids, however, are in Isaiah, chap. ix. verse 1, 2, as fol- lows : — " Nevertheless the dimness shall not be such as was in her vex- ation, when at the first he lightly afflicted the land of Zebidon and the land of JVephthali, and afterwards did more grievously afHict her by the icay of the sea, beyond Jordan in Galilee of the nations." All this relates to two circumstances that had already happened, at the time these words in Isaiah were written. The one, where the land of Zebulon and Nephthali had been lightly afflicted, and afterwards more grievously by the way of the sea. But observe, reader, how Matthew has falsified the text. He begins his quotation at a part of the verse where there is not so much as a comma, and thereby cuts off" every thing that relates to the first affliction. He then leaves out all that relates to the second affliction, and by this means leaves out every thing that makes the verse intelligible, and reduces it to a senseless skeleton of names of towns. To bring this imposition of Matthew clearly and immediately before the eye of the reader, I will repeat the verse, and put be- tween crotchets the words he has left out, and put in Italics those he has preserved. [Nevertheless the dimness shall not be such as was in her vex- ation when at the first he lightly afflicted] the land of Zebulon and the land of JVephthali, [and did afterwards more grievously aftiict her] by the way of the sea beyond Jordan in Galilee of the nations. What gross imposition is it to gut, as the phrase is, a verse in this manner, render it perfectly senseless, and then puff" it off on a credulous world as a prophecy. I proceed to the next verse. Ver. 2. " The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light ; they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon THE PROPHECIES. 237 them hath the hght shined." All this is historical, and not in the least prophetical. The whole is in the preter tense : it speaks of things that had been accomplished at the time the words were writ- ten, and not of things to be accomplished afterwards. As then the passage is in no possible sense prophetical, nor in- tended to be so, and that to attempt to make it so, is not only to falsify the original, but to commit a criminal imposition ; it is mat- ter of no concern to us, otherwise than as curiosity, to know who the people were of which the passage speaks, that sat in darkness, and what the light was that shined in upon them. If we look into the preceding chapter, the Sth, of which the 9th is only a continuation, we shall find the writer speaking, at the 19th verse, of" iciiches and ivizurds who peep about and mutter,^* and of people who made application to them ; and he preaches and exhorts them against this darksome practice. It is of this people, and of this darksome practice, or ivalking in darkness, that he is speaking at the 2d verse of the 9th chapter ; and with respect to the lighl that had shined in upon them, it refers entirely to his own ministry, and to the boldness of it, which opposed itself to that oi the tvitches and wizards who peeped about and muttered. Isaiah is, upon the whole, a wild disorderly writer, preserving in general no clear chain of perception in the arrangement of his ideas, and consequently producing no defined conclusions from them. It is the wildness of his style, the confusion of his ideas, and the ranting metaphors he employs, that have afforded so many opportunities to priestcraft in some cases, and to superstition in others, to impose those defects upon the world as prophecies ot Jesus Christ. Finding no direct meaning in them, and not know- ing what to make of them, and supposing at the same time they were intended to have a meaning, they supplied the defect by in- venting a meaning of their own, and called it his. I have, how- ever, in this place done Isaiah the justice to rescue him from the claws of Matthew, who has torn him unmercifully to pieces ; and from the imposition or ignorance of priests and commentators, by letting Isaiah speak for himself. If the words ivalking- in darkness, and light breaking in, could m any case be applied prophetically, which they cannot be, they would better apply to the times we now live in than to any other. The world has " ivalkcd in darkness^^ for eighteen hundred years, both as to religion and government, and it is only since the Ame- 238 EXAMINATION OF rican Revolution began that light has broken in. The belief of one God, whose attributes are revealed to us in the book or scrip- ture of the creation, which no human hand can counterfeit or falsi- fy, and not in the written or printed book which, as Matthew has shown, can be altered or falsified by ignorance or design, is now making its Way among us : and as to government, the light is al- ready gone forth, and whilst men ought to be careful not to be blinded by the excess of it, as at a certain time in France, when every thing was Robespierean violence, they ought to reverence, and even to adore it, with all the firmness and perseverance that true wisdom can inspire. I pass on to the seventh passage, called a prophecy of Jesus Christ. Matthew, chap. viii. ver. 16. " When the evening was come, they brought unto him (Jesus) many that were possessed with devils, and he cast out the spirit with his word, and healed all that were sick. — That it might be fulfilled which was spoken by Esaias (Isaiah) the prophet, saying, himself took our infirmities, and bare our sicknesses. This affair of people being possessed by devils, and of casting them out, was the fable of the day when the books of the New Testament were written. It had not existence at any other time. The books of the old Testament mention no such thing ; the peo- ple of the present day know of no such thing ; nor does the histo- ry of any people or country speak of such a thing. It starts upon us all at once in the book of Matthew, and is altogether an inven- tion of the New Testament-makers and the Christian church. The book of Matthew is the first book where the Avord Devil is mentioned.* We read in some of the books of the Old Testa- ment of things called familiar spirits, the supposed companions of people called witches and wizards. It was no other than the trick of pretended conjurors to obtain money from credulous and ig- norant people, or the fabricated charge of superstitious malignancy against unfortunate and decrepid old age. But the idea of a familar spirit, if we can affix any idea to the term, is exceedingly different to that of being possessed by a devil. In the one case, the supposed familar spirit is a dexterous agent, that comes and goes and does as ho is bidden ; in the * The word devil is a personification of tne word emi. THE PROPHECIES. 239 other, he is a turb ilent roaring monster, that tears and tortures the body into convulsions. Reader, whoever thou art, put thy trust in thy Creator, make use of the reason he endowed thee with, and cast from thee all such fables. The passage alluded to by Matthew, for as a quotation it is false, is in Isaiah, chap. liii. ver, 4, which is as follows : " Surely he (the person of whom Isaiah is speaking of) hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows." It is in the preter tense. Here is nothing about casting out devils, nor curing of sick- nesses. The passage, therefore, so far from being a prophecy of Christ, is not even applicable as a circumstance. Isaiah, or at least the writer of the book that bears his name, employs the whole of this chapter, the 53d, in lamenting the suf- ferings of some deceased persons, of whom he speaks very pathetically. It is a monody on the death of a friend ; but he mentions not the name of the person, nor gives any circumstance of him by which he can be personally known ; and it is this silence, which is evidence of nothing, that Matthew has laid hold of to put the name of Christ to it ; as if the chiefs of the Jews, whose sorrows were then great, and the times they lived in big with dan- ger, were never thinking about their own affairs, nor the fate of their own friends, but were continually running a wild-goose chase into futurity. To make a monody into a prophecy is an absurdity. The char- acters and circumstances of men, even in different ages of the world, are so much alike, that what is said of one may with pro- priety be said of many ; but this fitness does not make the passage into a prophecy ; and none but an impostor or a bigot would call it so. Isaiah, in deploring the hard fate and loss of his friend, men- tions nothing of him but what the human lot of man is su])ject to. All the cases he states of him, his persecutions, his imprisonment, his patience in suffering, and his perseverance in principle, are all within the line of nature : they belong exclusively to none, and may with justness be said of many. But if Jesus Christ was the person the church represents him to be, that which would exclu- sively apply to him, must be something that could not apply to any other person ; something beyond the line of nature ; some- thing beyond the lot of mortal man ; and there are no such 240 EXAMINATION OF expressions in this chapter, nor any other chapter in the Old Testament. It is no exclusive description to say of a person, as is said of the person Isaiah is lamenting in this chapter. He was oppressed and he u-as afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth ; he is brought as a Lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before his shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth." This may be said of thou- sands of persons, who have suffered oppressions and unjust death with patience, silence, and perfect resignation. Grotius, whom the bishop esteems a most learned man, and who certainly was so, supposes that the person of whom Isaiah is speaking, is Jeremiah. Grotius is led into this opinion, from the agreement there is between the description given by Isaiah, and the case of Jeremiah, as stated in the book that bears his name. If Jeremiah w as an innocent man, and not a traitor in the interest of Nebuchadnezzar, when Jerusalem was besieged his case was hard ; he was accused by his countrymen, was persecuted, op- pressed, and imprisoned, and he says of himself, (see Jeremiah, chap. ii. ver. 19,) " But as for me, I K'rts like a lamb or an ox that is brought to the slaughter." I should be inclined to the same opinion with Grotius, had Isaiah lived at the time when Jeremiah underwent the cruelties of which he speaks ; but Isaiah died about fifty years before ; and it is of a person of his own time, whose case Isaiah is lamenting in the chapter in question, and which imposition and bigotry, more than seven hundred years afterv/ards, perverted into a prophecy of a person they call Jesus Christ. I pass on to the eighth passage called a prophecy of Jesus Christ. Matthew, chap, xii. ver. .14. " Then the Pharisees went out and held a council against him, how they might destroy him — But when Jesus knew it he withdrew himself; and great numbers fol- lowed him and he healed them all — and he charged them that they should not make him known ; That it might be fulfilled which was spoken by Esaias (Isaiah) the prophet, saying, " Behold my servant whom I have chosen ; my beloved in whom my soul is well pleased, I will put my spirit upon him, and he shall show judgment to the Gentiles — he shall not strive nor cry, neither shall any man hear his voice in the streets — a bruised reed shall he not break, and smoaking flax shall he not quench, til. THE PROPHECIES. 241 he jends forth judgment unto victory — and in his name shall the Gentiles trust." In the first place, this passage hath not the least relation to the purpose for which it is quoted. Matthew says, that the Pharisees held a council against Jesus to destroy him — that Jesus withdrew himself — that great numbers followed him — that he healed them — and that he charged them they should not make him known. But the passage Matthew has quoted as being fulfilled by these circumstances, does not so much as apply to any one of them. It has nothing to do with the Pharisees holding a council to destroy Jesus — with his withdrawing himself — with great numbers follow- ing him — with his healing them — nor with his charging them not to make him known. The purpose for which the passage is quoted, and the passage itself, are as remote from each other, as nothing from something. But the case is, that people have been so long in the habit of reading the books, called the Bible and Testament, with their eyes shut, and their senses locked up, that the most stupid incon- sistencies have passed on them for truth, and imposition for pro phecy. The all-wise Creator has been dishonoured by be- ing made the author of fable, ana the human mind degraded by believing it. In this passage as in that last mentioned, the name of the per- son of whom the passage speaks is not given, and we are left in the dark respecting him. It is this defect in the history, that bigotry and imposition have laid hold of, to call it prophecy. Had Isaiah lived in the time of Cyrus, the passage would descriptively apply to him. As king of Persia, his authority was great among the Gentiles, and it is of such a character the pas- sage speaks ; and his friendship for the Jews whom he liberated from captivity, and who might then be compared to a bruised -.-eed, was extensive. • But this description does not apply to Jesus Christ, who had no authority among the Gentiles ; and as to his own countrymen, figuratively described by the bruised reed, it was they who crucified him. Neither can it be said of him that he did not cry, and that his voice was not heard in the street. As a preacher it was his business to be heard, and we are told that he travelled about the country for that purpose. Matthew has given a long sermon, which (if his authority is good^ 31 242 EXAMINATION OF but which is much to be doubted since he imposes so much,) Jesus preached to a multitude upon a mountain, and it would be a quibble to say that a mountain is not a street, since it is a place equally as public. The last verse in the passage (the 4th) as it stands in Isaiah, and which Matthew has not quoted, says, " He shall not fail nor be discouraged till he have set judgment in the earth and the isles shall wait for his law." This also applies to Cyrus. He was not discouraged, he did not fail, he conquered all Babylon, liberated the Jews, and established laws. But this cannot be said of Jesus Christ, wlio in the passage before us, according to Matthew, with- drew himself for fear of the Pharisees, and charged the people that followed him not to make it known where he was ; and who, according to other parts of the Testament, was continually mov- ing from place to place to avoid being apprehended.* * In the second part of the .Sge of Reason, I have shown that the book as- cribed to Isaiah is not only miscellaneous as to matter, but as to autliorsliip ; that there are parts in it which could not be written by Isaiah, because they speak of things one hundred and fifty years after he was dead. The instance I have given of this, in that work, corresponds with the subject I am upon, at least a tittle better than J\Iatthew^s introduction and his quotation. Isaiah lived, the latter part of his life, in the time of Hezekiah, and it was about one hundred and fifty years, from the death of Hezekiah to the first year of the reign of Cyrus, when Cyrus published a proclamation, which is given in the first chapter of the Ijook of Ezra, for the return of the Jews to Jerusalem. It cannot be doulDted, at least it ought not to be doubted, that the Jews would feel an affectionate gratitude for this act of benevolent Justice, and it is natural they would express that gratitude in the customary style, bombastical and hy- perbolical as it was, which they used on extraordinary occasions, and which was, and still is in practice with all the eastern nations. The instance to which I refer, and which is given in the second part of the Age of Reason, is the last verse of the 44th chapter, and the beginning of the 45th — in these words: " That sailh of Cyrus, he is my shepherd dnd shall per- form all my pleasure : ei^en saying to Jenisalem thou shall be huilt, and to the Temple, thy foundation shall be laid. Thus sailh the Lord to his anointed, to Cyrus, whose right hand I have holden to subdue nations before him; andlioill loose the loins of kings, to open before him the two-leaved gates, and the gates shall not be shut." This complementary address is in the present tense, which shows that the things of which it speaks were in existence at the time of writing it ; and con- sequently that the author must have been at least one hundred and fifty years later than Isaiah, and that the book which bears his name is a compilation. The Proverbs called Solomon's, and the Psalms called David's, are of the same kind. The two last verses of the second book of Chronicles, and the three first verses of the first chapter of Ezra, are word for word the same ; which show that the compilers of the Bible mixed the writings of different authors toge- ther, and put them under some common head. As we have here an instance in the 44th and 45th chapters of the introduc- tion of the name of Cyrus into a book to which it cannot belong, it affords good ground to conclude, that the passage in the 42d chapter, in which the character of Cyrus is given without his name, has been introduced in like manner, eind that tho i.»erson there spoken of is Cyrus. THE PROPHECIES. 243 But it is immaterial to us, at this distance of time, to know who the pel son was : it is sufficient to the purpose I am upon, that of detecting fraud and falsehood, to know who it was not, and to show it was not the person called Jesus Chris*. I pass on to the ninth passage called a prophecy of Jesus Christ. Matthew, chap. xxi. v. 1. " And when they drew nigh unto Jerusalem, and were come to Bethpage, unto the mount of Olives, then Jesus sent two of his disciples, saying unto them, go into the village over against you, and straightway ye shall find an ass tied, and a colt with her, loose them and bring them unto me — and if any man say ought to you, ye shall say, the Lord hath need of them, and straitway he will send them. " All this was done that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, saying. Tell ye the daughter of Sion, behold thy Icing Cometh unto thee, meek, and sitting tipon an ass, and a colt the foal of an ass.^' Poor ass ! let it be some consolation amidst all thy sufferings, that if the heathen world erected a bear into a constellation, the Christian world has elevated thee into a prophecy. This passage is in Zechariah, chap. ix. ver 9, and is one of the whims of friend Zechariah to congratulate his countrymen, who were then returning from captivity in Babylon, and himself with them, to Jerusalem. It has no concern with any other subject. It IS strange that apostles, priests, and commentators, never per- mit, or never suppose, the Jews to be speaking of their own aflfairs. Every thing in the Jewish books is perverted and dis- torted into meanings never intended by the writers. Even the poor ass must not be a Jew-ass but a Christian-ass. I wonder they did not make an apostle of him, or a bishop, or at least make him speak and prophecy. He could have lifted up his voice as loud as any of them. Zechariah, in the first chapter of his book, indulges himself in several whims on the joy of getting back to Jerusalem. He says at the 8th verse, " I saw by night (Zechariah was a sharp- sighted seer) and behold a man setting on a red liorse, (yes, reader, a red horse,) and he stood among the myrtle trees that were in the bottom, and behind him were red horses speckled and white.^ He says nothing about green horses, nor blue horses, perhaps be- cause it is difficult to distinguish green from blue by night, but a 244 EXAMINATION OF Christian can have no doubt they were there, because ^'^ faith ii the evidence of things not seen." Zechariah then introduces an angel among his horses, but he does not tell us what colour the angel was of, whether black or white, nor whether he came to buy horses, or only to look at them as curiosities, for certainly they were of that kind. Be this how ever as it may, he enters into conversation with this angel, on the joyful affair of getting back to Jerusalem, and he saith at the 16th verse, " Therefore, thus saith the Lord, / am returned to Jerusa- lem with mercies ; my house shall be built in it saith the Lord of hosts, and a line shall be stretched forth upon Jerusalem. " An expression signifying the rebuilding the city. All this, whimsical and imaginary as it is, suflaciently proves that it was the entry of the Jews into Jerusalem from captivity, and not the entry of Jesus Christ, seven hundred years afterwards, that is the subject upon which Zechariah is always speaking. As to the expression of riding upon an ass, which commentators represent as a sign of humility in Jesus Christ, the case is, he ne- ver was so well mounted before. The asses of those countries are large and well-proportioned, and were anciently the chief of riding animals. Their beasts of burden, and which served also for the conveyance of the poor, were camels and dromedaries. We read in judges, chap. x. ver. 4, that " Jair, (one of the Judges of Israel,) had thirty sons that rode on thirty ass-colts, and they had thirty cities." But commentators distort every thing. There is besides very reasonable grounds to conclude that this story of Jesus riding publicly into Jerusalem, accompanied, as it is said at the 8th and 9th verses, by a great multitude, shouting and rejoicing, and spreading their garments by the way, is altoge- ther a story destitute of truth. In the last passage called a prophecy that I examined, Jesus is represented as withdrawing, that is, running away, and concealing himself for fear of being apprehended, and charging the people that were with him not to make him known. No new circum- stance had arisen in the interim to change his condition for the better ; yet here he is represented as making his public entry into the same city from which he had fled for safety. The two cases contradict each other so much, that if both are not false, one of them at least can scarcely be true. For my own part, I do not believf, there is one word of historical truth in the whole book THE PnoPHECIES. 245 I look upon it at best to be a romance : the principal personage of which is an imaginary or allegorical character founded upon some tale, and in which the moral is in many parts good, and the narra- tive part very badly and blunderingly written. I pass on to the tenth passage, called a prophecy of Jesus Christ. Matthew, chap. xxvi. ver. 51. " And behold one of them which was with Jesus (meaning Peter) stretched out his hand, and drew his sword, and struck a servant of the high priest, and smote off his ear. Then said Jesus unto him ; Put up again thy sword into its place, for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword. Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to my Father, and he shall presently give me more than twelve legions of angels. But how then shall the scriptures be fulfilled that thus it must be. In that same hour Jesus said to the multitudes, are ye come out as against a thief, with swords and with staves for to take me 1 I sat daily with you teaching ixi the temple, and ye laid no liold on me. But all this was done that the scriptures of the prophets might be fulfilled. This loose and general manner of speaking, admits neither of detection nor of proof. Here is no quotation given, nor the name of any Bible author mentioned, to which reference can be had. There are, however, some high improbabilities against the truth of the account. First — It is not probable that the Jews, who were tnen a con- quered people, and under subjection to the Romans, should be permitted to wear swords. Secondly — If Peter had attacked the servant of the high priest and cut off his ear, he would have been immediately taken up by the guard that took up his master and sent to prison with him. Thirdly — "What sort of disciples and preaching apostles must those of Christ have been that wore swords 1 Fourthly — This scene is represented to have taken place the same evening of what is called the Lord's supper,,which makes, according to the ceremony of it, the inconsistency of wearing swords the greater. I pass on to the eleventh passage called a prophecy of Jesus Christ. Matthew, chap, xxvii. ver. 3. " Then Judas, which had be- trayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented him- 246 EXAMINATION OF self, and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the chief p-"ests and elders, saying, I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood. And they said, what is that to us, see thou to that. And he cast down the thirty pieces of silver, and departed, and went and hanged himself — And the chief priests took the sil ver pieces and said, it is not lawful to put them in the treasury, because it is the price of blood — And they took counsel and bought with them the potter's field to bury strangers in — Where- fore that field is called the field of blood unto this day. Then was fulfilled that which was spoken by Jeremiah the prophet, say- ing. And they took the thirty pieces of silver, the price of him that was valued, whom they of the children of Israel did value, and gave them for the potter's field, as the Lord appointed me." This is a most barefaced piece of imposition. The passage in Jeremiah which speaks of the purchase of a field, has no more to do with the case to which Matthew applies it, than it has to do ■with the purchase of lands in America. I will recite the whole passage : Jeremiah, chap, xxxii, v. 6. " And Jeremiah said, the word of the Lord came unto me, saying — Behold Hanamiel, the son of Shallum thine uncle, shall come unto thee, saying, buy thee my field that is in Anathoth, for the right of redemption is thine to buy it — So Hanamiel mine uncle's son came to me in the court of the prison, according to the word of the Lord, and said unto me, buy my field I pray thee that is in Anathoth, which is in the coun- try of Benjamin, for the right of inheritance is thine, and the re- demption is thine ; buy it for thyself. Then I knew this was the ■word of the Lord — And I bought the field of Hanamiel mine uncle's son, that was in Anathoth, and weighed him the money, even seventeen shekels of silver — and I subscribed the evidence and sealed it, and took witnesses and weighed him the money in balances. So I took the evidence of the purchase, both that which was sealed according to the law and custom, and that whic'i was open — and I gave the evidence of the purchase unto Baruch, the son of Neriah, the son of Maasaeiath, in the sight of Hanamiel mine uncle's son, and in the presence of the witnesses that sub- scribed, before all the Jews that sat in the court of the prison — and I charged Baruch before them, saying. Thus saith the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, Take these evidences, this evidence of the purchase both which is sealed, and tliis evidence which is THE PROPHECIES. 247 open, and put them in an earthen vessel, that they may coi.tinue many days — for thus saith the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, houses, and fields, and vineyards, shall be possessed again in this land." I forbear making any remark on this abominable imposition of Matthew. The thing glaringly speaks for itself. It is priests and commentators that I rather ought to censure, for having preached falsehood so long, and kept people in darkness with re- spect to those impositions. I am not contending with these men upon points of doctrine, for I know that sophistry has always a city of refuge. I am speaking of facts : for wherever the thing called a fact is a falsehood, the faith founded upon it is delusion, and the doctrine raised upon it not true. Ah, reader, put thy trust in thy Creator, and thou wilt be safe ! but if thou trustest to the book called the scriptures, thou trustest to the rotten staff of fable and falsehood. But I return to my subject. There is among the whims and reveries of Zechariah, mention made of thirty pieces of silver given to a potter. They can hardly have been so stupid as to mistake a potter for a field : and if they had, the passage in Zechariah has no more to do with Jesus, Judas, and the field to bury strangers in, than that already quoted. I will recite the passage. Zechariah, chap. xi. ver. 7. " And I will feed the flock of slaughter, even you, poor of the flock ; and I took unto me two staves ; the one I called Beavtij, and the other I called Bitnch; and I fed the flock — Three shepherds also, I cut oft' in one month ; and my soul loathed them, and their soul also abhorred me. — Then said I, I will not feed you ; that which dieth, let it die ; and that which is to be cut off, let it be cut off; and let the rest eat every one the flesh of another. — And I took my staff, even Benidij, and cut it asunder, that I might break my covenant which I had made with all the people. — And it was broken in that day ; and so the poor of the flock who waited upon me, knew that it was the word of the Lord. " And I said unto them, if ye think good give me my price, and if not, forbear. So they weighed for my price thirty pieces of sil- ver. And the Lord said unto me, cast it unto the potter, a goodly price that I was prized at of them ; and I took the thirty pieces of silver and cast them to the potter in the house of the Lord. 248 EXAMINATION OP " When I cut asunder mine other stafT, even Bands, that I might break the brotherhood between Judah and Israel."* There is no making either head or tail of this incoherent gib- berish. His two staves, one called Beauty and the other Bands^ is so much like a fairy tale, that I doubt if it had any other origin. — There is, however, no part that has the least relation to the case stated in Matthew ; on the contrary, it is the reverse of it. Here the thirty pieces of silver, whatever it was for, is called a goodly price, it was as much as the thing was worth, and according to the language of the day, was approved of by the Lord, and the money given to the potter in the house of the Lord. In the case of Jesus and Judas, as stated in Matthew, the thirty pieces of silver were the price of blood ; the transaction was condemned by the Lord, and the money when refunded, was refused admittance into the Treasury. Every thing in the two cases is the reverse of each other. Besides this, a very different and direct contrary account to that of Matthew, is given of the affair of Judas, in the book called the Acts of the Aposllcs ; according to that book, the case is, that so far from Judas repenting and returning the money, and the high priest buying a field with it to bury strangers in, Judas kept the * Whiston, in his Essay on the Old Testament, says, that the passage of Zechariah of which I have spoken, was in the copies of the Bible of the first century, in the bonk of Jeremiah, from whence, says he, it was taken and in- serted without coherence, in that of Zechariah — well, let it be so, it does not make the fcase a whit the better for the New Testament ; but it makes the case a great deal the worse for the Old. Because it shows, as I have mentioned respecting some passages in a book ascribed to Isaiah, that the works of different authors have been so mixed and confounded together, they cannot now be dis- criminated, except where they are historical, chronological, or biographical, as in the interpolation in Isaiah. It is the name of Cyrus inserted where it could not be inserted, as he was not in existence till one hundred and fifty years after the time of Isaiah, that detects the interpolation and the blunder with it. Whiston was a man of great literary learning, and what is of mucli higher degree, of deep scientific learning. He was on'e of the best and most celebra- ted mathematicians of his time, for which he was made professor of mathema- tics of the University of Cambridge. He wrote so much in defence of the Old Testament, and of what he calls prophecies of Jesus Christ, that at last he be- gan to suspect the truth of the Scriptures, and wrote against them ; for it is only those who examine them, that see the imposition. Those who beheve them most, are those who know least about them. Whiston, after writing so much in defence of the Scriptures, was at last pro- secuted for writing against them. It was this that gave occasion to Swift, in his ludicrous epigram on Ditton and Whiston, each of which set up to find out the longitude, to call the one good master Ditton and the other, wicked Will Wliis- ton. But as Swift was a great associate with the Freethinkers of those days, such as Bolingbroke, Pope, and others, who did not believe the book called tlie scriptures, there is no certainty whether he wittily called him wicked for defend- ing the scriptures, or for writing against them. The known character of Swift decides ft r the former. THE PROPHECIES 249 money and bought a field with it for himself; and instead of hang- ing himself, as Matthews says, he fell headlong and burst asunder — some commentators endeavour to get over one part of the con- tradiction by ridiculously supposing that Judas hanged himself first and the rope broke. Acts, chap. i. ver. 16. " Men and brethren, this scripture must needs have been fulfilled which the Holy Ghost by the mouth of David spake before concerning Judas, which was a guide to them that took Jesus. (Duvid says not a word about Judas,) ver. 17, for he (Judas) was numbered among us and obtained part of our ministry." Ver. 18. " Kow this man imrchased a field icith the reward of iniquity, and falling headlong, he bluest asunder in the midst, and his boivels gushed outy Is it not a species of blasphemy to call the New Testament revealed religion, when we see in it such con- tradictions and absurdities. I pass on to the twelfth passage called a prophecy of Jesus Christ. Matthew, chap, xxvii. ver. 35. " And they crucified him, and parted his garments, casting lots ; that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, Theij parted my garments among them, and upon my vesture did they cast lots." This expression is in the 22d Psalm, ver. 18. The writer of that Psalm (whoever he was, for the Psalms are a collection and not the work of one man) is speaking of himself and his own case, and not that of ano- ther. He begins this Psalm with the words which the New Tes- tament writers ascribed to Jesus Christ. " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me" — words which might be uttered by a complaining man without any great impropriety, but very impro- perly from the mouth of a reputed God. The picture which the writer draws of his own situation in this Psalm, is gloomy enough. He is not prophecying, but complain- ing of his own hard case. He represents himself as surrounded by enemies, and beset by persecutions of every kind ; and by way of showing tho inveteracy of his persecutors, he says, at the 18th verse, " They parted my garments among them, and cast lots upon my vesture." The expression is in the present tense ; and is the same as to say, they pursue me even to the clothes upon my back, and dispute how they shall divide them ; besides, the word vesture does not always mean clothing of any kind, but property, or rather 32 250 EXAMINATION OF the admitting a man to, or investing him with property ; and as it is used in this Psalm distinct from the word garment, it appears to be used in this sense. But Jesus had no property ; for they make him say of himself, " The foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man hath not where to lay his head.^^ But be this as it may, if we permit ourselves to suppose the Al- mighty would condescend to tell", by what is called the spirit of prophecy, what could come to pass in some future age of the world, it is an injury to our own faculties, and to our ideas of his great- ness, to imagine that it would be about an old coat, or an old pair of breeches, or about any thing which the common accidents of life, or the quarrels that attend it, exhibit every day. That which is in the power of man to do, or in his will not to do, is not a subject foi prophecy, even if there were such a thing, because it cannot carry with it any evidence of divine power, or divine interposition : The ways of God are not the ways of men. That which an almighty power performs, or wills, is not within the circle of human power to do, or to controul. But any executioner and his assistants might quarrel about dividing the garments of a sufferer, or divide them without quarelling, and by that means ful- fil the thing called a prophecy or set it aside. In the passage before examined, I have exposed the falsehood of them. In this I exhibit its degrading meanness, as an insult to the Creator and an injury to human reason. Here end the passages called prophecies by Matthew. Matthew concludes his book by saying, that when Christ expired on the cross, the rocks rent, the graves opened, and the bodies of many of the saints arose ; and Mark says, there was darkness over the land from the sixth hour until the ninth. They produce no prophecy for this ; but had these things been facts, they would have been a proper subject for prophecy, because none but an almighty power could have inspired a fore-knowledge of them, and afterwards fulfilled them. Since then there is no such prophe- cy, but a pretended prophecy of an old coat, the proper deduction is, there were no such things, and that the book of Matthew is fable and falsehood. I pass on to the book called the Gospel according to St. Mark THE PROPHECIES. 261 THE BOOK OF MARK. There are but few passages in Mark called prophecies ; and but few in Luke and John. Such as there are I shall examine, and also such other passages as interfere with those cited by Mat thew. Mark begins his book by a passage which he puts in the shape of a prophecy. Mark, chap. 1, verse 1. — " The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God — As it is written in the prophets, Behold I send my messenger before thy face, ivhich shall prepare the way before thee." Malachi, chap, iii, verse 1. The passage in the original is in the first person. Mark makes this passage to be a prophecy of John the Baptist, said by the Church to be a forerunner of Jesus Christ. But if we attend to the verses that follow this expression, as it stands in Malachi, and to the first and fifth verses of the next chapter, we shall see that this applica- tion of it is erroneous and false. Malachi having said, at the first verse, " Behold I will send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me," says, at the second verse, " But who may abide the day of his coming 1 and who shall stand when he appeareth 1 for he is like a refiner's fire, and like fuller's soap." This description can have no reference to the birth of Jesus Christ, and consequently none to John the Baptist. It is a scene of fear and terror that is here described, and the birth of Christ is always spoken of as a time of joy and glad tidings. Malachi, continuing to speak on the same subject, explains in the next chapter what the scene is of which he speaks in the verses above quoted, and whom the person is whom he calls the messenger. " Behold," says he, chap. iv. verse 1, " the day cometh that shall Durn like an oven, and all the proud, yea, and all that do wickedly, shall be stubble ; and the day cometh that shall burn them up, saith the Lord of hosts, that it shall leave them neither root nor branch." V'erse 5. " Behold I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord." By what right, or by what imposition or ignorance Mark has made Elijah into John the Baptist, and Malachi's description of 252 EXAMINATION OP the day of judgment into the birth day of Christ, I leave to the Bishop to settle. Mark, in the second and third verses of his first chapter, con- founds two passages together, taken from different books of the Old Testament. The second verse, " Behold I send my messen- ger before thy face, which shall prepare the way before me," is taken, as I have said before, from Malachi. The third verse, which says, " The voice of one crying in the wilderness, prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his path straight," is not in Malachi, but in Isaiah, chap, xi, verse 3. "Whiston says, that both these verses were originally in Isaiah. If so, it is another instance of the disordered state of the Bible, and corroborates what I have said with respect to the name and description of Cyrus being in the book of Isaiah, to which it cannot chronologically belong. The words in Isaiah, chap. xl. verse 3. " The voice of him that crxjelh in the wilderness, prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his path straight," are in the present tense, and consequently not predictive. It is one of those rhetorical figures which the Old Testament authors frequently used. That it is merely rhetorical and metaphorical, may be seen at the 6th verse. " And the voice said, cry ; and he said what shall I cry 1 Ml flesh is grass." This is evidently nothing but a figure ; for flesh is not grass otherwise than as a figure or metaphor, where one thing is put for another. Besides which, the whole passage is too general and declamatory to be applied exclusively to any particular person or purpose. I pass on to the eleventh chapter. In this chapter, Mark speaks of Christ riding into Jerusalem upon a, colt, but he does not make it the accomplishment of a pro- phecy, as Matthew has done ; for he says nothing about a prophe- cy. Instead of which, he goes on the other tack, and in order to add new honors to the ass, he makes it to be a miracle ; for he says, ver. 2, it was " a colt whereon never man sat ;" signi- fying thereby, that as the ass had not been broken, he consequent- ly was inspired into good manners, for we do not hear that he kicked Jesus Christ off. There is not a word about his kicking ;n all the four Evangelists. I pass on from these feats of horsemanship, performed upon a jack-ass, to the 15th chapter. At the 24th verse of this chapter Mark speaks of parting Christ's garments and casting lots upon them, but he applies no THE PROPHECIES. 253 prophecy to it as Matthew does. He rather speaks of it as a thing then in practice with executioners, as it is at this day. At the 28th verse of the same chapter, Mark speaks of Christ being crucified between two thieves ; that, says he, " the scrip- tures might be fulfilled which saith, and he was numbered with the transgressors." The same thing might be said of the thieves. This expression is in Isaiah, chap. hii. ver. 12 — Grotius applies it to Jeremiah. But the case has happened so often in the world, where innocent men have been numbered with transgressors, and is still continually happening, that it is absurdity to call it a pro- phecy of any particular person. All those whom the church call martyrs were numbered with transgressors. All the honest patriots who fell upon the scaffold in France, in the time of Robespierre, were numbered with transgressors ; and if himself had not fallen, the same case, according to a note in his own hand- writing, had befallen me ; yet I suppose the bishop will not allow that Isaiah was prophesying of Thomas Paine. These are all the passages in Mark which have any reference to prophecies. Mark concludes his book by making Jesus say to his disciples, chap. xvi. ver. 15, " Go ye into all the world and preach the Gos- pel to every creature ; he that believeth and is baptized shall be saved, but he that believeth not shall be damned, (fine Popish stuff this,) and these signs shall follow them that behove ; in my name they shall cast out devils ; they shall speak with new tongues ; they shall take up serpents, and if they drink any deadly thing it shall not hurt them ; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover." Now, the bishop, in order to know if he has all this saving and wonder-working faith, should try those things upon himself. He should take a good dose of arsenic, and if he please, I will send him a rattle-snake from America ! As for myself, as I believe in God and not at all in Jesus Christ, nor in the books called the scriptures, the experiment does not concern me. I pass on to the book of Luke. There are no passages in Luke called prophecies, except- ing those which relate to the passages I have already examined. Luke speaks of Mary being espoused to Joseph, but he makes no references to the passage in Isaiah, as Matthew does. He speaks also of Jesus riding into Jerusalem upon a colt, but he 254 EXAMINATION OP says nothing about a prophecy. He speaks of John the Baptist and refers to the passage in Isaiah of which I have ah-eady spoken. At the 13th chapter, verse 31, he says, "The same day there came certain of the Pharisees, saying unto him (Jesus) get thee out and depart hence, for Herod will kill thee — and he said unto them, go ye and tell that fox, behold I cast out devils and I do cures to-day and to-morrow, and the third day I shall be per- fected." Matthew makes Herod to die whilst Christ was a child in Egypt, and makes Joseph to return with the child on the news of Herod's death, who had sought to kill him. Luke makes Herod to be living, and to seek the life of Jesus after Jesus was thirty years of age : for he says, chap. iii. v. 23, " And Jesus began to be about thirty years of age, being, as was supposed, the son of Jo- seph." The obscurity in which the historical part of the New Testa- ment is involved with respect to Herod, may afford to priests and commentators a plea, which to some may appear plausible, but to none satisfactory, that the Herod of which Matthew speaks, and the Herod of which Luke speaks, were different persons. Mat- thew calls Herod a king; and Luke, chap. iii. v. 1, calls Herod Tetrarch (that is, Governor) of Galilee. But there could be no such person as a king Herod, because the Jews and their country were then under the dominion of the Roman Emperors who gov erned then by Tetrarchs or Governors. Luke, chap. ii. makes Jesus to be born when Cyrenius was Governor of Syria, to which government Judea was annexed ; and according to this, Jesus was not born in the time of Herod. Luke says nothing about Herod seeking the life of Jesus when he was born ; nor of his destroying the children under t\vo years old ; nor of Joseph fleeing with Jesus into Egypt : nor of his re- turning from thence. On the contrary, the book of Luke speaks as if the person it calls Christ had never been out of Judea, and that Herod sought his life after he commenced preaching, as is be- fore stated. I have already shown that Luke, in the book called the Acts of the Apostles, (which commentators ascribe to LukeO contradicts the account in Matthew, with respect to Judas and the thirty pieces of silver. Matthew says, that Judas returned the money, and that the high priests bought with it a field to bury THE PROPHECIES. 255 strangers in. Luke says, that Judas kept the money, and bought a field with it for himself. As it is impossible the wisdom of God should err, so it is im- possible those books should have been written by divine inspira- tion. Our belief in God, and his unerrmg wisdom, forbids us to believe it. As for myself, I feel religiously happy in the total dis- belief of it. There are no other passages called prophecies in Luke than those I have spoken of. I pass on to the book of John. THE BOOK OF JOHN. John, like Mark and Luke, is not much of a prophecy-monger. He speaks of the ass, and the casting lots for Jesus' clothes, and some other trifles, of which I have already spoken. John makes Jesus to say, chap. v. ver. 46, " For had ye be- lieved Moses, ye would have believed me, for he wrote of me.'' The book of the Acts, in speaking of Jesus, says, chap. iii. ver. 22, " For Moses truly said unto the fathers, a prophet shall the Lord your God raise up unto you, of your brethren, like unto me, him shall ye hear in all things whatsoever he shalt say unto you." This passage is in Deuteronomy, chap, xviii. ver. 15. They apply it as a prophecy of Jesus. What impositions ! The per- son spoken of in Deuteronomy, and also in Numbers, where the same person is spoken of, is Joshua, the minister of Moses, and his immediate successor, and just such another Robespierrean character as Moses is represented to have been. The case, as re- lated in those books, is as follows : — Moses was grown old and near to his end, and in order to pre- vent confusion after his death, for the Israelites had no settled sys- tem of government ; it was thought best to nominate a successor to Moses while he was yet living. This was done, as we are told, in the following manner : Numbers, chap, xxvii. ver. 12. " And the Lord said unto Mo- ses, get thee up into this mount Abarim, and see the land which I have given unto the children of Lsrael — and when thou hast seen it, thou also shall be gathered unto thy people, as Aaron thy bro- ther is gathered, ver. 15. And Moses spake unto the Lord, say 256 EXAMINATION OF ing, Let the Lord, the God of the spirits of all flesh, set a man over the congregation — Which may go out before them, and which may go in before them, and which may lead them out, and which maj bring them in, that the congregation of the Lord be not as sheep that have no shepherd — And the Lord said unto Moses, take thee Joshua, the son of Nun, a man in whom is the spirit, and lay thine hand upon hirti — and set him before Eleazar, the priest, and before all the congregation, and give him a charge in their sight — and thou shalt put some of thine honour upon him, that all the con- gregation of the children of Israel may be obedient — ver. 22, and Moses did as the Lord commanded, and he took Joshujt, and set him before Eleazar the priest, and before all the congregation ; and he laid hands upon him, and gave him charge as the Lord command- ed by the hand of Moses." I have nothing to do, in this place, with the truth, or the conjura- tion here practised, of raising up a successor to Moses like unto himself. The passage sufficiently proves it is Joshua, and that it is an imposition in John to make the case into a prophecy of Jesus, But the prophecy-mongers were so inspired with falsehood, that they never speak truth.* * Newton, Bishop of Bristol in England, published a work in three volumes, entitled, " Dissertations on the Prophecies.'''' The work is tediously written and tiresome to read. He strains hard to make every passage into a prophecy that suits his purpose. — Among others, he makes this expression of Moses, " the Lord shall raise thee up a prophet like unto me," into a prophecy of Chrisi.. who was not born, according to the Bible chronologies, till fifteen hun -.red and fifty-two years after the time of Moses, whereas it was an immediate successi. to Moses, who was then near his end, tliat is spoken of in the passage above quoted. This Bishop, the better to impose this passage on the world as a prophecy of Christ, lias entirely omitted the account in the bock of Numbers which I have given at length, word for word, and which shows, beyond the possibility of a doubt, that the person spoken of by Moses, is Joshua, and no other per- son. Newton is but a superficial writer. He takes up things upon hear-say, and inserts them without either examination or reflection, and the more extraor- dinary and incredible they are, the better he likes them. In speaking of the walls of Babylon, (volume the first, page 263,) he makes a quotation from a traveller of tlie name of Tavernur, whom he calls, (by way of giving credit to what he says,) a celebrated traveller, that those walls were made of burnl brick, ten feet square and three feet thick. — If Newton had only thought of calculating the weiglit of such a brick, he would have seen the im- possibility of their being used or even made. A brick ten feet square, and three feet thick, contains tliree hundred cubic feet, and allowing a cubic foot of brick to be only one hundred pounds, each of the Bishop's bricks would weigh thirty thousand pounds ; and it would take about thirty cart loads of clay (one horse carts) to make one brick. But his account of the stones used in the building of Solomon's temple, (vol- ume 2d, page 211,) far exceeds his bricks of ten feet square in the walls Ot Babylon ; these are but brick-bats compared to them. THE PROPHECIES. 257 I pass to the last passage in these fables of the Evangelists called a prophecy of Jesus Christ. John, having spoken of Jesus expiring on the cross between two thieves, says, chap. xix. verse 32. " Then came the soldiers and brake the legs of the first (meaning one of the thieves) and of the other which was crucified with him. But when they came tc Jesus, and saw that he was dead already, they brake not his legs — verse 36, for these things were done that the Scripture should be fulfilled, A bone of him shall not be broken.^^ The passage here referred to is in Exodus, and has no more to do with Jesus than with the ass he rode upon to Jerusalem ; — nor yet so much, if a roasted jack-ass, like a roasted he-goat, might be eaten at a Jewish passover. It might be some consolation to an ass to know that though his bones might be picked, they would not be broken. I go to state the case. The book of Exodus, in instituting the Jewish passover, in which they were to eat a he-lamb or a he-goat, says, chap, xii, The stones ^says he) employed in the foundation, were in magnitude forty cubits, that is, above sixty feet, a cubit, says he, being somewhat more than one foot and a half, (a cubit is one foot nine inches,) and the superstructure (says this Bishop) was worthy of such foundations. There were some stones, says he, of the whitest marble forty-five cubits long, five cubits high, and six cubits broad. These are the dimensions this Bishop has given, which in measure of twelve inches to a foot, is 78 feet nine inches long, 10 feet 6 inches broad, and 8 feet three inches thick, and contains 7,234 cubic feet. I now go to demonstrate the imposition of this Bishop. A cubic foot of water weighs sixty-two pounds and a half — The specific gravity of marble to water is as 2 1-2 is to one. The weight, therefore, of a cu- bic foot of marble is 556 pounds, which, multiplied by 7,234, the number of cubic feet in one of those stones, makes the weight of it to be 1,128,504 pounds, which is 503 tons. Allowing then a horse to draw about half a ton, it will reqiure a thousand horses to draw one such stone on the groimd ; how then were they to be lifted into the building by human hands ? The bishop may talk of faith removing mountains, but all the faith of all the Bishops that ever lived could not remove one of those stones and their bodily strength given in. This Bishop also tells of great gxins used by the Tiu-ks at the taking of Con- stantinople, one of which, he says, was drawn by seventy yoke of oxen, and by two thousand men. Vol. 3d, page 1 1 7. The weight of a cannon that can-ies a ball of 43 pounds, which is the largest cannon that are cast, weighs 8000 pounds, about three tons and a half, and may be drawn by three yoke of oxen. Any body may now calculate what t?ie weight of the Bishop's great gim must be, that reqmred seventy yoke of oxen to draw it. This Bishop beats Gulliver. When men give up the use of the divine gift of reason in writing on any sub- ject, be it rehgious or any thing else, there are no bounds to their extravagance, 110 limit to their absurdities. The three volumes which this Bishop has written on what he calls the pro- phecies, contain above 1290 pages, and he says in vol. 3, page 117, "J have «tu- dUd brevity." This is as marvellous as the Bishop's great gun. 33 258 EXAMINATION OF verse 5. " Your lamb shall be without blemish, a male of the first year ; ye shall take it from the sheep or from the goats." The book, after stating some ceremonies to be used in killing and dressing it, (for it was to be roasted, not boiled,) says, ver. 43, " And the Lord said unto Moses and Aaron, this is the ordinance of the passover : there shall no stranger eat thereof ; but every man's servant that is bought for money, when thou hast circum- cised him, then shall he eat thereof. A foreigner shall not eat thereof. In one house shall it be eaten ; thou shalt not carry forth ought of the flesh thereof abroad out of the house ; neither shah thou break a hone thereof." We here see that the case as it stands in Exodus is a ceremony and not a prophecy, and totally unconnected with Jesus's bones, or any part of him. John, having thus filled up the measure of apostolic fable, con- cludes his book with something that beats all fable ; for he says at the last verse, " And there are also many other things which Jesus did, the which if they could be written every one, / suppose that even the loorld itself could not contain the books that should be written." This is what in vulgar life is called a thumper ; that is, not only a lie, but a lie beyond the line of possibility ; besides which it is an absurdity, for if they should be written in the world, the world would contain them. — Here ends the examination of the passages called prophecies. I HAVE now, reader, gone through and examined all the passages which the four books of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, quote from the Old Testament and call them prophecies of Jesus Christ. When I first sat down to this examination, I expected to find cause for some censure, but little did I expect to find them so utterly destitute of truth, and of all pretensions to it, as I have shown them to be. The practice which the writers of those books employ is not more false than it is absurd. They state some trilling case of the person they call Jesus Christ, and then cut out a sentence from some passage of the Old Testament and call it a prophecy of that case. But when the words thus cut out are restored to the place 'thev are taken from, and read with the words before and after THE PROPHECIES. 259 them, they give the lie to the New Testament. A short instance or two of this will suffice for the whole. They make Joseph to dream of an angel, who informs him that Herod is dead, and tells him to come with the child out of Egypt. They then cut out a sentence from the book of Hosea, " Out of Egypt have I called my 5ow," and apply it as a prophecy in that case. The words " And called my Son aid of Egijpf," are in the Jjible ; — but what of that? They are only part of a passage, and not a whole passage, and stand immediately connected with other words, which show they refer to the children of Israel coming out of Egypt in the time of Pharoah, and to the idolatry they com- mitted afterwards. Again, they tell us that when the soldiers came to break the legs of the crucified persons, they found Jesus was already dead, and, therefore, did not break his. They then, with some alteration of the original, cut out a sentence from Exodus, " a bone of him shall not be broken," and apply it as a prophecy of that case. The words " JVeither shall ye break a bone thereof," (for they have altered the text,) are in the Bible — but what of that? They are, as in the former case, only part of a passage, and not a whole passage, and when read with the words they are immediately joined to, show it is the bones of a he-lamb or a he-goat of which the passage speaks. These repeated forgeries and falsifications create a well-founded suspicion, that all the cases spoken of concerning the person called Jesus Christ are made cases, on purpose to lug in, and that very clumsily, some broken sentences from the Old Testament, and apply them as prophecies of those cases ; and that so far from his being the Son of God, he did not exist even as a man — that he is merely an imaginary orallegorjcal character, asApollo, Hercules, Jupiter, and all the deities of antiquity were. There is no history written at the time Jesus Christ is said to have lived that speaks of the existence of such a person, even as a man. Did we find in any other book pretending to give a system of religion, the falsehoods, falsifications, contradictions, and absurdi- ties, which are to be met within almost every page of the Old and New Testament, all the priests of the present day, who supposed themselves capable, would triumphantly show their skill in criti- cism, and cry it down as a most glaring imposition. But since the 260 EXAMINATION OF books in question belong to their own trade and profession, they or at least many of them, seek to stifle every inqiiiry into thenrK and abuse those who have the honesty and the courage to do it. When a book, as is the case with the Old and New Testa ment, is ushered into the world under the title of being the Word OF God, it ought to be examined with the utmost strictness, in order to know if it has a well founded claim to that title or not, and whether we are or are not imposed upon : for as no poison is so dangerous as that which poisons the physic, so no falsehood is so fatal as that which is made an article of faith. This examination becomes more necessary, because when the New Testament was written, I might say invented, the art of print- ing was not known, and there were no other copies of the Old Testament than written copies. A written copy of that book would cost about as much as six hundred common printed bibles now cost. Consequently was in the hands of very few persons, and these chiefly of the church. This gave an opportunity to the writers of the New Testament to make quotations from the Old Testament as they pleased, and call them prophecies, with very little danger of being detected. Besides which, the terrors and inquisitorial fury of the church, like what they tell us of the flaming sword that turned every way, stood sentry over the New Testa- ment ; and time, which brings every thing else to light, has served to thicken the darkness that guards it from detection. Were the New Testament now to appear for the first time, every priest of the present day would examine it line by line, and compare the detached sentences it calls prophecies with the whole passages in the Old Testament from whence they are taken. Why then do they not make the same examination at this time, as they would make had the New Testament never appeared before? If it be proper and right to make it in one case, it is equ-ally proper and right to do it in the other case. Length of time can make no difference in the right to do it at any time. But, instead of doing this, they go on as their predecessors v/ent on before them, to tell the people there are prophecies of Jesus Christ, when the truth is there are none. They tell us that Jesus rose from the dead, and ascended into heaven. It is very easy to say so ; a great lie is as easily told as a little one. But if he had done so, those would have been the only circumstances respecting him that would have differed from THE PROPHECIES. 261 the common lot of man ; and, consequently, the only case that would apply exclusively to him, as prophecy, would be some pas- sage in the Old Testament that foretold such things of him. But there is not a passage in the Old Testament that speaks of a per- son, who, after being crucified, dead, and buried, should rise from the dead, and ascend into heaven. Our prophecy-mongers supply the silence the Old Testament guards upon such things, by telling us of passages they call prophecies, and that falsely so, about Joseph's dream, old clothes, broken bones, and such like trifling stuff. In writing upon this, as upon every other subject, I speak a lan- guage full and intelligible. I deal not in hints and intimations. I have several reasons for this : First, that I may be clearly under* stood. Secondly, that it may be seen I am in earnest. And third- ly, because it is an affront to truth to treat falsehood with com- plaisance. I will close this treatise with a subject I have already touched upon in the First Part of the Jlge of Reason. The world has been amused with the term revealed religion, and the generality of priests apply this term to the books called the Old and New Testament. The Mahometans apply the same term to the Koran. There is no man that believes in revealed religion stronger than I do ; but it is not the reveries of the Old and New Testament, nor of the Koran, that I dignify with that sacred title. That which is revelation to me, exists in something which no hu- man mind can invent, no human hand can counterfeit or alter. The Word of God is the Creation we behold ; and this word of God revealeth to man all that is necessary for man to know of his Creator. Do we want to contemplate his power ? We see it in the immensity of his creation. Do we want to contemplate his wisdom 1 We see it in the unchangeable order by which the incomprehensible whole is governed. Do we want to contemplate his munificence ? We see it in the abundance with which he fills the earth. Do we want to contemplate his mercy ? We see it in his not withholding that abundance, even from the unthankful. Do we want to contemplate his will, so far as it respects man % 262 EXAMINATION or The goodness he shows to all, is a lesson for our conduct to each other. In fine — Do we want to know what God is ? Search not the book called the Scripture, which any human hand might make, or any impostor invent ; but the scripture called the Creation. When, in the first part of the Age of Reason, I called the Crea- tion the true revelation of God to man, I did not know that any other person had expressed the same idea. But I lately met with the writings of Doctor Conyers Middleton, published the beginning of last century, in which he expresses himself in the same manner with respect to the Creation, as I have done in the Age of Reason. He was principal librarian of the University of Cambridge, in England, which furnished him with extensive opportunities of reading, and necessarily required he should be well acquainted with the dead as well as the living languages. He was a man of a strong original mind ; had the courage to think for himself, and the honesty to speak his thoughts. He made a journey to Rome, from whence he wrote letters to show that the forms and ceremonies of the Romish Christian Church were taken from the degenerate state of the heathen my- thology, as it stood in the latter times of the Greeks and Romans. He attacked without ceremony the miracles which the church pre- tend to perform : and in one of his treatises, he calls the creation a revelation. The priests of England of that day, in order to de- fend their citadel by first defending its out-works, attacked him for attacking the Roman ceremonies ; and one of them censures him for calling the creation a revelation — he thus replies to him : " One of them," says he, " appears to be scandalized by the title of revelation which I have given to that discovery which God made of himself in the visible works of his creation. Yet it is no other than what the wise in all ages have given to it, who consider it as the most authentic and indisputable revelation which God has ever given of himself, from the beginning of the world to this day. It was this by which the first notice of him was revealed to the inhabitants of the earth, and by which alone it has been kept up ever since among the several nations of it. From this the reason of man was enabled to trace out his nature and attributes, and, by a gradual deduction of consequences, to learn his own nature also, with all the duties belonging to it, which relate either THE PROPHECIES, 263 to God or to his fellow-creatures. This consultation of things was ordained by God, as an universal law, or rule of conduct to man — the source of all his knowledge — the test of all truth, by which all subsequent revelations which are supposed to have been given by God in any other manner, must be tried, and can- not be received as divine any further than as they are found to tally and coincide with this original standard. " It was this divine law which I referred to in the passage above recited, (meaning the passage on which they had attacked him,) being desirous to excite the readers attention to it, as it would enable him to judge more freely of the argument I was handling. For, by contemplating this law, he would discover the genuine way which God himself has marked out to us for the acquisition of true knowledge ; not from the authority or reports of our fellow-crea- tures, but from the information of the facts and material objects which in his providential distribution of worldly things, he hath presented to the perpetual observation of our senses. For as it was from these that his existence and nature, the most important articles of all knowledge, were first discovered to man, so that grand discovery furnished new light towards tracing out the rest and made all the inferior subjects of human knowledge more easily discoverable to us by the same method. " I had another view likewise in the same passage, and appli cable to the same end, of giving the reader a more enlarged notion of the question in dispute, who, by turning his thoughts to reflect on the works of the Creator, as they are manifested to us in this fabric of the world, could not fail to observe, that they are all of them great, noble, and suitable to the majesty of his nature, carrying with them the proofs of their origin, and showing them- selves to be the production of an all-wise and Almighty being ; and by accustoming his mind to these sublime reflections, he will be prepared to determine, whether those miraculous interpositions so confidently affirmed to us by the primitive fathers, can rea- sonably be thought to make part in the grand scheme of the divine administration, or whether it be agreeable that God, who created all things by his will, and can give what turn to them he pleases by the same will, should, for the particular purposes of his govern- ment and the services of the church, descend to the expedient of visions and revelations, granted sometimes to boys for the instruc- tion of the elders, and sometimes to women to settle the fashion 264 EXAMINATION OF and length of their veils, and sometimes to pastors of the Church, to enjoin them to ordain one man a lecturer, another a priest ; — or that he should scatter a profusion of miracles around the stake of a martyr, yet all of them vain and insignificant, and without any sensible effect, either of preserving the life, or easing the sufferings of the saint ; or even of mortifying his persecutors, who were always left to enjoy the full triumph of their cruelty, and the poor martyr to expire in a miserable death. When these things, I say, are brought to the original test, and compared with the genuine and indisputable works of the Creator, how minute, how trifling, how contemptible must they be ? — and how incredible must it be thought, that for the instruction of his church, God should employ ministers so precarious, unsatisfactory, and inadequate, as the estacies of women and boys, and the visions of interested priests, which were derided at the very time by men of sense to whom they were proposed. " That this universal law (continues Middlcton, meaning the law revealed in the works of the creation) was actually revealed to the heathen world long before the gospel was known, we learn from all the principal sages of antiquity, who made it the capital subject of their studies and writings. " Cicero has given us a short abstract of it in a fragment still -emaining from one of his books on government, which I shall here transcribe in his own words, as they will illustrate my sense also, in the passages that appear so dark and dangerous to my antagonists." " The true law, (.says Cicero,) is right reason conformable to the nature of things, constant, eternal, diffused through all, which calls us to duty by commanding — deters us from sin by forbid- ding ; which never loses its influence with the good, nor ever preserves it with the wicked. This law cannot be over-ruled by any other, nor abrogated in whole or in part ; nor can we be ab- solved from it either by the senate or by the people ; nor are we to seek any other comment or interpreter of it but himself; nor can there be one law at Rome and another at Athens — one now and an- other hereafter : but the same eternal immutable law comprehends all nations at all times, under one common master and governor of all — God. He is the inventor, propounder, enacter of this law ; and whoever will not obey it must first renounce himself and throw off the nature of man ; by doing which, he will suffer THE PKOPHECIES. 265 the greatest punishments, though he should escape all the other torments which are commonly believed to be prepared for the wicked." Here ends the quotation from Cicero. " Our Doctors (contumes Middleton) perhaps will look on this as RANK DEISM ; but let them call it what they will, I shall ever avow and defend it as the fundamental, essential, and vital part of all true religion." Here ends the quotation from Middleton. I have here given the reader two sublime extracts from men who lived in ages of time far remote from each other, but who thought alike. Cicero lived before the time in which they tell us Christ was born. Middleton may be called a man of our own- time, as he lived within the same century with ourselves. In Cicero we see that vast superiority of mind, that sublimity of right reasoning and justness of ideas which man acquires, not by studying Bibles and Testaments, and the theology of schools built thereon, but by studying the Creator in the immensity and un- changeable order of his creation, and the immutability of his law. " There cannot,^' says Cicero, " be one law nou; and another here- after ; hut the same eternal immutable law comprehends all nations^ at all times, under one commonmaster and governor of all — God." But according to the doctrine of schools which priests have set up, we see one law, called the Old Testament, given in one age of the world, and another law, called the New Testament, given in an- other age of the world. As al! this is contradictory to the eternal immutable nature, and the unerring and unchangeable wisdom of God, we must be compelled to hold this doctrine to be false, and the old and the new law, called the Old and the New Testament to be impositions, fables, and forgeries. In Middleton, we see the manly eloquence of an enlarged mind and the genuine sentiments of a true believer in his Creator. In- stead of reposing his faith on books, by whatever name they may De called, wheUier Old Testament or New, he fixes the creation as the great original standard by which every other thing called the the word, or work of God, is to be tried. In this we have an indisputable scale, whereby to measure every word or work im- puted to him. If the thing so imputed carries not in itself the evidence of the same Almightiness of power, of the same unerr- ing truth and wisdom, and the same unchangeable order in all its parts, as are visibly demonstrated to our senses, and inoompre- 34 266 EXAMINATION OF hensible by our reason, in the magnificent fabric of the universe, that word or that work is not of God. Let then the two books called the Old and New Testament be tried by this rule, and the result will be, that the authors of them, whoever they were, will be convicted of forgery. The invariable principles, and unchangeable order, which regu- 'ate the movements of all the parts that compose the universe, demonstrate both to our senses and our reason that its Creator is a God of unerring truth. But the Old Testament, besides the num- berless, absurd, and bagatelle stories it tells of God, represents him as a God of deceit, a God not to be confided in. Ezekiel makes God to say, chap. 14, ver. 9, " And if the prophet be deceived when he hath spoken a thing, I, the Lord have deceived that prophet.'''' And at the 20th chap. ver. 25, he makes God in speaking of the children of Israel to say " Wherefore I gave them statutes that were not good, and judgments hij which they coidd not live.^' This, so far from being the word of God, is horrid blasphemy against him. Reader put thy confidence in thy God, and put no trust in the Bible. The same Old Testament, after telling us that God created the heavens and the earth in six days, makes the same almighty power and eternal wisdom employ itself in giving directions how a priest's garment should be cut, and what sort of stuff they should be made of, and what their offerings should be, gold, and silver, and brass, and blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine linen, and goat's hair, and rams' skins died red, and badger skins, &c. chap. xxv. ver. 3 ; and in one of the pretended prophecies I have just examined, God is made to give directions how they should kill, cook, and eat a he-lamb or a he-goat. And Ezekiel, chap. iv. to fill up the measure of abominable absurdity, makes God to order him to take " wheat, and, barley, and beans, and lentiles, and millet, and fitches^ and make a haf or a cake thereof, and bake it with human dung and eat it ;" but as Ezekiel complained that this mess was too strong for his stomach, the matter was compromised from man's dung to cow dung, Ezekiel, chap. iv. Compare all this ribaldry, blasphemously called the word of God, with the Almighty power that created the universe, and whose eternal wisdom directs and governs all its mighty movements, and we shall be at a loss to find name sufficiently contemptible for it. THE rROPIIECIES. 267 In the promises which the Old Testament pretends that God made to his people, the same derogatory ideas of him prevail. It makes God to promise to Abraham, that his seed should be like the stars in heaven and the sand on the sea shore for multitude, and that he would give them the land of Canaan as their inheri- tance for ever. But observe, reader, how the performance of this promise was to begin, and then ask thine own reason, if the wisdom of God, whose power is equal to his will, could, consistently with that power and that wisdom, make such a promise. The performance of the promise was to begin, according to that book, by four hundred years of bondage and affliction. Genesis, chap. XV. ver. 13. " .y3nd God said unto Mraliam, knoiu of a surety, that thy seed shall be a stranger in a land that is not theirs, and shall serve them, and they shall ajjlict them four hundred years." This promise, then, to Abraham, and his seed for ever, to inherit the land of Canaan, had it been a fact, instead of a fable, was to operate, in the commencement of it, as a curse upon all the people and their children, and their children's children for four hundred years. But the case is, the Book of Genesis was written after the bond- age in Egypt had taken place ; and in order to get rid of the dis- grace of the Lord's chosen people, as they called themselves, be- ing in bondage to the Gentiles, they make God to be the author of it, and annex it as a condition to a pretended promise ; as if God, in making that promise, had exceeded his power in perform- ing it, and consequently his wisdom in making it, and was obliged to compromise with them for one half, and with the Egyptians, to whom they were to be in bondage, for the other half. Without degrading my own reason by bringing those; wretchea and contemptible tales into a comparative view, with the Almighty power and eternal wisdom, which the Creator hath demonstrated to our senses in the creation of the universe, I will confine myself to say, that if we compare them with the divine and forcible senti- ments of Cicero, the result will be, that the human mind has de- generated by believing them. Man in a state of grovelling super- stition, from which he has not courage to rise, looses the energy of his mental powers. I will not tire the reader with more observations on the Old Testament. As to the New Testament, if it be brought and tried by that 26:? EXAMINATION OF standaid tvhich, as Middleton wisely says, God has revealed to our senses of his Almighty power and wisdom in the creation and government of the visible universe, it will be found equally as false, paltry, and absurd, as the Old. Without entering, in this place, into any other argument, that the story of Christ is of human invention, and not of divine ori- gin, I will confine myself to show that it is derogatory to God, by the contrivance of it ; because the means it supposes God to use, are not adequate to the end to be obtained ; and, therefore, are de- rogatory to the Almightiness of his power, and the eternity of his wisdom. The New Testament supposes that God sent his Son upon earth to make a new covenant with man ; which the church calls the covenant of Grace, and to instruct mankind in a new doctrine, which it calls Faith, meaning thereby, not faith in God, for Cicero and all true Deists always had and always w ill have this ; but faith in the person called Jesus Christ, and that whoever had not this faith should, to use the words of the New Testament, be DAMNED. Now, if this were a fact, it is consistent with that attribute of God, called his Goodness, that no time should be lost in letting poor unfortunate man know it ; and as that goodness was united to Almighty power, and that power to Almighty wisdom, all the means existed in the hand of the Creator to make it known imme- diately over the whole earth, in a manner suitable to the Almighti- ness of his divine nature, and with evidence that would not leave man in doubt ; for it is always incumbent upon us, in all cases, to believe that the Almighty always acts, not by imperfect means as imperfect man acts, but consistently with his Almightiness. It is this only that can become the infallible criterion by which we can possibly distinguish the works of God from the works of man. Observe now, reader, how the comparison between this supposed mission of Christ, on the belief or disbelief of which they say man was to be saved or damned — observe, I say, how the com- parison between this and the Almighty power and wisdom of God demonstrated to our senses in the visible creation, goes on. The Old Testament tells us that God created the heavens and the earth, and every thing therein, in six days. The term six days is ridiculous enough when applied to God ; but leaving out that absurdity, it contains the idea of Almighty power acting THE rROPHECIES. 269 unitedl) with Almighty wisdom, to produce an immense work, that of the creation of the universe and every thing therein, in a short time. Now as the eternal salvation of man is of much greater impor- tance than his creation, and as that salvation depends, as the New Testament tells us, on man's knowledge of, and belief in the per- son called Jesus Christ, it necessarily follows from our belief in the goodness and justice of God, and our knowledge of his al- mighty power and wisdom, as demonstrated in the creation, that ALL THIS, if true, would be made known to all parts of the world, in as little time at least, as was employed in making the world. To suppose the Almighty would pay greater regard and attention to the creation and organization of inanimate matter, than he would to the salvation of innumerable millions of souls, which himself had created, " as the image of himself," is to offer an insult to his goodness and his justice. Now observe, reader, how the promulgation of this pretended salvation by a knowledge of, and a belief in Jesus Christ went on, compared with the work of creation. In the first place, it took longer time to make a child than to make the world, for nine months were passed away and totally lost in a state of pregnancy : which is more than forty times longer time than God employed in making the world, according to the Bible account. Secondly ; several years of Christ's life were lost in a state of human infancy. But the universe was in maturity the moment it existed. Thirdly ; Christ, as Luke aserts, was thirty years old before he began to preach what they call his mission. Millions of souls died in the mean time without know- ing it. Fourthly; it was above three hundred years from that time before the book called the New Testament was compiled into a written copy, before which time there was no such book. Fifthly ; it was above a thousand years after that, before it could be circulated ; because neither Jesus nor his apostles had know- ledge of, or were inspired with the art of printing : and, conse- quently, as the means for making it universally known did not exist, the means were not equal to the end, and, therefore, it is not the work of God. I will here subjoin the nineteenth Psalm, which is truly deisti- cal, to show how universally and instantaneously the works ot 270 EXAMINATION OF THE PROPHECIES. God make themselves known, compared with this pretended sal vation by Jesus Christ. Psahn 19th. "The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth his handy work — Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge — There is no speech nor language where their voice is not heard — Their line is gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world. In them hath he set a chamber for the sun. Which is a bridegroom coming out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race — his going forth is from the end of the neaven, and his circuit unto the ends of it, and there is nothing nid from the heat thereof." Now, had the news of salvation by Jesus Christ been inscribed on the face of the Sun and the Moon, in characters that all nations would have understood, the whole earth had known it m twenty- four hours, and all nations would have believed it ; wnereas, though it is now almost two thousand years since, as thev tell us, Christ came upon earth, not a twentieth part of the people of t'ne earth know any thing of it, and among those who do, the wiser part do not believe it. I have now reader gone through all the passages called prophe- cies of Jesus Christ, and shown there is no such thing. I have examined the story told of Jesus Christ, and compared the several circumstances of it with that revelation, which, as Mid- dleton wisely says, God has made to us of his Power and Wisdom in the structure of the universe, and by which every thing ascrib- ed to him is to be tried. The result is, that the story of Christ has not one trait, either in its character, or in the means employed, that bears the least resemblance to the power and wisdom of God, as demonstrated in the creation of the universe. All the means are human means, slow, uncertain, and inadequate to the accom- plishment of the end proposed, and, therefore, the whole is a fabu- lous invention, and undeserving of credit. The priests of the present day, profess to believe it. They gain their living by it, and they exclaim against something they call infidelity. I will define what it is. He that believes in THE STORY OF ChRIST IS AN InfIDEL TO GoD. THOMAS PAINE. APPENDIX. CONTRADICTORY DOCTRINES IN THE :n"ew testament, BETWEEN MATTHEW AND MARK. In the New Testament. Mark, chap, xvi. ver. 16, it is said " He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved ; he that be- lieveth not shall be damned." This is making salvation, or, in other words, the happiness of man after this life, to depend entire- ly on believing, or on what Christians call faith. But the 25th chapter of The Gospel according to JSIatthew makes Jesus Christ to preach a direct contrary doctrine to The Gospel according to JMark ; for it makes salvation, or the future happiness of man, to depend entirely on good ivorks ; and those good works are not works done to God, for he needs them not, but good works done to man. The passage referred to in Matthew is the account there given of what is called the last day, or the day of judgment, where the whole world is represented to be divided into two parts, the right- eous and the unrighteous, mataphorically called the sheep and the goats. To the one part called the righteous, or the sheep, it says, " Come ye blessed of my father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the beginning of the world — for I was an hungered and ye gave me meat — I was thirsty and ye gave me drink — I was a stranger and ye took me in — Naked and ye clothed me — I was sick and ye visited me — I was in prison and ye came unto me." 272 APPENDIX. " Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungered and fed thee, or thirsty and gave thee drink ? TMien saw we thee a stranger and took thee in, or naked and clothed thee ? Or when saw we thee sick and in prison, and came unto thee ? " And the king shall answer and say unto them, verity I say unto you in as much as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." Here is nothing about believing in Christ — nothing about that phantom of the imagination called Faith. The works here spo- ken of, are works of humanity and benevolence, or, in other words, an endeavour to make God's creation happy. Here is nothing about preaching and making long prayers, as if God must be dic- tated to by man ; nor about building churches and meetings, nor hiring priests to pray and preach in them. Here is nothing about predestination, that lust Yvhich some men have for damning one another. Here is nothing about baptism, whether by sprinkling or plunging, nor about any of those ceremonies for which the Christian church has been fighting, persecuting, and burning each other, ever since the Christian church began. If it be asked, why do not priests preach the doctrine contained in this chapter ? The answer is easy ; — they are not fond o» practising it themselves. It does not answer for their trade. They had rather get than give. Charity with them begins ana ends at home. Had it been said, Come ye blessed, ye have been liberal in pay- ing the preachers of the word, ye have contributed largely toioards building churches and meeting-houses, there is not a hired priest in Christendom but would have thundered it continually in the ears of his congregation. But as it is altogether on good works done to men, the priests pass over it in silence, and they will abuse me for bringing it into notice. THOMAS PAINE. > Ml" PRIVATE THOUGHTS ON A FUTURE STATE. I HAVE said, in the first part of the Age of lleason, that " 1 hope for happiness after this life." This hope is comfortable to ine, and I presume not to go beyond the comfortable idea of hope, with respect to a future state. J I consider myself in the hands of my Creator, and that he will dispose of me after this life consistently with his justice and good- ness. I leave all these matters to him, as my Creator and friend, and I hold it to be presumption in man to make an article of faith as to what the Creator will do with us hereafter. I do not believe because a man and a woman make a child, that it imposes on the Creator the unavoidable obligation of keeping the being so made, in eternal existence hereafter. It is in his power to do so, or not to do so, and it is not in our power to de- cide which he will do. The book called the New Testament, which I hold to be fabu- lous and have shown to be false, gives an account in the 25th chapter of Matthew, of what is there called the last day, or the day of judgment. The whole world, according to that account, is divided into two parts, the righteous and the unrighteous, figurative- ly called the sheep and the goats. They are then to receive their sentence. To the one, figuratively called the sheep, it says, • Come ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." To the other, figuratively called the goats, it says, " Depart from me, ye cursed, into ever- lasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." Now the case is, the world cannot be thus divided — the moral world, like the physical world, is composed of numerous degrees of character, running imperceptibly one into the other, in such a 35 274 APPENDIX manner that no fixed point of division can be found in either That point is no where, or is every where. The whole world might be divided into two parts numerically, but not as to moral character ; and, therefore, the metaphor of dividing them, as sheep and goats can be divided, whose difference is marked by their ex- ternal figure, is absurd. All sheep are still sheep ; all goats are still goats ; it is their physical nature to be so. But one part of the world are not all good alike, nor the other part all wicked alike. There are some exceedingly good ; others exceedingly wicked. There is another description of men who cannot be ranked with either the one or the other — they belong neither to the sheep nor the goats. My own opinion is, that those whose lives have been spent in doing good, and endeavouring to make their fellow-mortals happy, for this is the only way in which we can serve God, loill he happy hereafter : and that the very wicked will meet with some punish- ment. This is my opinion. It is consistent with my idea o' God's justice, and with the reason that God has given me. THOMAS PAINE. EXTRACT FROM A REPL^ BISHOP OF LLANDAFF ^=.e4<,« [This extract from Mr. Pain's reply to Watson, Bishop of LlandafF, was given by him, not long before his death, to Mrs. Palmer, widow of Elihu Pal- mer. He retained the work entire, and, therefore, must have transcribed this part, wliich was unusual for )iim to do. Probably he had discovered errors, which he corrected in the copy. Mrs. Palmer presented it to the editor of a periodical work, entitled the Theopliilanthropist, published in New- York, in wliich it appeared m 1810.] GENESIS. The bishop says, " the oldest book in the world is Genesis." This is mere assertion ; he offers no proof of it, and I go to con- trovert it, and to show that the book of Job, which is not a Hebrew book, but is a book of the Gentiles, translated into Hebrew, is much older than the book of Genesis. The book of Genesis means the book of Generations ; to which are prefixed two chapters, the first and second, which contain two different cosmoganies, that is, two different accounts of the creation of the world, written by different persons, as I have shown in the preceding part of this work.* The first cosmogany begins at the first verse of the first chap- ter, and ends at the end of the third verse of the second chapter ; for the adverbial conjunction this, with which the second chapter begins, shows those three verses to belong to the first chapter. The second cosmogany begins at the fourth verse of the second chapter, and ends with that chapter. In the first cosmogany the name of God is used, without any * See Letter to Erskine, page J65. 276 REPLY TO THE BISHOP. epithet joined to it, and is repeated thirty-five times. Ir\ the second cosmogany it is always the Lord God, which is repeated eleven times. These two different styles of expression show these two chapters to be the work of two different persons, and the contra- dictions they contain, show they cannot be the work of one and the same person, as I have already shown. The third chapter, in which the style of Lord God is continued in every instance, except in the supposed conversation between the woman and the serpent (for in every place in that chapter where the writer speaks, it is always the Lord God) shows this chapter to belong to the second cosmogany. This chapter gives an account of what is called the fall of man, which is no other than a fable borrowed from, and constructed upon the religion of Zoroaster, or the Persians, or the annual pro- gress of the sun through the twelve signs of the Zodiac. It is the fall of the year, the approach and evil of winter, announced by the ascension of the autumnal constellation of the serpent of the Zodi- ac, and not the moral fall of man that is the key of the allegory, and of the fable in Genesis borrowed from it. The fall of man in Genesis, is said to have been produced by eating a certain fruit, generally taken to be an apple. The fall of the year is the season for the gathering and eating the new apples of that year. The allegory, therefore, holds with respect to the fruit, which it would not have done had it been an early summer fruit It holds also with respect to place. The tree is said to have been placed in the midst of the garden. But why in the midst of the garden more than in any other place \ The situation of the allegory gives the answer to this question, which is, that the fall of the year, when apples and other autumnal fruits are rrpe, and when days and nights are of equal length, is the mid-season between summer and winter. It holds also with respect to clothing, and the temperature of the air. It is said in Genesis, chap. iii. ver. 21. " Unto Adam and his wife did the Lord God make coats of skiiis and clothed themy But why are coats of skins mentioned 1 This cannot be understood as referring to any thing of the nature of moral evil. The solution of the allegory gives again the answer to this ques- tion, which is, that the evil ofivinter, which follows the fall of the year, fabulously called in Genesis the fall of man, makes warnft clothing necessary. OF LI.ANDAFF. 277 But of these things I shall speak fully when I comfc in another part to treat of the ancient religion of the Persians, and compare it with the modern religion of the New Testament.* At present, I shall confine myself to the comparative antiquity of the books of Genesis and Job, taking, at the same time, whatever I may find in my way with respect to the fabulousness of the book of Genesis ; for if what is called the fall of man, in Genesis, be fabulous or alle- gorical, that which is called the redemption, in the New Testament, cannot be a fact. It is morally impossible, and impossible also in the nature of things, that moral good can redeem physical evil. I return to the bishop. If Genesis be, as the bishop asserts, the oldest book in the world, and, consequently, the oldest and first written book of the Bible, and if the extraordinary things related in it, such as the cre- ation of the world in six days, the tree of life, and of good and evil, the story of Eve and the talking serpent, the fall of man and his being turned out of Paradise, were facts, or even believed by the Jews to be facts, they would be referred to as fundamental matters, and that very frequently, in the books of the. Bible that were written by various authors afterwards ; whereas, there is not a book, chapter, or verse of the Bible, from the time Moses is said to have written the book of Genesis, to the book of Malachi, the last book in the Bible, including a space of more than a thou- sand years, in which there is any mention made of these things, or any of them, nor are they so much as alluded to. How will the bishop solve this difficulty, which stands as a circumstantial contradiction to his assertion 1 There are but two ways of solving it : First, that the book of Genesis is not an ancient book ; that it has been written by some (now) unknown person, after the return of the Jews from the Babylonian captivity, about a thousand years after the time that Moses is said to have lived, and put as a pre- face or introduction to the other books, when they were formed into a cannon in the time of the second temple, and, therefore, not having existed before that time, none of these things mentioned m it could be referred to in those books. Secondly, that admitting Genesis to have been written by Moses, the Jews did not believe the things stated in it to be true, and, therefore as they could not refer to them as facts, they would * Not published. 273 REPLY TO THE BISHOP not refer to them as fables. The first of these solutions goes against the antiquity of the book, and the second against its au- thenticity, and the bishop may take which he pleases. But, be the author of Genesis whoever he may, there is abun- dant evidence to show, as well from the early Christian writers, as from the Jews themselves, that the things stated in that book were not believed to be facts. Why they have been believed as facts since that time, when better and fuller knowledge existed on the case, than is known now, can be accounted for only on the impo- sition of priestcraft. Augustine, one of the early champions of the Christian church, acknowledges in his City of God, that the adventure of Eve and the serpent, and the account of Paradise, were generally consider- ed as fiction, or allegory. He regards them as allegory himself, without attempting to give any explanation, but he supposes that a better explanation might be found than those that had been offered. Origen, another early champion of the church, says, " What man of good sense can ever persuade himself that there were a first, a second, and a third day, and that each of these days had a night when there were yet neither sun, moon, nor stars. What man can be stupid enough to believe that God acting the part of a gardener, had planted a garden in the east, that the tree of life was a real tree, and that its fruit had the virtue of making those who eat of it live for ever V Marmonides, one of the most learned and celebrated of the Jewish Rabbins, who lived in the eleventh century (about seven or eight hundred years ago) and to whom the bishop refers in his answer to me, is very explicit, in his book entitled More JYeba- chim, upon the non-reality of the things stated in the account of the Creation in the book of Genesis. " We ought not (says he) to understand, nor take according to the letter, that which is written in the book of the Creation, nor to have the same ideas of it with common men ; otherwise, our an- cient sages would not have recommended, with so much care, to conceal the sense of it, and not to raise the allegorical veil which envelopes the truths it contains. The book of Genesis, taken ac- cording to the letter, gives the most absurd and the most extrava gant ideas of the Divinity. Whoever shall find out the sense of it, ought to restrain himself from divulging it. It is a maxim OF LLANDAFF. 279 which all our sages repeat, and above all with respect to the work of six days. It may happen that some one, with the aid he may borrow from others, may hit upon the meaning of it. In that case he ought to impose silence upon himself; or if he speak of it, he ought to speak obscurely, and in an enigmatical manner, as I do myself, leaving the rest to be found out by those who can under- stand." This is, certainly, a very extraordinary declaration of Marmon- ides, taking all the parts of it. First, he declares, that the account of the Creation in the book of Genesis is not a fact ; that to believe it to be a fact, gives the most absurd and the most extravagant ideas of the Divinity. Secondly, that it is an allegory. Thirdly, that the allegory has a concealed secret. Fourthly, that whoever can find the secret ought not to tell it. It is this last part that is the most extraordinary. Why all this care of the Jewish Rabbins, to prevent what they call the conceal- ed meaning, or the secret, from being known, and, if known, to prevent any of their people from telling it 1 It certainly must be something which the Jewish nation are afraid or ashamed the world should know. It must be something personal to them as a peo- ple, and not a secret of a divine nature, which the more it is known, the more it increases the glory of the Creator, and the gratitude and happiness of man. It is not God's secret, but their own, they are keeping. I go to unveil the secret. The case is, the Jews have stolen their cosmogany, that is, their account of the Creation, from the cosmogany of the Persians, contained in the book of Zoroaster, the Persian lawgiver, and brought it with them when they returned from captivity by the be- nevolence of Cyrus, King of Persia ; for it is evident, from the silence of all the books of the Bible upon the subject of the Crea- tion, that the Jews had no cosmogany before that time. If they had a cosmogany from the time of Moses, some of their judges who governed during more than four hundred years, or of their kings, the Davids and Solomons of their day, who governed nearly fiv hundred years, or of their prophets and psalmists, who lived m the mean time, would have mentioned it. It would, either as fact or fable, have been the grandest of all subjects for a psalm. It would have suited to a tittle the ranting, poetical genius of Isaiah, or served as a cordial to the gloomy Jeremiah. But not 2S0 REPLY TO THE BISHOP one word nor even a whisper, does any of the Bible authors give upon the subject. To conceal the theft, the Rabbins*bf the second temple have Dublished Genesis as a book of Moses, and have enjoined secresy to all their people, who, by travelling, or otherwise, might happen to discover from whence the cosmogany was borrowed, not to tell it. The evidence of circumstances is often unanswerable, and there is no other than this which I have given, that goes to the whole ol the case, and this does. Diogenes Laertius, an ancient and respectable author, whom the Bishop, in his answer to me, quotes on another occasion, has a passage that corresponds with the solution here given. In speak- ing of the religion of the Persians, as promulgated by their priests or magi, he says, the Jewish Rabbins were the successors of their doctrine. Having thus spoken on the plagarism, and on the non- reality of the book of Genesis, I will give some additional evi- dence that Moses is not the author of that book. Eben-Ezra, a celebrated Jewish author, who lived about seven hundred years ago, and whom the bishop allows to have been a man of great erudition, has made a great many observations, too numerous to be repeated here, to show that Moses was not, and could not be, the author of the book of Genesis, nor any of the five books that bear his name. Spinosa, another learned Jew, who lived about a hundred and thirty years ago, recites, in his treatise on the ceremonies of the Jews, ancient and modern, the observations of Eben-Ezra, to which he adds many others, to show that Moses is not the author of these books. He also says, and shows his reasons for saying it, that the Bible did not exist as a book, till the time of the Mac- cabees, which was more than a hundred years after the return of the Jews from the Babylonian captivity. In the second part of the Age of Reason, I have, among other things, referred to nine verses in the 36th chapter of Genesis, be- ginning at the 31st verse, " These are the kings that reigned in Edom, before there reigned any king over the children of Israel," which it is impossible could have been written by Moses, or in the time of Moses, and could not have been written till after the Jew kings began to reign in Israel, which was not till several hundred years after the time of Moses. The bishop allows this, and says " I think you say true." But OF LLANDAFF. 28"'. he then quibbles, and says, that a small addition to a book does not destroy either the genuineness or authenticity of the whole book This is priestcraft. These verses do not stand in the book as an addition to it, but as making a part of the whole book, and which it is impossible that Moses could write. The bishop would rejec ■ the antiquity of any other book if it could be proved from the words of the book itself that a part of it could not have been writ- ten till several hundred years after the reputed author of it was dead. He would call such a book a forgery. I am authorised, therefore, to call the book of Genesis a forgery. Combining, then, all the foregoing circumstances together re- specting the antiquity and authenticity of the book of Genesis, a conclusion will naturally follow therefrom ; those circumstances are, First, that certain parts of the book cannot possibly have been written by Moses, and that the other parts carry no evidence of having been written by him. Secondly, the universal silence of all the following books of the Bible, for about a thousand years, upon the extraordinary things spoken of in Genesis, such as the creation of the world in six days — the garden of Eden — the tree of knowledge — the tree of life — the story of Eve and the serpent — the fall of man, and his being turned out of this fine garden, together with Noah's flood, and the tower of Babel. Thirdly, the silence of all the books of the Bible upon even the name of Moses, from the book of Joshua until the second book of Kings, which was not written till after the captivity, for it gives an account of the captivity, a period of about a thousand years. Strange that a man who is proclaimed as the historian of the Cre- ation, the privy-counsellor and confident of the Almighty — the legislator of the Jewish nation, and the founder of its religion ; strange, I say, that even the name of such a man should not find a place in their books for a thousand years, if they knew or believed any thing about him, or the books he is said to have written. Fourthly, the opinion of some of the most celebrated of the Jew- ish commentators, that Moses is not the author of the book of Genesis, founded on the reasons given for that opinion. Fifthly, the opinion of the early Christian writers, and of the great champion of Jewish literature, Marmonides, that the book of Genesis is not a book of facts. 36 282 REPLY TO THE BISHOP Sixthly, the silence imposed by all the Jewish Rabbins, and by Marmonides himself, upon the Jewish nation, not to speak of any thing they may happen to know, or discover, respecting the cos- mogany (or creation of the w^orld) in the book of Genesis. From these circumstances the following conclusions offer — First, that the book of Genesis is not a book of facts. Secondly, that as no mention is made throughout the Bible of any of the extraordinary things related in Genesis, that it has not been written till after the other books were written, and put as a preface to the Bible. Every one knows that a preface to a book, though it stands first, is the last written. Thirdly, that the silence imposed by all the Jewish Rabbins, and by Marmonides upon the Jewish nation, to keep silence upon every thing related in their cosmogany, evinces a secret, they are not willing should be known. The secret, therefore, explains itself to be, that when the Jews were in captivity in Babylon and Persia, they became acquainted with the cosmogany of the Persians, as registered in the Zend-Avesta, of Zoroaster, the Persian lawgiver, which, after their return from captivity, they manufactered and modelled as their own, and anti-dated it by giv- ing to it the name of Moses. The case admits of no other ex- planation. From all which it appears that the book of Genesis, instead of being the oldest book in the iuorhl, as the bishop calls it, has been the last written book of the Bible, and that the cos- mogany it contains, has been manufactured. On the iVames in the Book of Genesis. Every thing in Genesis serves as evidence or symptom, that the Dook has been composed in some late period of the Jewish nation. Even the names mentioned in it serve to this purpose- Nothing is more common or more natural, than to name the children of succeeding generations, after the names of those who had been celebrated in some former generation. This holds good with respect to all the people, and all the histories we know of, and it does not hold good with the Bible. There must be some cause for this. This book of Genesis tells us of a man whom it calls Adam, and of his sons Abel and Seth ; of Enoch, who lived 365 years (it is exactly the number of days in a year,) and that then God took OF LLANDAFF. 283 him up. It has the appearance of being tf^ken from some allegory of the Gentiles on the commencement and termination of the year, by the progress of the sun through the twelve signs of the Zodiac, on which the allegorical religion of the Gentiles was founded. It tells us of Methuselah who lived 969 years, and of a long train of other names in the fifth chapter. It then passes on to a man whom it calls Noah, and his sons, Shem, Ham, and Japhet : then to Lot, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and his sons, with which the book of Genesis finishes. All these, according to the account given in that book, were the most extraordinary and celebrated of men. They were, more- over, heads of families. Adam was the father of the world. Enoch, for his righteousness, was taken up to heaven. Methuse- lah lived to almost a thousand years. He was the son of Enoch, the man of 365, the number of days in a year. It has the ap- pearance of being the continuation of an allegory on the 365 days of a year, and its abundant productions. Noah was selected from all the world to be preserved when it was drowned, and became the second father of the world. Abraham was the father of the faithful multitude. Isaac and Jacob were the inheritors of his fame, and the last was the father of the twelve tribes. Now, if these very wonderful men and their names, and the book that records them, had been known by the Jews, before the Babylonian captivity, those names would have been as common among the Jews before that period as they have been since. We now hear of thousands of Abrahams, Isaacs, and Jacobs among the Jews, but there were none of that name before the Babylonian captivity. The Bible does not mention one, though from the time that Abraham is said to have lived, to the time of the Babylonian captivity, is about 1400 years. How is it to be accounted for, that there have been so many thousands, and perhaps hundreds of thousands of Jews of the names of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob since that period, and not one before 1 It can be accounted for but one way, which is that before the Babylonian captivity, the Jews had no such books as Genesis, nor knew any thing of the names and persons it mentions nor of the things it relates, and that the stories in It have been manufactured since that time. From the Arabic 284 REPLY TO THE BISHOP name Ibrahim (which is the manner the Turks write that name to this day) the Jews have rrost probably manufactured their Abraham. I will advance my observations a point further, and speak of the names of JSIoses and Aaron, mentioned for the first time in the book of Exodus. There are now, and have continued to be from the time of the Babylonian captivity, or soon after it, thousands of Jews of the names of JMoses and Aaron, and we read not of any of that name before that time. The Bible does not mention one. The direct inference from this is, that the Jews knew of no such book as Exodus, before the Babylonian captivity. In fact, that it did not exist before that time, and that it is only since the book has been invented, that the names o^ JMoses and Aaron have been common among the Jews. It is applicable to the purpose, to observe, that the picturesque work, called Mosaic-worh, spelled the same as you would say the JMosaic account of the creation, is not derived from the word JMoses but from JMuses, (the JMuses,) because of the variegated and picturesque pavement in the temples dedicated to the JMuses. This carries a strong implication that the name JMoses is drawn from the same source, and that he is not a real but an allegorical person, as Marmonides describes what is called the J\lGsaic ac- count of the Creation to be. I will go a point still further. The Jews now know the book of Genesis, and the names of all the persons mentioned in the first ten chapters of that book, from Adam to Noah : yet we do not hear (I speak for myself) of any Jew of the present day, of the name of Adam, Abel, Seth, Enoch, Methuselah, Noah,* Shem, Ham, or Japhet, (names mentioned in the first ten chapters,) though these were, according to the account in that book, the most ex- traordinary of all the names that make up the catalogue of the Jewish chronology. The names the Jews now adopt, are those that are mentioned in Genesis after the tenth chapter, as Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, &c. How then does it happen, that they do not adopt the names found in the first ten chapters ? Here is evidently a line of division drawn between the first ten chapters of Genesis, and the temain- ing chapters, with respect to the adoption of names. There * Noah is an exception ; there are of that name among the Jews. — Editor OF LLANDAFF. 285 must be some cause for this, and I go to offer a solution of the problem. The reader will recollect the quotation I have already made from the Jewish Rabbin, IMarmonides, wherein he says, *' We ought not to understand nor to take according to the letter tha which is written in the book of the Creation. It is a maxim (says he) which all our sages repeat above all, with respect to the work of six days." The qualifying expression above all, implies there are other parts of the book, though not so important, that ought not to be understood or taken according to the letter, and as the Jews do not adopt the names mentioned in the first ten chapters, it appears evident those chapters are included in the injunction not to take them in a literal sense, or according to the letter ; from which it follows, that the persons or characters mentioned in the first ten chapters, as Adam, Abel, Seth, Enoch, Methuselah, and so on to Noah, are not real but fictitious or allegorical persons, and, there- fore, the Jews do not adopt their names into their families. If they affixed the same idea of reality to them as they do to those that follow after the tenth chapter, the names of Adam, Abel, Seth, &c. would be as common among the Jews of the present day, as are those of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses and Aaron. In the superstition they have been in, scarcely a Jew family would have been without an Enoch, as a presage of his going to heaven as ambassador for the whole family. Every mother who wished that" the claijs of her son might be long in the land would call him J[Iethuselah ; and all the Jews that might have to traverse the ocean would be named Noah, as a charm against shipwreck and drowning. This is domestic evidence against the book of Genesis, which joined to the several kinds of evidence before recited, show the book of Genesis not to be older than the Babylonian captivity, and to be fictitious. I proceed to fix the character and antiquity of the book of JOB. The book of Job has not the least appearance of being a book of the Jews, and though printed among the books of the Bible, does not belong to it. There is no reference in it to any Jewish 286 REPLY TO THE BISHOP law or ceremony. On the contrary, all the internal evidence i- contains shows it to be a book of the Gentiles, either of Persia or Chaldea. The name of Job does not appear to be a Jewish name. There is no Jew of that name in any of the books of the Bible neither is there now that I ever heard of. The country where Job is said or supposed to have lived, or rather where the scene of the drama is laid, is called Uz, and there was no place of that name ever belonging to the Jews. If Uz is the same as Ur, it was in Chaldea, the country of the Gentiles. The Jews can give no account how they came by this book, noi who was the author, nor the time when it was written. Origen, in his work against Celsus, (in the first ages of the Christian church,) says, that the booh of Job is older than JMoses. Eben-Ezra, the Jewish commentator, whom (as I have before said) the bishop al- lows to have been a man of great erudition, and who certainly understood his own language, says, that the book of Job has been translated from another language into Hebrew. Spinosa, another Jewish commentator of great learning, confirms the opinion of Eben-Ezra, and says moreover, " Je crois que Job etait Gentie ;* I believe that Job was a Gentile. The bishop, (in his answer to me,) says, " that the structure of the whole book of Job, in whatever light of history or drama it be considered, is founded on the belief that prevailed with the Per- sians and Chaldeans, and other Gentile nations, of a good and an evil spirit." In speaking of the good and evil spirit of the Persians, the bishop writes them Arimanius and Oromasdes. I will not dis- pute about the orthography, because I know that translated names are differently spelled in different languages. But he has never- theless made a capital error. He has put the Devil first ; for Arimanius, or, as it is more generally written, Miriman, is the evil spirit, and Oromasdes or Ornntsd the good spirit. He has made the same mistake in the same paragraph, in speaking of the good and evil spirit of the ancient Egyptians Osiris and Tijpho, he puts Typho before Osiris. The error is just the same as if the bishop in writing about the Christian religion, or in preaching a sermon, were to say the Devil and God. A priest ought to know * Soinosa on the ceremonies of the Jews, page 296, published in French at Amsterdam, 1678. OF LLANDAFF. 287 nis own trade better. We agree, however, about the struc^Jre of the book of Job, that it is Gentile. I have said in the second part of the Age of Reason, and given my reasons for it, that the drama of it is not Hebreiv. From the testimonies I have cited, that of Origen, who, about fourteen hundred years ago, said that the book of Job was more ancient than Moses, that of Eben-Ezra, who, in his commentary on Job, says, it has been translated from another language (and consequently from a Gentile language) into Hebrew ; that of Spinosa, who not only says the same thing, but that the author of it was a Gentile ; and that of the bishop, who says that the structure of the whole book is Gentile. It follows then in the first place, that the book of Job is not a book of the Jews originally. Then, in order to determine to what people qr nation any book of religion belongs, we must compare it with the leading dogmas and precepts of that people or nation ; and, therefore, upon the bishop's own construction, the book of Job belongs either to the ancient Persians, the Chaldeans, or the Egyptians ; because the structure of it is consistent with the dogma they held, that of a good and evil spnit, called in Job, God and Satan, existing as distinct and separate beings, and it is not consistent with any dogma of the Jews. The belief of a good and an evil spirit, existing as distinct and separate beings, is not a dogma to be found in any of the books of the Bible. It is not till we come to the New Testament that we hear of any such dogma. There the person called the Son of God, holds conversation with Satan on a mountain, as familiarly as is represented in the drama of Job. Consequently the bishop cannot say, in this respect, that the New Testament is founded upon the Old. According to the Old, the God of the Jews was' the God of every thing. All good and evil came from him. Ac- cording to Exodus it was God, and not the Devil, that hardened Pharoah's heart. According to the book of Samuel, it M'as an evil spirit from God that troubled Saul. And Ezekiel makes God to say, in speaking of the Jews, '^ I gave them the statutes that were not good, and judgments by which they shoidd not live.^* The Bible describes the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in such a contradictory manner, and under such a two fold character, there would be no knowing when he was in earnest and when in - And lie, and swear de lie is right. I'll CO to mass as soon as ever I get to toder side de river. So help me out, dow Christian friend, Dat I may do as I intend.'''' Perhaps you do intend to cheat, If once you get upon your feet. " No, no, I do intend to be A Christian, such a one as dee." For, thought the Jew, he is as much A Christian man as I am such. The bigot Papist joyful hearted To hear the heretic converted. Replied to the designing Jew, This was a happy fall for you: You'd better die a Christian now, For if you live you'll break your vow. Then said no more, but in a trice Popp'd Mordecai beneath the ice. ATLANTICUS. MISCELLANEOUS. CASE OF THE OFFICERS OF EXCISE; WITH RE- MARKS ON THE QUALIFICATIONS OF OFFICERS, AND ON THE NUMEROUS EVILS ARISING TO THE REVENUE, FROM THE INSUFFICIENCY OF THE PRESExNT SALARY: HUxMBLY ADDRESSED TO THE MEMBERS OF BOTH HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. Introduction. As a design among the Excise officers throughout the kingdom is on foot, for an humble application to parliament next session, to have the state of their salaries taken into consideration ; it has been judged not only expedient, but highly necessary, to present a state of their case, previous to the presentation of their petition. There are some cases so singularly reasonable, that the more they are considered, the more weight they obtain. It is a strong evidence both of simplicity and honest confidence, when petitioners in any case ground their hopes of relief on having their case fully and perfectly known and understood. Simple as this subject may appear at first, it is a matter, in my humble opinion, not unworthy a parliamentary attention. It is a subject interwoven with a variety of reasons from different causes. New matter will arise on every thought. If the poverty of the officers of Excise, if the temptations arising from their poverty, if the qualifications of persons to he admitted into employment, if the security of the revenue itself, are matters of any weight, then I am conscious that my voluntary services in this business, will pro- duce some good effect or other, either to the better security of the revenue, the relief of the officers, or both. When a year's salary is mentioned in the gross, it acquires a degree of consequence from its sound, which it would not if sepa- rated into daily payments, and if the charges attending the receiving, 4 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. and other unavoidable expenses were considered with it. Fiftj pounds a year, and one shilling and nine pence farthing a day, carry as different degrees of significancy with them, as my Lord's steward, and the steward's laborer ; and yet an outride officer in the Excise, under the name of fifty pounds a year, receives for himself no more than one shilling and nine pence farthing a da}'. After tax, charity, and sitting expenses are deducted, there re- mains very little more than forty-six pounds ; and the expenses of horse keeping, in many places, cannot be brought under fourteen pounds a year, besides the purchase at first, and the hazard of life, which reduces it to thirty-two pounds per annum, or one shilling and nine pence farthing a day. I have spoken more particularly of the outrides, as they arc by far the most numerous, being in proportion to tlie foot walk as eight is to five throughout the kingdom. Yet in the latter, the same misfortunes exist ; the channel of them only is altered. The excessive dearness of house rent, the great burthen of rates and taxes, and the excessive price of all necessaries of life, in cities and large trading towns, nearly counterbalances the expenses of horse keeping. Every office has its stages of promotions, but the pecu- niary advantages arising from a foot walk are so inconsiderable, and the loss of disposing of effects, or the charges of removing them to any considerable distance, so great, that many outride offi- cers with a family remain as they are, from an inability to bear the loss, or support the expense. The officers resident in the cities of London and Westminster, are exempt from the particular disadvantages of removals. This seems to be the only circumstance which they enjoy superior to their country brethren. In every other respect they lie under the same hardships, and suffer the same distresses. There are no perquisites or advantages in the least annexed to the employment. A few officers who are stationed along the coast, may sometimes have the good fortune to fall in with a seizure of contraband goods, and that frequently at the hazard of their lives: but the inland officers can have no such opportunities. Besides, the surveying duty in the excise it is so continual, that without remissness from the real business itself,- there is no time to seek after them. With the officers of the customs it is quite otherwise, their whole time and care being appropriated to that service, and their profits are in proportion to their vigilance. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 5 If the increase of money in the kingdom is one canse of the high price of provisions, the case of tlie Excise officers is peculiarly pitia- ble. No increase comes to them — they are shut out from the gene- ral blessing — they behold it like a map of Peru. The answer of Abraham to Dives is somewhat applicable to them, " There is a great gulf Jixed." To the wealthy and humane, it is a matter worthy of concern, that their affluence should become the misfortune of others. Were the money in the kingdom to be increased double, the salary would in value be reduced one half. Every step upwards, is a step downwards with them. Not to be partakers of the increase would be a little hard, but to be sufferers by it exceedingly so. The me- chanic and the laborer may in a great measure ward off the distress, by raising the price of their manufactures or their work, but the situation of the officers admit of no such relief, AnotlKir consideration in their behalf, (and which is peculiar to the Excise,) is, that as the law of their office removes them far from their natural friends and relations, it consequently prevents those occasional assistances from them, which are serviceably felt in a family, and which even the poorest, among the poor, enjoys. Most poor mechanics, or even common laborers, have some rela tions or friends, who. either out of benevolence Oi' pride, keep their children from nakedness, supply them occasionally with perhaps half a hog, a load of wood, a chaldron of coals, or something or other, which abates the severity of their distress; and yet those men thus relieved, will frequently earn more than the daily pay of an Excise officer. Perhaps an officer will appear more reputable with the same pay, than a mechanic or laborer. The difference arises from sentiment, not circumstances. A something like reputable pride makes all the distinction, and the thinking part of mankind well knows, that none suffer so much as they who endeavor to conceal their neces- sities. The frequent removals which unavoidably happen in the Excise, are attended with such an expense, especially where there is a family, as few officers are able to support. About two years ago, an officer with a family, under orders for removing, and rather embarrassed in circumstances, made his application to me, and from a conviction of his distress, I advanced a small sum, to enable him to proceed. He ingenuously declared, that without the assist- b MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. ance of some friend, he should be driven to do injustice to his creditors, and compelled to desert the duty of his office. He has since honestly paid me, and does as well as the narrowness of such circumstances can admit of. There is one general allowed truth, which will always operate in their favor ; which is, that no set of men, under his Majesty, earn their salary with any comparison of labor and fatigue, with that of the officers of Excise. The station may rather be called a seat of constant work, than either a place or an employment. Even in the different departments of the general revenue, they are un- equalled in the burthen of business ; a riding officer's place in the customs, whose salary is sixty pounds a year, is ease to theirs ; and the work in the window light duty, compared with the Excise, is lightness itself; yet their salary is subject to no tax, they receive forty-nine pounds twelve shillings and six pence, without deduction. The inconveniences which affect an Excise officer, are almost endless ; even the land tax assessment upon their salaries, which, though the government pays, falls often with hardship upon them. The place of their residence, on account of the land tax, has, in many instances, created frequent contentions between parishes, in which tlie oflicer, though the innocent and unconcerned cause f the quarrel, has been the greater sufferer. To point out particularly the impossibility of an Excise officer supporting himself and famil}', with any proper degree of credit and reputation, on so scanty a pittance, is altogether unnecessary. The times, the voice of general want, are proofs themselves. Where facts are sufficient, arguments are useless ; and the hints which I have produced, are such as affect the officers of Excise differently to any other set of men. A single man may barely live ; but as it is not the design of the legislature, or the Hon. Board of Excise, to impose a state of celibacy on them, the con dition of much the gi-eater part is truly wretched and pitiable. Perhaps it may be said, why do the Excise officers complain ? They are not pressed into the service, and may relinquish it when they please ; if they can mend themselves wh}' don't the}' 1 Alas ! what a mockery of pity would it be, to give such an answer to an honest, faithful, old officer in the Excise, who had spent the prime of his life in the service, and was become unfit for any thing else ! The time limited for an admission into an Excise employment, is between twenty-one and thirty years of age, the very flower of MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 7 life. Every other hope and consideration are then given up, and the chance of establishing themselves in any other business, be- comes in a few years not only lost to them, but they become lost to it. " TTiere is a tide in the affairs ofmen^ which if embraced^ leads on to fortune — that neglected, all beyond is misery or want,'''' When we consider how few in the Excise arrive at any com- fortable eminence, and the date of life when such promotions only can happen, the great hazard there is of ill, rather than good for- tune in the attempt, and that all the years antecedent to that is a state of mere existence, wherein they are shut out from the common chance of success in any other way : a reply like that can be only a derision of their Avants. It is almost impossible, after any long continuance in the Excise, that they can live any other way. Such as are of trades, would have their trades to learn over again ; and people would have but little opinion of their abilities in any calling, who had been ten, fifteen, or twenty years absent from it. Every year's experience gained in the Excise, is a year's experience lost in trade ; and by the time they become wise oflScers, they be- come foolish workmen. Were the reasons for augmenting the salary grounded only on the charitableness of so doing, they would have great weight with the compassionate. But there are auxiliaries of such a powerful cast, that in the opinion of policy, they obtain the rank of originals. The first is truly the case of the officers, but this is rather the case of the revenue. The distresses in the Excise are so generally known, that num- bers of gentlemen, and other inhabitants in places where officers are resident, have generously and humanely recommended their case to the members of the hon. house of commons: and numbers of traders of opulence and reputation, well knowing that the poverty of an officer may subject him to the fraudulent designs of some selfish persons under his survey, to the great injury of the fair trader, and trade in general, have, from principles of generosity and justice, joined in the same recommendation. 8 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. Thoughts on the corruption of principles, and on the numerous evils arising to the revenue, from the too great poverty of ike officers of Excise. It has always been the wisdom of government, to consider the situation and circumstances of persons in trust. Why are large salaries given in many instances, but to proportion it to the trust, to set men above temptation, and to make it even literally worth their while to be honest? The salaries of the judges have been augmented, and their places made independent even of the crown itself, for the above wise purposes. Certainly there can be nothing unreasonable in supposing there is such an instinct as frailty among the officers of Excise, in common with the rest of mankind ; and that the most effectual method to keep men honest is to enable them to live so. The tenderness of conscience is too often overmatched by tne sharpness of want; and principle, like charity, yields with just reluctance enough to excuse itself. There is a powerful rhetoric m necessity, which exceeds even a Dunning or a Wedderburne. No argument can satisfy the feelings of hunger, or abate the edge of appetite. Nothing tends to a greater corruption of manners and principles, than a too great distress of circumstances ; and the corruption is of that kind, that it spreads a plaster for itself: like a viper, it carries a cure, though a false one, for its own poison. Agur, without any alternative, has made dishonesty the immediate conse- quence of poverty, " Lest I be poor and steal." A very little degree of that dangerous kind of philosophy, which is the almost certain effect of involuntary poverty, will teach men to believe, that to starve is more criminal than to steal, by as much as every species of self murder exceeds every other crime ; that true honesty is sentimental, and the practice of it dependent upon circumstances. If the gay find it difficult to resist the allurements of pleasure, the great the temptations of ambition, or the miser the acquisition of wealth, how much stronger are the provocations of want and po- verty? The excitements to pleasure, grandeur, or riches, are mere " shadows of a shade," compared to the irresistible necessities of nature. " Not to be led into temptation," is the prayer of divinity itself; and to guard against, or rather to prevent, such insnaring situations, is one of the greatest heights of human prudence: in private life it is partly religious; and in a revenue sense, it is truly political. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 3 The rich, in ease and affluence, may tliink I have drawn an un- natural portrait; but could they descend to the cold regions of want, the circle of polar poverty, they would find their opinions changing with the climate. There are habits of thinking peculiar to different conditions, and to find them out is truly to study man- kind. That the situation of an Excise officer is of this dangerous kind, must be allowed by every one who will consider the trust unavoid- ably reposed in him, and compare the narrowness of his circum- stances with the hardship of the times. If the salary was judged competent an hundred years ago, it cannot be so now. Should it be advanced, that if the present set of officers are dissatisfied whh the salary, that enow may be procured, not only for the present salary, but for less ; the answer is extremely easy. The question needs only to be put ; it destroys itself. Were two or three thou- sand men to offer to execute the office without any salary, would the goverimient accept them ? No. Were the same number to offer the same service for a salary less than can possibly support them, would the government accept them 1 Certainly not ; for while nature, in spite of law or religion, makes it a ruling principle not to starve, the event would be this, that as they could not live on the salary, they would discretionally live out of the duly. Quere, whether poverty has not too great an influence now? Were the employment a place of direct labor, and not of trust, then frugality in the salary would be sound policy : but when it is con- sidered that the greatest single branch of the revenue, a duty amounting to near five millions sterling, is annually charged by a set of men, most of whom are wanting even the common necessa- ries of life, the thought must, to every friend to honesty, to every person concerned in the management of the public money, be strong and striking. Poor and in power, are powerful temptations ; I call it power, because they have it in their power to defraud. The trust unavoidably reposed in an Excise officer is so great, that it would be an act of wisdom, and perhaps of interest, to secure him from the temptations of downright poverty. To relieve their wants would be charity, but to secure the revenue by so doing, would be prudence. Scarcely a week passes at the office but some detections are made of fraudulent and collusive proceedings. The poverty of the officers is the fairest bait for a designing trader that can possibly be ; such introduce themselves to the ofTicei under the u 10 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. common plea of the insufficiency of the salary. Every considerate mind must allow, that poverty and opportunity corrupt many an honest man. I am not at all surprised that so many opulent and reputable traders have recommended the case of the officers to the good favor of their representatives. They are sensible of the pinching circumstances of the officers, and of the injury to trade in general, from the advantages which are taken of them. The wel- fare of the fair trader, and the security of the revenue, are so inseparably one, that their interest or injuries are alike. It is the opinion of such whose situation give them a perfect knowledge in the matter, that the revenue suffers more by the corruption of a few officers in a country, than would make a handsome addition to the salary of the whole number m the same place. I very lately knew an instance where it is evident, on compari- son of the duty charged since, that the revenue suffered by one trader, (and he not a very considerable one,) upwards of one hun- dred and sixty pounds per annum for several years ; and yet the benefit to the officer was a mere trifle, in consideration of the trader's. Without doubt the officer would have thought himself much happier to have received the same addition another way. The bread of deceit is a bread of bitterness ; but alas! how few in times of want and hardship are capable of thinking so : objects appear under new colors, and in shapes not naturally their own ; hunger sucks in the deception, and necessity reconciles it to conscience. The commissioners of Excise strongly enjoin, that no officer ac- cept any treat, gratuity, or, in short, lay himself under any kind of obligation to the traders under their survey : the wisdom of such an injunction is evident; but the practice of it, surrounded with children and poverty, is scarcely possible ; and such obligations, wherever they exist, must operate, directly or indirectly, to the injury of the revenue. Favors will naturally beget their likenesses, especially where the return is not at our own expense. I have heard it remarked, by a gentleman whose knowledge in excise business is indisputable, that there are numbers of officers who are even afraid to look into an unentered room, lest they should give offence. Poverty and obligation tie up the hands of office, and give a prejudicial bias to the mind. There is another kind of evil, which, though it may never amount to what may be deemed criminality in law, yet it may amount to what is much worse in effect, and that is, a constant and perpetual MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 11 leakage in tlie revenue : a sort of gratitude in the dark, a distant requital for such civilities as only the lowest poverty would accept, and which are a thousand per cent, above the value of the civility received. Yet there is no immediate collusion ; the trader and officer are both safe ; the design, if discovered, passes for error. These, with numberless other evils, have all their origin in the poverty of the officers. Poverty, in defiance of principle, begets a degree of meanness that will stoop to almost any thing. A thou- sand refinements of argument may be brought to prove, that the practice of honesty will be still the same, in the most trying and necessitous circumstances. He who never was an hungered man may argue finely on the subjection of his appetite ; and he who never was distressed, may harangue as beautifully on the power of princi- ple. But poverty, like grief, has an incurable deafness, which never hears ; the oration loses all its edge ; and " To 6e, or not to ie," becomes the only question. There is a striking difference between dishonesty arising from want of food, and want of principle. The first is worthy of com- passion, the other of punishment. Nature never produced a man who would starve in a well stored larder, because the provisions were not his own : but he who robs it from luxury of appetite de serves a gibbet. There is another evil which the poverty of the salary produces, and whicii nothing but an augmentation can remove ; and that is, negligence and indifference. These may not appear of such dark complexion as fraud and collusion, but their injuries to the revenue are the same. It is impossible that any office of business can be regarded as it ought, where this ruinous disposition exists. It re- quires no sort of argument to prove, tliat the value set upon any place or employment, will be in proportion to the value of it; and that diligence or negligence will arise from the same cause. The continual number of relinquishments and discharges always happen- ing in the Excise, are evident proofs of it. Persons first coming into the Excise, form very different notions of it, to what they have afterwards. The gay ideas of promotion soon expire; continuance of work, the strictness of the duty, and the poverty of the salary, soon beget negligence and indifference : the course continues for a while, the revenue suffers, and the officer is discharged : the vacancy is soon filled up, new ones arise io produce the same mischief, and share the same fate. 12 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. What adds still more to the weight of this grievance is, that this destructive disposition reigns most among such as are otherwise the most proper and qualified for the employment ; such as are neither fit for the Excise, or any thing else, are glad to hold in by any means : but the revenue lies at as much hazard from their want of judgment, as from the others' want of diligence. In private life, no man would trust the execution of any important concern, to a servant who was careless whether he did it or not, and the same rule must hold good in a revenue sense. The com- missioners may continue discharging every day, and the example will have no weight while the salary is an object so inconsiderable, and this disposition has such a general existence. Should it be advanced, that if men will be careless of such bread as is in their possession, they will still be the same were it better; I answer that, as the disposition I am speaking of is not the effect of natural idleness, but of dissatisfaction in point of profit, they would not continue the same. A good servant will be careful of a good place, though very indifferent about a bad one. Besides, this spirit of in- difference, should it procure a discharge, is no way affecting to their circumstances. The easy transition of a qualified officer to a compting house, or at least a school master, at any time, as it na- turally supports and backs his indifference about the Excise, so it takes off all punishment from the order whenever it happens. I have known numbers discharged from the Excise, who would have been a credit to their patrons and the employment, could they have found it worth their while to have attended to it. No man enters into the Excise with any higher expectations than a compe- tent maintenance ; but not to find even that, can produce nothing bnt corruption, collusion, and neglect. Remarks on the qualification of Officers. In employments where direct labor only is wanted, and trust quite out of the question, the service is merely animal or mechanical. In cutting a river, or forming a road, as there is no possibility of fraud, the merit of honesty is of but little weight. Health, strength, and hardiness, are the laborer's virtues. But where property de- pends on the trust, and lies at the discretion of the servant, the judgement of the master takes a different channel, both in the choice and the wages. The honest and dissolute have here no comparison of merit. A known thief may be trusted to gather stones; but a MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 13 Steward ought to be proof against the temptations of uncounted gold. The Excise is so far from being of the nature of the first, that it is all, and more than can commonly be put together in the last : It is a place of poverty, of trust, of opportunity, and temptation, A compound of discords, where the more they harmonize, the more they offend. To be properly qualified for the employment, it is not only ne- cessary that the person be honest, but that he be sober, diligent, and skilful ; sober, that he may be always capable of business ; diligent, that he may be always in his business; and skilful, that he may be able to prevent or detect frauds against the revenue. The want of any of ihese qualifications is a capital offence in the Excise. A complaint of drunkenness, negligence, or ignorance, is certain death by the laws of the board. It cannot then be all sorts of per- sons who are proper for the office. The very notion of procuring a sufficient number for even less than the present salary, is so des- titute of every degree of sound reason, that it needs no reply. The employment, from the insufficiency of the salary, is already become so inconsiderable in the general opinion, that persons of any capa- city or reputation will keep out of it ; for where is the mechanic, or even the laborer, who cannot earn at least Is. Q^d. per day 1 It certainly cannot be proper to take the dregs of every calling, and to make the Excise the common receptacle for the indigent, the Ignorant, and the calamitous. A truly worthy commissioner, lately dead, made a public offer, a few years ago, of putting any of his neighbors' sons into the Excise ; but though the offer amounted almost to an invitation, one only, whom seven years apprenticeship could not make a tailor, accepted it; who, after a twelvemonth's instruction, was ordered off, but in a few days finding the employment beyond his abilities, he prudently deserted it, and returned home, where he now remains in the character of an husbandman. There are very few instances of rejection even of persons who can scarce write their own names legibly ; for as there is neither law to compel, nor encouragement to excite, no other can be had than such as offer, and none will offer who can see any other prospect of living. Every one knows that the Excise is a Dlace of labor, not of ease ; of hazard, not of certainty ; and that downright poverty finishes the character. 14 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. It must Strike every considerate mind, to hear a man with a large family, faithful enough to declare, that he cannot support himself on the salary with that honest independency he could wish. There is a great degree of affecting honesty in an ingenuous confession. Eloquence may strike the ear, but the language of poverty strikes tlie heart; the first may charm like nmsic, but the second alarms like a knell. Of late years there has been such an admission of improper and unqualified persons in the Excise, that the office is not only become contemptible, but the revenue insecure. Collectors, whose long services and qualifications have advanced them to that station, are disgraced by the wretchedness of new supers continually. Certainly some regard ouglit to be had to decency, as well as merit. These are some of the capital evils which arise from the wretch- ed poverty of the salary. Evils they certainly are ; for what can be more destructive in a revenue office, than corruption, collusion, neglect, and ill qualifications. Should it be questioned whether an augmentation of salary would remove them, I answer, there is scarce a doubt to be made of it. Human wisdom may possibly be deceived in its wisest designs; but here, every thought and circumstance establishes the hope. They are evils of such a ruinous tendency, that they must, by some means or other, be removed. Rigor and severity have been tried in vain ; for punishment loses all its force where men expect and disregard it. Of late years, the board of Excise has shown an extraordinary tenderness in such instances as might otherwise have affected the circumstances of their officers. Their compassion has greatly tended to lessen the distresses of tlie employment ; but as it cannot amount to a total removal of them, the officers of Excise throughout the kingdom have (as the voice of one man) prepared petitions to be laid before the honorable house of commons on the ensuing parliament. An augmentation of salary, sufficient to enable them to live honestly and competently, would produce more good effect than all the laws of the land can enforce. The generality of such frauds as the officers have been detected in, have appeared of a nature as remote from inherent dishonesty as a temporary illness is from an incurable disease. Surrounded with want, children, and despair, MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 15 what can the husband or the father do ? No laws compel like na- ture — no connections bind like blood. With an addition of salary, the Excise would wear a new aspect, and recover its former constitution. Languor and neglect would give place to care and cheerfulness. Men of reputation and abili- ties wouW seek after it, and finding a comfortable maintenance would stick to it. The unworthy and incapable would be rejected, the power of superiors be reestablished, and laws and instructions eceive new force. The officers would be secured from the temp tations of poverty, and the revenue from the evils of it ; the cure would be as extensive as the complaint, and new health outroot the present corruptions. THOMAS PAINE. 16 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. PETITION TO THE BOARD OF EXCISE. Honorable Sirs: In humble obedience to your honors' letter of discharge, bearing date August 29, 1765, 1 delivered up my commission, and since that time have given you no trouble. I confess the justice of your honors' displeasure, and humbly beg leave to add my thanks for the candor and lenity which you at that unfortunate time indulged me with. And though the nature of the report and my own confession cut off all expectations of enjoying your honors' favor then, yet I humbly hope it has not finally excluded me therefrom ; upon which hope I humbly presume to intreat your honors to restore me. The time I enjoyed my former commission was short and unfor- tunate — an officer only a single year. No complaint of the least dishonesty, or intemperance, ever appeared against me ; and if I am so happy as to succeed in this my humble petition. I will en- deavor that my future conduct shall as much engage your honors' approbation, as my former has merited your displeasure. I am your honors' most dutiful humble servant, THOMAS PAINE. London, July 3, 1766. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 17 LETTER TO DR. GOLDSMITH. HoNoiiED Sir : Herewith I present you with the case of the officers of Excise. A compliment of this kind from an entire stranger may appear somewhat singular; but the following reasons and information will, I presume^ sufficiently apologize. I act myself in the humble station of an officer of Excise, though somewhat differently circum- stanced to what many of them are, and have been the principal promoter of a plan for applying to parliament this session for an increase of salary. A petition for this purpose has been circulated through every part of the kingdom, and signed by all the officers therein. A subscription of three shillings per officer is raised, amounting to upwards of £500, for supporting the expenses. The Excise officers in all cities and corporate towns, have obtained let- ters of recommendation from the electors to the members in their behalf, many or most of whom have promised tlieir support. The enclosed case we have presented to most of the members, and shall to all, before the petition appear in the house. The memorial be- fore you, met with so much approbation while in manuscript, that I was advised to print 4000 copies : 3000 of which were subscribed for the officers in general, and the remaining 1000 reserved for presents. Since the delivering them I have received so many letters of thanks and approbation for the performance, that were I not rather singularly modest, I should insensibly become a little vain. Th«. literary fame of Dr. Goldsmith has induced me to pre- sent one to him, such as it is. It is my first and only attempt, and even now I should not have undertaken it, had I not been particu- larly applied to by some of my superiors in office. I have some few questions io trouble Dr. Goldsmitli with, and should esteem his company for ai hour or two, to partake of a bottle of wine, or any thing else, avi apologize for this trouble, as a singular favor con- ferred on His unknown Humble servant and admirer, THOMAS PAINE. Excise Coffee House, Broad Street, Dec. 21, 1772. P. S. Sl'fjll take the liberty of waiting on you in a day or two. 18 MISCELLANEOUS LETTEUS AND ESSAYS. INTRODUCTION TO THE FIRST NUMBER OF THE PENNSYLVANIA MAGAZINE. To the Public. The design of this work has been so fully expressed in the printed proposals, that it is unnecessary to trouble the reader now with a formal preface ; and instead of that vain parade with which publications of this kind are introduced to the public, we shall con- tent ourselves with soliciting their candor, till our more qualified labors shall entitle us to their praise. The generous and considerate will recollect, that imperfection is natural to infancy ; and that nothing claims their patronage with a better grace than those undertakings which, besides their infant state, have many formidable disadvantages to oppress them. We presume it is unnecessary to inform our friends that we en- counter all the inconveniences which a Magazine can possibly start with. Unassisted by imported materials, we are destined to create, what our predecessors, in this walk, had only to compile. And the present perplexities of our affairs have rendered it somewhat difficult for us to procure the necessary aids. Thus encompassed with difficulties, the first number of The Pennsylvania Magazine entreats a favorable reception ; of which we shall only say, like the snowdrop, it comes forth in a barren season, and contents hself with foretelling, that choicer flowers are preparing to appear. Philadelphia^ January 24, 1775 ■MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 19 FOR THE PENNSYLVANIA MAGAZINE. Cupid and Hymen, An Original. As the little amorous deity was one day winging his way over a village in Arcadia, he was drawn by the sweet sound of the pipe and tabor, to descend and see what was the matter. The gods themselves are sometimes ravished with the simplicity of mortals. The groves of Arcadia were once the country seats of the celestials, where they relaxed from the business of the skies, and partook of ihe diversions of the villagers. Cupid being descended, was charm- ed with the lovely appearance of the place. Every thing he saw had an air of pleasantness. Every shepherd was in his holyday dress, and every shepherdess was decorated with a profusion of flowers. The sound of labor was not heard among them. The little cottages had a peaceable look, and were almost hidden with arbors of jessamine and myrde. The way to the temple was strewed with flowers, and enclosed with a number of garlands and green arches. " Surely," quoth Cupid, " here is a festival today. I'll hasten and inquire the matter." So saying, he concealed his bow and quiver, and took a turn through the village : As he approached a building distinguished from all the rest by the elegance of its appearance, he heard a sweet confusion of voices mingled with instrumental music. " What is the matter," said Cupid to a swain who was sitting under a syca- more by the way-side, and humming a very melancholy tune, "why are you not at the feast, and why are you so sadl" " I sit here, answered the swain, " to see a sight, and a sad sight 'twill be." " What is it," said Cupid, " come tell me, for perhaps I can help you." "I was once happier than a king," replied the swain, " and was envied by all the shepherds of the place, but now every thing is dark and gloomy, because" — " Because what 1" said Cupid — "Because I am robbed of my Ruralinda; Gothic, the lord of the manor, hath stolen her from me, and this is to be the nuptial day." "A wedding," quoth Cupid, "and I know nothing of it! you 20 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. must be mistaken, shepherd, I keep a record of marriages, and no such thing has come to my knowledge ; 'tis no wedding, I assure you, if I am not consulted about it." " The lord of the manor," continued the shepherd, " consulted nobody but Ruralinda's mother, and she longed to see her fair daughter the lady of the manor : he hath spent a deal of money to make all this appearance, for money will do any thing ; I only Avait here to see her come by, and then farewell to the hills and dales." Cupid bade him not be rash, and left him. " This is another of Hymen's tricks," quoth Cupid to /limself, "he hath frequently served me thus, but I'll hasten to him, and have it out with him." So saying, he repaired to the mansion. Every thing there had an air of grandeur rather than of joy, sump- tuous but not serene. The company were preparing to walk ia procession to the temple. The lord of the manor looked like the father of the village, and the business he was upon gave a foolish awkwarkness to his age and dignity. Ruialinda smiled, because she would smile, but in that smile was sorrow. Hymen with a torch faintly burning on one side only stood ready to accompany them. The gods when they please can converse in silence, and in that language Cupid began on Hymen. " Know, Hymen," said he, " that 1 am your master. Indulgent Jove gave you to me as a clerk, not as a rival, much less a superior. 'Tis my province to form the union, and yours to witness it. But of late you have treacherously assumed to set up for yourself. 'Tis true you may chain couples together like criminals, but you cannot yoke them like lovers ; besides you are such a dull fellow when I am not with you, that you poison the felicities of life. You have not a grace btit what is borrowed from me. As v/ell may the moon attempt to enlighten the earth without tlie sun, as you to bestow happiness when 1 am absent. At best you are but a temporal and a temporary god, whom Jove has appointed not to bestow, but to secure happiness, and restrain the infidelity of mankind. But as- sure' yourself that I'll complain of you to the synod." "This is very high indeed," replied Hymen, "to be called to an account by such a boy of a god as you are. You are not of such importance in the world as your vanity thinks ; for my own part I have enlisted myself with another master, and can very well do without you. Plutus* and I are greater than Cupid ; you may complain and welcome, for Jove himself descended in a silver * God of riches. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSATS. 21 shower and conquered : and by the same power the lord of the manor hath won a damsel, in spite of all the arrows in your quiver." Cupid, incensed at this reply, resolved to support his authority, and expose the folly of Hymen's pretensions to independence. As the quarrel was carried on in silence, the company were not inter- rupted by it. The procession began to set forward to the temple, where the ceremony was to be performed. The lord of the manor led the beautiful Ruralinda like a lamb devoted to the sacrifice Cupid immediately despatched a petition for assistance to his mothe on one of the sun-beams, and the same messenger returning in an instant, informed him that whatever he wished should be done. He immediately cast the old Lord and Ruralinda into one of the most extraordinary sleeps ever known. They continued walking in the procession, talking to each other, and observing every ceremony with as much order as if they had been awake; their souls had in a manner crept from their bodies, as snakes creep from their skin, and leave a perfect appearance of themselves behind. And so rapidly does imagination change the landscape of life, that in the same space of time which passed over while they were walking to the temple, they both ran through, in a strange variety of dreams, seven years of wretched matrimony. In which imaginary time, Gothic experienced all the mortification which age wedded to youth must expect ; and she all the infelicity which such a sale and sacri- fice of her person justly deserved. In this state of reciprocal discontent they arrived at the temple: Cupid still continued them in their slumber, and in order to expose the consequences of such marriages, he wrought so magically on the imaginations of them both, that he drove Gothic distracted at the supposed infidelity of his wife, and she mad with joy at the supposed death of her husband; and just as the ceremony was about to be performed, each of them broke out into such passionate soHloquies, as threw the whole company into confusion. He exclaiming, she rejoicing; he imploring death to relieve him, and she preparing to bury him; gold, quoth Ruralinda, may be bought too dear, but the grave has befriended. The company believing them mad, convey- ed them away, Gothic to his mansion, and Ruralinda to her cottage. The next day they awoke, and being grown wise without loss of time, or the pain of real experience, they mutually declined pro- ceeding any farther. The old Lord continued as he was, and ge- nerously bestowed a handsome dowry on Ruralinda, who was soon 22 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. after wedded to the young shepherd, that had so piteously bewailed the loss of her. The authority of Cupid was reestablished, and Hymen ordered never more to appear in the village, unless Cupid introduced him. Esop. ANECDOTE OF LORD MALMSBURY WHEN MINISTER AT PARIS. New Rochelle, April 26, 1806. Mr. Duane, I SEE, by the English papers, that some conversations have lately taken place in Parliament in England, on the subject of repealing the act that incorporated the members elected in Ireland with the Parliament elected in England, so as to form only one Parliament. As England could not domineer Ireland more despotically than it did through the Irish Parliament, people were generally at a loss, (as well they might be,) to discover any motive for that union, more especially as it was pushed with unceasing activity against all oppo- sition. The following anecdote, which was known but to few per- sons, and to none, I believe, in England, except the former minister, will unveil the mystery. " When Lord Malmsbury arrived in Paris, in the time of the Directory Government, to open a negociation for a peace, his cre- dentials ran in the old style of " George, by the grace of God, of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, king" — Malmsbury was in- formed that although the assumed title of king of France, m his credentials, would not prevent France opening a negociation, yet that no treaty of peace could be concluded until that assumed title was renounced. Pit then hit on the Union Bill, under which the assumed title of king of France was discontinued." THOMAS PAINF* MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 23 TO A FRIEND. New Rochelle, Jan. 16, 1805. Esteemed Friend, 1 have received two letters from you, one giving an account of your taking Thomas to Mr. Fowler, the other dated Jan. 12 ; I did not answer the first, because I hoped to see you the next Sa- turday or the Saturday after. What you heard of a gun being fired into the room is true ; Robert and Rachel were both gone out to keep Christmas Eve, and about eight o'clock at night the gun was fired ; I ran immediately out, one of Mr. Dean's boys with me, but the person that had done it was gone ; I directly suspected who it was, and hallowed to him by name, that he was discovered. I did this that the party who fired might know I was on the watch. I cannot find any ball, but whatever the gun was charged with passed through about three or four inches below the window, making a hole large enough for a finger to go through ; the muzzle must have been very near, as the place is black with the powder, and the glass of the window is shattered to pieces. Mr. Shule, after examining the place, and getting what information could be had, issued a warrant to take up Derrick, and after examination commit- ted him. He is now on bail (five hundred dollars) to take his trial at the Supreme Court in May next. Derrick dwes me forty-eight dollars, for which I have his note, and he was to work it out in making stone fence, which he has not even begun, and besides this 1 have to pay forty-two pounds eleven shillings, for which I had passed my word for him at Mr. Pelton's store. Derrick borrowed the gun under pretence of giving Mrs. Bayeaux a Christmas gun. He was with Purdy about two hours before the attack on the house was made, and he came from thence to Dean's half drunk, and brought with him a bottle of rum, and Purdy was with him when he was taken up. Yours, in friendship, THOMAS PAINE. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. A MATHEMATICAL QUESTION PROPOSED. Mr, Aitken : Wherever the arts and sciences have been cultivated, a particu- lar regard has been deservedly paid to the study of Mathematics. A practice has long prevailed among mathematicians of real disser- vice to the science. When they have propounded questions in periodical publications of this kind, they have generally made choice of such as had nothing to recommend them, but their difficulty of solution, and in which they seem rather to have aimed at victory over tlieir cotemporary rivals, than the advancement of knowledge. It were to be wished, indeed, that all questions might be suppress- ed, but such as may be applicable to some useful purpose in life. The following question, I hope, is of that class. If you should be of the same opinion, your sticking it in a niche in your Magazine, will oblige Your humble servant, P. In surveying a piece of land I found the dimensions as follows: 1 side N. 25° 30' E. 100 pers. 2 ...... S. 84° 30' E. 60 3 S. 360 0' E. 96 4 S. 26° 15' W. 85 5 N. 59° 30' W. 140 to the place of beginning. But upon calculating the contents from a table of difference of latitude and departure, I found I had made some error in the field; for my Northings and Southings, Eastings and Westings, were not exactly equal. Now supposing this error to have been equally contracted in every part of the survey, both from the inaccuracy of tailing the bearings and lengths of the boundary lines, (which is the most probable supposition,) it is required to correct this error, and tell the contents of this piece of land without making a resurvey. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 25 FOR THE PENNSYLVANIA MAGAZINE. See the Plate. Description of a new Electrical Machine, with Remarks. There is no place where the study of electricity has received more improvement than in Philadelphia: but in the construction of the machines the European philosophers have rather excelled. The opportunity of getting glasses blown or made in what form they please, and the easiness of finding artists to execute any new or improved invention, are perhaps the reasons of the difference. I look on a globe to be the worst form for a glass that can be used, because when in motion you cannot touch any great part of its surface, without having the cushion concave, which, if it is, will be very apt to press unequally ; a circumstance which ought to be guarded against. The cylinder is an improvement on the globe, because nearly all the surface may be touched, and that equally, by a plain cushion; yet both these forms exclude us from the inside, and only one or two cushions can be applied outside. Those machines whose glasses are planes, and revolve vertically, excite stronger than any other I have yet seen ; as there are not, I believe, any in this part of the world, and as the construction is a late one, I have added a description thereof, that if the glass can be procured, any gentleman inclined to have them, may easily get the other parts executed. Let A B represent a board of convenient length and breadth, into which I insert the upright pillar, B C, which must be cut down the middle, or two single ones must be joined, so as to receive the glass plate, D E F G, and also a thin cushion on each side, between the glass plate and the insides of the pillar. In the centre of the pillar, and on each side thereof, insert the arms, D E H I F G, so that the plate may go down between the whole. The cushions are thin pieces of board or brass, covered loosely with red leather, and stuffed, and slipped in on each side between the plate and the arms, Q 26 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. SO that the plate may turn between the eight cushions on each side of it.* The arms are generally thinned away as far as the cushions go, to receive them the more conveniently ; and in the back of each cushion is a brass pin at each end, and which lodge in a notch in the pillar, and prevent their being displaced by the motion of the glass; for the cushion should be made to take out, to be cleaned, &c. K L is a phial, and in order to have it ready, a circle is cut in the board, A B, to receive it. In the top of the phial is a wood stopper, M N, round the edge of which is glued a piece of woollen cloth to make it fix tight. Into the wood stopper, insert the brass stem, O P, to the end of which is fixed a chain, P Q. The con- ductor, R S, is a brass tube, which screws on the stem, O P, to which is fixed eight branches, though four are only represented in the plate, to avoid confusion, the branches terminate in points, di- rected in the spaces in the glass plate between the cushioiis, and col- lecting the fire from thence, convey it by means of the conductor and chain to the receiver, K L. The glass plate is turned by a winch made fast to an axis, which goes through the plate and pil- lars, (I presume that a square hole struck through the centre of the plate while it is hot, at the time of making it,) and the better to fas- ten the plate on the axis, a piece of wood, the size of a small saucer, is cemented to each side of the plate at the centre, and the axis passes through the whole. If the coating comes to the bottom of the receiver, there needs no chain round it, to carry off the fire that will unavoidably steal down the outside, that being supplied by the phial being in contact with the board, the board with the table it stands on, &c. ; but this communication must by some means be cut off, in order to charge the phial on the outside, which the machine that I saw was not supplied with. Any non-conducting body interposed between the phial and board will supply that defect. This is an exact description, as far as my memory can recollect, of that which I saw. I think the plate was about eighteen inches diameter, and about two-tenths of an inch in thickness, and had a greenish cast.t A less plate requires fewer arms. I am inclined to think, but I offer it only as a conjecture, that if * The cushions are represented as fixed between the plate and the arms, by the figures 1, 2, 3, 4. t I think if a cylinder was cut open while hot, and flexible in making, and spread on a plane surface, it would be sufficient for the purpose. Glass excites the stronger by not being too smooth MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 27 additional branches were fixed to those represented in the figure, and brought over the edge of the glass, and pointed to the other side in the same manner as the first set does, a greater if not a double quantity of fire would be collected. My reasons are, 1. That the friction being on both sides equal, the quantity of matter excited on each side, may be supposed to be equal like- wise. 2. That as glass is not pervadeable by electrical matter, the union of the two quantities cannot be effected that way. 3. That as glass will not conduct on its surface, the edge of the plate will act as a barrier between the two quantities. Perhaps endeavoring to charge two phials from the different sides of the plate at one time, will best demonstrate this point. ATLANTICUS. Philadelphia^ January 10. 28 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. NEW ANECDOTES OF ALEXANDER THE GREAT. In one of those calm and gloomy days, which have a strange effect in disposing the mind to pensiveness, I quitted the bus^'^town and withdrew into the country. As I passed towards the Schuylkill, my ideas enlarged widi the prospect, and sprung from place to place with an agility for which nature hath not a simile. Even the eye is a loiterer, when compared with the rapidity of the thougiits. Before I could reach the ferry I had made the tour of the creation, and paid a regular visit to almost every country under the sun ; and while I was crossing the river, I passed the Styx and made large excursions into the shadowy regions ; but my ideas relanded with my person, and taking a new flight inspected tlie state of things unborn ; this happy wildness of imagination makes a man a lord of the world, and discovers to him the value and the vanity of all its passions. Having discharged the two terrestial Charons, v'ho ferried me over the Schuylkill, [ took up my staff and walked into the woods. Every thing conspired to hush me into a pleasing kind of melancholy, the trees seemed to sleep, and the air hung round me with such unbreathing silence, as if listening to my very thoughts. Perfectly at rest from care or business, I suffered my ideas to pursue their own unfetterred fancies ; and in less time than what is required to express it in, they had again passed the Styx and toured round many miles into the new country. As the servants of great men always imitate their masters abroad, so my ideas, habitiqg themselves in my likeness, figured away with all the consequence of the person they belonged to ; and calling themselves when united / and me wherever they went, brought me, on tlieir return, the following anecdotes of Alexander ; viz. Having a mind to see in what manner Alexander lived in the Plutonian world, I crossed the Styx, (without the help of Charon, for the dead only are his fare,) and enquired of a melancholy look- ing shade who was sitting on the banks of the river, if he could give me any account of him ; yonder he comes, replied the shade, get out of the way or you'll be run over. Turning myself round I saw a grand equipage rolling towards me which filled the whole MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 29 avenue. Bless me ! thought I, the gods still continue this man in his insolence and pomp ! The chariot was drawn by eight horses in golden harness, and the whole represented his triumphal return, after he had conquered the world. It passed me with a splendor I had not seen before, and shined so luminously up into the country, that I discovered innumerable shades silting under the trees, which before were invisible. As there were two persons in the chariot equally splendid, I could not distinguish which was Alexander, and on requiring that information of the shade who still stood by, he replied, Alexander is not there. Did you not, continued I, tell me that Alexander was coming, and bid me get out of the way 1 Yes, answered the shade, becuse lie was the fore horse on the side next to us. Horse ! I mean Alexander the Emperor. / mean the same, replied the shade, for tvhatever he was on the other side of the water is nothing now, he is a horse here ; and not always that, for when he is apprehensive that a good licking is intended for him, he watches his opportunity to roll out of the stable in the shape of a piece of dung or in any other disguise he can escape. On this information I turned instantly away, not being able to bear the thoughts of such astonishing degradation not^vithstanding the aversion I have to his character. But curiosity got the better of my compassion, and having a mind to see what sort of a figure the conqueror of the world cut in the stable, I directed my flight thither. He was just returned with the rest of the horses from the journey, and the groom was rubbing him down with a large furze bush, but turning himself round to get a still larger and more prickly one that was newly brought in, Alexander catched the opportunity, and in- stantly disappeared, on which I quitted the place, lest I should be suspected of stealing him. When I had reached the banks of the river, and v/as preparing to take my flight ovei", I perceived that I had picked up a bug among the Plutonian gentry, and thinking it was needless to increase the breed on this side the water, was going to dispatch it, when the little wretch screamed out, Spare Alexan- der the Great. On which I withdrew the violence I was ofiering to his person, and holding up the emperor between my finger and thumb, he exhibited a most contemptible figure of the downfall of tyrant greatness. Afilected with a mixture of concern and compas- sion {which he was always a stranger to) I suflered him to nibble on a pimple that was newly risen on my hand, in order to refresh him ; after which I placed him on a tree to hide him, but a tom-tit 30 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. coming by, chopped him up with as little ceremony as he put whole kingdoms to the sword. On which I took my flight, reflecting with pleasure that I was not Alexander the Great. Esop. TO THOMAS CLIO RICKMAN. New York, March 8, 1803. My dear friend, Mr. Munroe, who is appointed Minister Extraordinary to France, takes charge of this, to be delivered to Mr. Este, banker, in Paris, to be forwarded to you. I arrived at Baltimore on the 30th October, and you can have no idea of the agitation which my arrival occasioned. From New Hampshire to Georgia, (an extent of 1500 miles,) every newspaper was filled with applause or abuse. My property in this country has been taken care of by my friends, and is now worth six thousand pounds sterling, which put in the funds will bring me four hundred pounds sterling a year. Remember me in friendship and afiection to your wife and family, and in the circle of our friends. I am but just arrived here, and the minister sails in a few hours, so that I have but just time to write you this. If he should not sail this tide, I will write to my good friend Colonel Bosville, but in any case, I request you to wait on him for me. Yours, in friendship, THOMAS PAINE. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 31 REFLECTIONS ON THE LIFE AND DEATH OF LORD CLIVE. Ah ! The tale is told — the scene is ended — and the curtain falls. As an emblem of the vanity of all earthly pomp, let his monument be a globe, but be that globe a bubble ; let his effigy be a man walking round it in his sleep ; and let Fame, in the character of a shadow, inscribe his honors on the air. I view him but as yesterday on the burning plains of Plassey,* doubtful of life, health, or victory. I see him in the instant when " To he or not to 6e," were equal chances to a human eye. To be a lord or a slave, to return loaded with the spoils, or remain min- gled with the dust of India. Did necessity always justify the se- verity of a conqueror, the rude tongue of censure would be silent, and however painfully he might look back on scenes of horror, the pensive reflection would not alarm him. Though his feelings suf- fered, his conscience would be acquitted. The sad remembrance would move serenely, and leave the mind without a wound. But oh, India! thou loud proclaimer of European cruelties ! thou bloody monument of unnecessary deaths ! be tender in the day of inquiry, and show a Christian world thou canst suffer and forgive. Departed from India, and loaded with plunder, I see him doubling the Cape and looking wistfully to Europe. I see him contemplating on years of pleasure, and gratifying his ambition with expected honors. I see his arrival pompously announced in every newspa- per, his eager eye rambling through the crowd in quest of homage, and his ear listening lest an applause should escape him. Happily for him he arrived before his faine, and the short interval was a time of rest. From the crowd I follow him to court, I see him en- veloped in the sunshine of sovereign favor, rivalling the great in honors, the proud in splendor, and the rich in wealth. -From the court I trace him to the country ; his equipage moves like a camp ; *Battle of Plassey, in the East Indies, where Lord Clive, at that time Colonel Clive, acquired an immense fortune, and from which place his title is taken. 32 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. every village bell proclaims his coming ; the wondering peasants admire his pomp, and his heart runs over with joy. But, alas ! (not satisfied with unaccountable thousands) I accom- pany him again to India. I mark the variety of countenances which appear at his landing — Confusion spreads the news — every passion seems alarmed — the wailing widow, the crying orphan, and the childless parent remember and lament ; the rival Nabobs court his favor ; the rich dread his power — and the poor his severity. Fear and terror march like pioneers before his camp — murder and rapine accompany it — famine and wretchedness follow it in the rear. Resolved on accumulating an unbounded fortune, he enters into all the schemes of war, treaty, and intrigue. The British sword is set up for sale ; the heads of contending Nabobs are offered at a price, and the bribe taken from both sides. Thousands of men or money are trifles in an Indian bargain. The field is an empire, and the treasure almost without end. The wretched inhabitants are glad to compound for offences never committed, and to pur- chase at any rate the privilege to breathe; while he, the sole lord of their lives and fortunes, disposes of either as he pleases, and prepares for Europe.* Uncommon fortunes require an imcommon date of life to enjoy them in. The usual period is spent in preparing to live : and un- * In April, 1773, a Committee of the House of Commons, under the name of the Select Committee, were appointed by the House to inquire into the East India affairs, and the conduct of the several Governors of Bengal The Committee having gone through the examination. General Burgoyne, the chairman, prefaced their report to the House, informing them, "That the reports contained accounts shocking to human nature, that the most in- famous designs had been carried into execution by perfidy and murder. He recapitulated the v/retched situation of the East Indian princes, who held their dignities on the precariousconditionof being the higliest bribers. No claim, however just on their part, he said, could be admitted without being introduced with enormous sums of rupees, nor any prince suffered to reign long, who did not quadrate with this idea; and that Lord Clive, over and above the enormous sums he might with some appearance of justice lay claim to, Iiad obtained others to which he could have no title. He (General Bur. goyne) therefore moved, "That it appears to this house, that Robert Lord Clive, baron of Plassey, about the time of deposing Surajah Dowla, Nabob of Bengal, and establishing Meer Jaffierin his room, did, through the influ- ence of the power with which he was intrusted, as member of the Select Committee in India, and Commander in Chief of the British forces there, obtain and possess himself of two lacks and 80,000 rupees, as member of the Select Committee ; a further sum of two lacks of rupees, as Commander in Chief; a further sum of 16 lacks of rupees, or more, under the denomination of private donations; which sums, amounting together to 20 lacks and 80- 000 rupees, were of the value, in English money, of :£234,000, and that in BO doing, the said Robert Lord Clive abused the powers with which he was intrusted, to the evil example of the servants of the public." MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 33 less nature prolongs the time, fortune bestows her excess of favors in vain. The Conqueror of the East having nothing more to expect from the one, has all his court to make to the other. Anxiety for wealth gives place to anxiety for life ; and wisely recollecting that the sea is no respecter of persons, resolves on taking his route to Europe by land. Little beings move unseen, or unobserved, but he engrosses whole kingdoms in his march, and is gazed at like a comet. The burning desart, the pathless mountains, and the fertile valleys, are in their turns explored and passed over. No material accident dis- tresses his progress, and England once more receives the spoiler. How sweet is rest to the weary traveller ; the retrospect heightens the enjoyment ; and if the future prospect be serene, the days of ease and happiness are arrived. An uninquiring observer might have been inclined to consider Lord Clive, under all these agree- able circumstances, one, whose every care was over, and who had nothing to do but sit down and say, Soul take thine ease, thou hast goods laid up in store for many years. The reception which he met with on his second arrival, was in every instance equal, and in many, exceeded, the honors of the first. It is the peculiar temper of the English to applaud before the}' think. Generous of their praise, they frequently bestow it unworthily: but when once the truth arrives, the torrent stops, and rushes back again with the same violence.* Scarcely had the echo ♦ Lord Clive, in the defence which he made in the House of Commons, against the charges mentioned in the preceding note, very positively insists on his innocence, and very pathetically laments his situation ; and after in- forming the House of the thanks which he had some years before received, for the same actions which they are now endeavoring to censure him for, he says, "After such certificates as these. Sir, am I to be brought here like a crimi- nal, and the very best part of my conduct construed into crimes against the state ? Is this the reward that is now held out to persons who have perform ed such important services to their coumtry ? If it is, Sir, the future conse quences that will attend the execution of any important trust, committed to the persons who have the care of it, will be fatal indeed ; and I am sure the noble Lord upon the treasury bench, whose great humanitj'and abilities I revere, would never have consented to the resolutions that passed the other night, if he had thought on the dreadful consequences that would attend them. Sir, I cannot say that I either sit or rest easy, when I find tJiat all I have in the world is likely to be confiscated, and that no one will take my security for a shilling. These, Sir, are dreadful apprehensions to remain under, and I cannot but look upon myself as a bankrupt. I have not any thing left which I can call my own, except my paternal fortune, of £500 per annum, and which has been in the family for ages past. But upon this lam contented to live, and perhaps I shall find more real content of mind ftnd happiness than in the trembling afl^uence of an unsettled fortune. But 34 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. of applause ceased upon the ear, than the rude tongue of censure took up the tale. The newspapers, fatal enemies to ill-gotten wealth, began to buz a general suspicion of his conduct, and the inquisitive public soon refined it into particulars. Every post gave a stab to his fame — a wound to his peace — and a nail to his coffin. Like spectres from the grave, they haunted him in every company, and whispered murder in his ear. A life chequered with uncommon varieties is seldom a long one. Action and care will in time wear down the strongest frame, but guilt and melancholy are poisons of quick despafch. Say, cool deliberate reflection, was the prize, though abstracted from the guilt, worthy of the pains 1 Ah ! no. Fatigued with vic- tory he sat down to rest, and while he was recovering breath, he lost it. A conqueror more fatal than himself beset him, and revenged the injuries done to India. As a cure for avarice and ambition let us take a view of him in his latter years. — Ha ! what gloomy being wanders yonder 1 How visibly is the melancholy heart delineated on his countenance. He mourns no common care— his very steps are timed to sorrow — he trembles with a kind of mental palsy. Perhaps it is some broken hearted parent, some David mourning for his Absalom, or some Heraclitus weeping for the world. I hear him mutter something about wealth — perhaps he is poor, and hath not wherewithal to hide his head. Some debtor started from his sleepless pillow, to rumi- nate on poverty, and ponder on the horrors of a jail. Poor man! I'll to him and relieve .him. Ha! 'tis Lord Clive himself! Bless me, what a change ! He makes, I see, for yonder cypress shade, a fit scene for melancholy hearts ! I'll watch him there and listen to his story. Lord Clive. " Can I but suffer Avhen a beggar pities me. Ere Sir, I must make one more observation, that, if the definition of tlic Hon. Gentleman, [General Burgoync,] and of this House, is tliat the state, as ex- pressed in these resolutions, is, quo ad hoc, the Company, then. Sir, every farthing that I enjoy is granted to me. But to be called, after sixteen years have elapsed, to account for my conduct in this manner, and after an unin- terrupted enjoyment of my property, to be questioned and considered as obtaining it unwarrantably, is hard indeed ! and a treatment I should not think the British Senate capable of. But if it should be the case, I have a conscious innocence within me, tliat tells me my conduct is irreproachable. Frangas, non flectes. They may take from me what I have ; they may, as thoy think, make me poor, but I will be happy ! I mean not this as my defence. My defence will be m.ade at the bar; and before I sit down, I have one re- quest to make to the House, that when they come to decide upon my honor, they will not forget their own. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 35 while I heard a ragged wretch, who every mark of poverty had on, say to a sooty sweep. Ah, poor Lord Clive ! while he the negro- colored vagrant, more mercifully cruel, curst me in my hearing. "There was a time when fortune, like a yielding mistress, courted me with smiles — she never waited to be told my wishes, but studied to discover them, and seemed not happy to herself, but when she had some favor to bestow. Ah ! little did I think the fair enchant- ress would desert me thus,; and after lavishing her smiles upon me, turn my reproacher, and publish me in folio to the world. Volumes of morality are dull and spiritless compared to me. Lord Clive is himself a treatise upon vanity, printed on a golden type. The most unlettered clown writes explanatory notes thereon, and reads them to his children. Yet I could bear these insults could I but bear myself. A strange unwelcome something hangs about me. In company I seem no company at all. The festive board appears to me a stage, the crimson colored port resembles blood — each glass is strangely metamorphosed to a man in armour, and every bowl appears a Nabob. The joyous toast is like the sound of murder, . and the loud laugh are the groans of dying men. The scenes of India are all rehearsed, and no one sees the tragedy but myself. Ah ! I discover things which are not, and hear unuttered sounds. " O peace, thou sweet companion of the calm and innocent ? Whither art thou fled ? here take m}^ gold, and all the world calls mine, and come thou in exchange. O thou, thou noisy sweep, who mixeth thy food with soot and relish it, who canst descend from lofty heights and walk the humble earth again, without repining at the change, come teach thy mystery to me. Or thou, thou ragged wandering beggar, who, when thou canst not beg successfully, wil. pilfer from the hound, and eat the dirty morsel sweetly ; be thou Lord Clive, and I will beg, so I may laugh like thee. " Could I unlearn what I've already learned — unact what I've already acted — or would some sacred power convey me back to youth and innocence, I'd act another part — I'd keep within the vale of humble life, nor wish for what the world calls pomp. "But since this cannot be, And only a few days and sad remain for me, I'll haste to quit the scene ; for what is life,* When every passion of the soul's at strife ?" AxLANTICtJS. * Some time before his death, he became very melancholy — subject to strange imaginations — and was found dead at last. 36 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. TO A FRIEND IN PHILADELPHIA. Paris, Blarch 16, 171 i>. I LEAVE this place to-morrow for London ; I go expressly for the purpose of erecting an iron bridge, which Messrs. Walkers, of Rotheram, Yorkshire, and I have constructed, and is now ready for putting together. It is an arch of one hundred and ten feet span, and five feet high, from the chord line. It is as portable as common bars of iron, and can be put up and taken down at plea- sure, and is, in fact, rendering bridges a portable manufacture. With respect to the French revolution, be assured that every thing is going on right. Little inconveniences, the necessary con- sequences of pulling down and building up, may arise ; but even these are much less than ought to have heen expected. Our friend, the Marquis, is like his patron and master, General Washington, acting a great part. I take over with me to London, the key of the Baslile, which the Marquis intrusts to my care as his present to General Washington, and which I shall send by the first American vessel to New York. It will be yet some months before the new Constitution will be completed, at which time there is to be a pro- cession, and I am engaged to return to Paris to carry the Ameri- can flag. In England, the ministerial party oppose every iota of reforma- tion : the high beneficed clergy and bishops cry out that the church is in danger ; and all those who were interested in the remains of the feudal system, join in the clan)or. I see very clearly that the conduct of the British government, by opposing reformation, will detach great numbers from the political interests of that country ; and that France, through the influence of principles and the divine right of men to freedom, will have a stronger pai*ty in England than she ever had through the Jacobite bugbear of the divine right of kings in the Stuart line. I wish most anxiously to see my much loved America. It is the country from whence all reformation must originally spring. I despair of seeing an abolition of the infernal trafiic in negroes. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 37 We must push that matter further on your side of the water. I wish that a few well instructed, could be sent among their brethien in bondage ; for until they are enabled to take their own part, nothing will be done. I am, With many wishes for your happiness, Your affectionate friend, THOMAS PAINE. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. TO SIR GEORGE STAUNTON. BART. Sir,— As I know you interest yourself in the success of the useful arts, and are a member of the society for the promotion thereof, I do myself the pleasure to send you an account of a small experiment I have been making at Messrs. Walkers' iron works at this place. You have already seen the model I constructed for a bridge of a single arch, to be made of iron, and erected over the river Schuyl- kill, at Philadelphia ; but as the dimensions may have escaped your recollections, I will begin with stating those particulars. The vast quantity of ice and melted snow at the breaking up of the frost in that part of America, render it impracticable to erect a bridge on piers. The river can conveniently be contracted to four hundred feet, the model, therefore, is for an arch of four hundred feet span ; the height of the arch in the centre, from the chord thereof, is to be about twenty feet, and to be brought off on the top, so as to make the ascent about one foot in eighteen or twenty. The judgment of the Academy of Sciences at Paris, has been given on the principles and practicability of the construction. The original, signed by the Academy, is in my possession ; and in which they fully approve and support the design. They introduce their opinion by saying, "II est sur que lors qu'on pense au projut d'une arche en fer de 400 pieds d'overture, et aux effets qui peuvent resulter d'une arche d'une si vaste ^tendue, il est difficile de ne pas 61ever des doutes sur le succ^s d'une pareille enterprise, par les difficult6s qu'elle presente au pr6miere apergu. Mais si telle est la disposition des parties, et la manifere dont elles sont reunis, qu'il result de cet as semblage un tout tres ferme et tr^s solide, alors on n'aura plus les memos doutes sur la reussite de ce projet."* * It is certain that when such a project as that of making an iron arch of four hundred feet span is thought of, and when we consider the effects resulting from an arch of such vast magnitude, it would be strange if doubts were not raised as to the success of such an enterprize, from the difficulties which at first present themselves. But if such be the disposition of the various parts, MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 39 The Academy then proceed to state the reasons on which their judgment is founded, and conclude with saying, " Nous concluons de tout ce que nous venons d'exposer que la pont de fer de M. Paine est ingenieusement imagin6, que la con struction en est simple, solide, et propre a lui donner la force ne- cessaire pour resister aux effets resultans de sa charge, et qu'il merite qu'on en tente I'execution. Enfin, qu'il pourra fournira un nouvel exemple de Tapplication d'un m^tal dont on n'a pas jusqu' ici fait assez d'usage en grand, quoique dans nombre d'occasions il est peu ^tre employe avec plus grand succfes."* As it was my design to pass some time in England before I re- turned to America, I employed part of it in making the small essay 1 am now to inform you of. My intention, when I came to the iron works, was to raise an arch of at least two hundred feet span, but as it was late in the fall of last year, the season was too far advanced to work out of doors, and an arch of that extent too great to be worked within doors, and as I was unwilling to lose time, I moderated my ambition with a little common sense, and began with such an arch as could be compassed within some of the buildings belonging to the works. As the construction of the American arch admits, in practice, any species of curve with equal facility, I set off in preference to all others, a catenarian arch of ninety feet span, and five feet high. Were this arch converted into an arch of a circle, the diameter of its circle would be four hundred and ten feet. From the ordinates of the arch taken from the wall where the arch was struck, I pro- duced a similar arch on the floor whereon the work was to be fitted and framed, and there was something so apparently just when the work was set out, that the looking at it promised success. You will recollect that the model is composed of four paralle. arched ribs, and as the number of ribs may be increased at pleasure to any breadth an arch sufficient for a road way may require, and the arches to any number the breadth of a river may require, the and the method ofuniti.ng them, that the collective body should present ir. whole both firm and solid, we should then no longer have the same doubts of the success of the plan. * We conclude from what we have just remarked that Mr. Paine's Plan of an Iron Bridge is ingeniously imagined, that the construction of it is sim- ple, solid, and proper to give it the necessary strength for resisting the effects resulting from its burden, and that it is deserving of a trial. In short, it may furnish a new example of the application of a meto.l, which has not hith- erto been used in any works on an extensive scale, although on many occa- eions it is employed with the greatest success. 40 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. construction of one rib would determine for the whole ; because if one rib succeeded, all the rest of the work, to any extent, is a repetition. In less time than I expected, and before the winter set in, I had fitted and framed the arch, or properly the rib, completely together on the floor ; it was then taken in pieces and stowed away during the winter, in a corner of a work shop, used in the mean time by the carpenters, where it occupied so small a compass as to be hid among the shavings, and though the extent of it is ninety feet, the depth of the arch at the centre two feet nine inches, and the depth at the branches six feet, the whole of it might, when in pieces, be put in an ordinary stage wagon, and sent to any part of England. I returned to the works in April, and began to prepare for erect- ing ; we chose a situation between a steel furnace and a workshop, which served for hutments. The distance between those buildings was about four feet more than the span of the arch, which we filled up with chumps of wood at each end. I mention this as I shall have occasion to refer to it hereafter. We soon ran up a centre to turn the arch upon, and began our erections. Every part fitted to a mathematical exactness; the rais- ing an arch of this construction is different to the method of raising a stone arch. In a stone arch they begin at the bottom, on the ex- tremities of the arch, and work upwards, meeting at the crown. In this we began at the crown, by a line perpendicular thereto, and worked downward each way. It differs likewise in another respect. A stone arch is raised by sections of the curve, each stone being so, and this by concentric curves. The effect likewise of the arch upon the centre is different, for as stone arches sometimes break down the centre by their weight, this, on the contrary, grew lighter on the centre as the arch increased in thickness, so much so, that before the arch was completely finished, it rose itself off the centre the full thickness of the blade of a knife from one hutment to the other, and is, I suppose, the first arch of ninety feet span that ever struck itself. I have already mentioned that the spaces between the ends of the arches and the hutments were filled up with chumps of wood, and those rather in a damp state ; and though we rammed them as close as we could, we could not ram them so close as the drying^ and the weight of the arch, or rib, especially when loaded, would be capable of doing ; and we had now to observe the effects which the MISCELLANEOUS LETTEUS AND ESSAYS. 41 yielding and pressing up of the wood, and which corresponds to the giving way of the hutments, so generally fatal to stone arches, would have upon this. We loaded the rib with six tons of pig iron, beginning at the centre, and proceeding both ways, which is twice the weight of the iron in the rib, as I shall hereafter more particulai:ly mention. This had not the least visible effect on the strength of the arch, but it pressed the wood home, so as to gain in three or four days, together with the drying and shrinking of the wood, above a quarter of an inch at each end, and consequently the chord or span of the arch was lengthened above half an inch. As this lengthening was more than double the feather of the keystone in a stone arch of these dimensions, such an alteration at the hutment would have endanger- ed the safety of a stone arch, while it produced on this no other than the proper mathematical effect. To evidence this, 1 had re- course to the cord still swinging on the wall from which the curve of the arch was taken. I set the cord to ninety feet span, and five feet for the height of the arch, and marked the curve on the wall. I then removed the ends of the cords horizontally sometliing more than a quarter of an inch at each end. The cord siiould then de- scribe the exact catenarian curve which the rib Iiad assumed by the same lengthening at the hutments ; that is, the rising of the cord should exactly correspond to the lowering of the arch, which it did through all their corresponding ordinates. The cord had risen something more than two inches at the centre, diminishing to nothing each way, and the arch had descended the same quantity, and in the same proportion. I much doubt whether a stone arch, could it be constructed as flat as this, could sustain such an altera- tion ; and, on the contrary', I see no reason to doubt but an arch on this construction and dimensions, or corresponding thereto, might be let down to half its height, or as far as it would descend, with safety. I say, "as far as it would descend," because the construc- tion renders it exceedingly probable that there is a point beyond which it would not descend, but retain itself independent of hut- ments ; but this cannot be explained but by a sight of the arch itself. In four or five days, the arch having gained nearly all it could gain on the wood, except what the wood would lose by a summer's drying, the lowering of the arch began to be scarcely visible. The weight still continues on it, to which I intend to add more; and there is not the least visible effect on the perfect curvature or 42 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. streni^h of the arch. The arch having thus gained nearly a solid bearing on the wood and the hutments, and the days beginning to be warm, and the nights continuing to be cool, I had now to ob- serve the effects of the contraction and expansion of the iron. The Academy of Sciences at Paris, in their report on the prin- ciples and construction of this arch, state these effects as a matter of perfect indifference to the arch, or to the hutments, and the ex- perience establishes the truth of their opinion. It is probable the Academy may have taken, in part, the observations of M. Peronnet, architect to the King of France, and a member of the Academy, as some ground for that opinion. From the observations of M. Peronnet, all arches, whether of stone or brick, are constantly ascending or descending by the changes of the weather, so as to render the difference perceptible by taking a level, and that all stone and brick buildings do the same. In short, that matter is never stationary, with respect to its dimensions, but when the atmos- phere is so ; but that as arches, like the tops of houses, are open to the air, and at freedom to rise, and all their weight in all changes of heat and cold is the same, their pressure is very little or nothing affected by it. I hung a thermometer to the arch, where it has continued several days, and by what I can observe it equals, if not exceeds, the ther- mometer in exactness. In twenty-four hours it ascends and descends two and three-tenths of an inch at the centre, diminishing in exact mathematical propor- tion each way ; and no sooner does an ascent or descent of half a hair's breadth appear at the centre, but it may be proportionally discovered through the whole span of ninety feet. I have affixed an index which multiplies ten times, and it can as easily be multipli- ed an hundred times : could I make a line of fire on each side the arch, so as to heat it in the same equal manner through all its parts, as the natural air does, I would try it up to blood heat. I will not attempt a description of the construction ; first, because you have already seen the model ; and, secondly, that I have often observed that a thing may be so very simple as to baffle description. On this head I shall only say, that I took the idea of constructing A from a spider's web, of which it resembles a section, and I naturally supposed, that when Nature enabled that insect to make a web, she taught it the best method of putting it together. Another idea I have taken from Nature is, that of increasing the MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 43 Strength of matter by causing it to act over a larger space than it would occupy in a solid state, as is evidenced in the bones of ani- mals, quills of birds, reeds, canes, «Stc., which, were they solid with the same quantity of matter, would have the same weight with a much less degree of strength. I have already mentioned that the quantity of iron in this rib is three tons ; that an arch of sufficient width for a bridge is to be composed of as many ribs as that width requires ; and that the number of arches, if the breadth of a river requires more than one, may be multiplied at discretion. As the intention of this experiment was to ascertain, first, the practicability of the construction, and secondly, what degree of strength any given quantity of iron would have when thus formed into an arch, I employed in it no more than three tons, which is as small a quantity as could well be used in the experiment. It has already a weight of six tons constantly lying on it, without any ef- fect on the strength or perfect curvature of the arch. What greater weight it will bear cannot be judged of; but taking even these as data, an arch of any strength, or capable of bearing a greater weight than can ever possibly come upon any bridge, may be easily calculated. The river Schuylkill, at Philadelphia, as I have already mention- ed, requires a single arch of four hundred feet span. The vast quantities of ice render it impossible to erect a bridge on piers, and is the reason why no bridge has been attempted. But great scenes inspire great ideas. The natural mightiness of America expands the mind, and it partakes of the greatness it contemplates. Even the war, with all its evils, had some advantages. It energized in- vention and lessened the catalogue of impossibilities. At the con- clusion of it every man returned to his home to repair the ravages it had occasioned, and to think of war no more. As one amongst thousands who had borne a share in that memorable revolution, I returned with them to the reenjoyment of quiet life, and, that I might not be idle, undertook to construct a bridge of a single arch for this river. Our beloved General had engaged in rendering another river, the Patowmac, navigable. The quantity of iron I had allowed in my plan for tliis arch was five hundred and twenty tons, to be distributed into thirteen ribs, in conmiemoration of the Thirteen United States, each rib to contain forty tons; but although strength is the first object in works of this kind, I shall, from the 44 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. success of this experiment, very considerably lessen the quantity of iron T had proposed. The Academy of Sciences, in their report upon this construction, say, " there is one advantage in the construction of M. Paine's bridge that is singular and important, which is, that the success of an arch to any span can be determined before the work be under- taken on the river, and with a small part of the expense of the whole, by erecting part on the ground.'* As to its appearance, I shall give you an extract of a letter from a gentlemen in the neighborhood, member in the former parlia- ment for this county, who, in speaking of the arch, says, ** In point of elegance and beauty, it far exceeds my expectations, and it is certainly beyond any thing I ever saw." I shall likewise mention that it is much visited and exceedingly admired by the ladies, who, though they may not be much acquainted with mathematical princi- ples, are certainly judges of taste. I shall close my letter with a few other observations, naturally and necessarily connected with the subject. That, contrary to the general opinion, the most preservative situation in which iron can be placed is within the atmosphere of water, whether it be that the air is less saline and nitrous than that which arises from the filth of streets, and the fermentation of the earth, I am not undertaking to prove ; I speak only of fact, which any body may observe by the rings and bolts in wharfs and other watery situations. I never yet saw the iron chain affixed to a well- bucket consumed or injured by rust; and I believe it is impossible to find iron exposed to the open air in the same preserved condi- tion as that which is exposed over water. A method of extending the span and lessening the height of arches has always been the desideratum of bridge architecture. But it has other advantages. It renders bridges capable of becoming a portable manufacture, as they may, on this construction, be made and sent to any part of the world ready to be erected ; and at the same time that it greatly increases the magnificence, elegance, and beauty of bridges, it considerably lessens their expense, and their appearance by re-painting will be ever new; and as they may be erected in all situations where stone bridges can be erected, they may, moreover, be erected in certain situations, where, on account of ice, infirm foundations in the beds of rivers, low shores, and va- rious other causes, stone bridges cannot be erected. The last con- MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 45 venience, and whicli is not inconsiderable, that I shall mention is, that after they are erected, they may very easily be taken down without any injury to the materials of the construction, and be re- erected elsewhere. I am, sir, Your much obliged, And obedient humble servant, THOMAS PAINE. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. PREFACE TO GENERAL LEE'S MEMOIRS. The following Memoirs and Letters of the late Major-General Lee have been in the possession of the Editor since the year 1786. They were transmitted from America to England by the gentleman whose name is subscribed to the Memoirs, and who was a member of Congress for the state of Georgia, for the purpose of publica- tion. In their manuscript state they have been seen by several persons in England, who expressed a strong desire of putting them to press, which the avocations of the person to whom they were entrusted, and his not being acquainted with such undertakings, had caused hiui to neglect. As the subject of Revolutions is again renewed by what has oc- curred in France, it is presumed, that whatever relates to the Mo- ther-Revolution, that of America, will, at least, afford entertainment to the curious, and contribute to increase the general stock of his- torical knowledge. The reader may expect to find, in almost every thing that relates to General Lee, a great deal of the strong republican character. His attachment to principles of liberty, without regard to place, made him the citizen of the world rather than of any country ; and from his earliest youth to the end of his career, this general trait in his character may be traced. So little of the courtier had he about him, that he never descend- ed to intimate any thing. Whatever he spoke or wrote was in the fullest style of expression, or strong figure. He used to say to Mr. Paine, the author of Common Scnse^ in America, and since of RigJits of Man, in England, (of whose writings he was a great admirer,) that " he hurst forth upon the ivorld like Jove in thun- der ;" and this strength of conception, so natural to General Lee, had it not been mixed with a turn equally as strong for satire, and too much eccentricity of temper, would have rendered his conver- sation perpetually entertaining. Though the Memoirs and every letter in this publication are most faithfully printed from the copy transmitted from America, MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. A7 the Editor has omitted many whole letters, and also his trial be- fore the court-martial, as not sufficiently interesting to balance the expense to which they would have extended the work. But if any of the particular friends or relations of General Lee should be desirous of seeing them, they may be indulged with the opportun- ity, by leaving a line at the publisher's, directed to the EDITOR. London, Feb. 1792. 48 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. TO FORGETFULNESS. From " the Castle in the Air,''"' to " the Little Corner of the WorWr Memory, like a beauty that is always present to hear herself flattered, is flattered by every one. But the absent and silent god- dess, Forgetfulness, has no votaries, and is never thought of: yet we owe her much. She is the goddess of ease, though not of pleasure. When the mind is like a room hung with black, and every corner of it crowded with the most horrid images imagination can create, this kind speechless goddess of a maid, Forgetfulness, is following us night and day with her opium wand, and gently touching first one, and then another, benumbs them into rest, and at last glides them away with the silence of a departing shadow. It is thus the tor- tured mind is restored to the calm condition of ease, and fitted for happiness. How dismal must the picture of life appear to the mind in that dreadful moment, when it resolves on darkness, and to die ! One can scarcely believe such a choice was possible. Yet how many of the young and beautiful, timid in every thing else, and formed for delight, have shut their eyes upon the world, and made the waters their sepulchral bed ! Ah ! would they in that crisis, when life and death are both before them, and each within their reach, would (hey but think, or try to think, that Forgetfulness will come to their re- lief, and lull them into ease, they could stay their hand, and lay hold of life. But there is a necromancy in wretchedness that entombs the mind, and increases the misery, by shutting out every ray ol light and hope. It makes the wretched falsely believe they will be wretched ever. It is the most fatal of all dangerous delusions ; and it is only when this necromantic night-mare of the mind begins to vanish, by being resisted, that it is discovered to be but a tyrannic spectre. All grief, like all things else, will yield to the obliterating power of time. While despair is preying on the mind, time and MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 49 its effects are preying on despair ; and certain it is, the dismal vision will fade away, and Forgetfiilness, with her sister Ease, will change the scene. Then let not the wretched be rash, but wait, painful as the struggle may be, the arrival of Forgetfulness ; for it will certainly arrive. I have twice been present at the scene of attempted suicide. The one a love-distracted girl in England, the other of a patriotic friend in France ; and as the circumstances of each are strongly pictured in my memory, I will relate (hem to you. They will in some measure corroborate what I have said of Forgetfulness. About the year 17C6, I was in Lincolnshire, in England, and on a visit at the house of a widow lady, Mrs. E , at a small vil- lage in the fens of that county. It was in summer; and one eve- ning after supper, Mrs. E and myself went to take a turn in the garden. It was about eleven o'clock, and to avoid the night air of the fens, we were walking in a bower, shaded over with hazel bushes. On a sudden, she screamed out, and cried "Lord! look, look!" I cast my eyes thrnugli the openings of the liazel bushes, in the direction she was looking, and saw a white shapeless figure, without head or arms, moving along one of the walks at some distance from us. I quitted Mrs. E , and went after it. When I got into the walk where the figure was, and was following it, it took up another walk. There was a holly bush in the corner of the two walks, which, it being night, I did not observe ; and as I continued to step forward, the holly bush came in a straight line between me and the figure, and I lost sight of it ; and as I passed along one walk, and the figure the other, the holly bush still continued to intercept the view, so as to give the appearance that the figure had vanished. When I came to the corner of the two walks, I caught sight of it again, and coming up with it, I reached out my hand to touch it; and in the act of doing this, the idea struck me, will my hand pass through the air, or shall I feel any thing 1 Less than a moment would decide this, and my hand rested on the shoulder of a human figure. I spoke, but do not recollect what I said. It answered in a low voice, " Pray let me alone." I then knew who it was. It was a young lady who was on a visit to Mrs. E , and who, when we sat down to supper said she found herself extremely ill, and would go to bed. I called to Mrs. E , who came, and I said to her, " It is Miss N ." Mrs. E said, " My God ! I hope Vou are not going to do yourself any hurt ;" for Mrs. E sus- 50 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. pected something. She rephed with pathetic melancholy, " Life has not one pleasure for me." We got her into the house, and Mrs. E took her to sleep with her. The case was, the man whom she expected to be married to, had forsaken her, and when she heard he was to be married to another, the shock appeared to her to be too great to be borne. She had retired, as I have said, to her room, and when she supposed all the family were gone to bed, (which would liave been the case, if Mrs. £ and I had not walked into the garden,) she undressed her- self, and tied her apron over her head ; which descending below her waist, gave her the shapeless figure I liave spoken of. Aided by the obscurity of almost midnight, and with this and a white under petticoat and slippers, for she had taken out her buckles, and put them at the servant maid's door, I suppose as a keepsake, ■she came down stairs, and was going to drown herself in a pond at the bottom of the garden, towards which she was going when JNIrs. E screamed out. We found afterwards, that she had heard the scream, and that was the cause of iier changing her walk. By gentle usage, and leading her into subjects that might, without doing violence to her feelings, and without letting her see the di- rect intention of it, steal her as it were from the horror she was in, (and I felt a compasionate, earnest disposition to do it, for she was a good girl,) she recovered her former cheerfulness, and was after- wards a happy wife, and the mother of a family. The other case, and the conclusion in my next. In Paris, in 1793, 1 had lodgings in the Rue Fauxbourg, St. Denis, No. 63. They were the most agreeable, for situation, of an}^ I ever had in Paris, except that they were too remote from the Conven- tion, of which I was tiien a member. But this was recompensed by their being also remote from the alarms and confusion into which the interior of Paris was then often thrown. The news of those things used to arrive to us, as if we were in a state of tranquility in the country. The house, which was enclosed by a wall and gate- way from the street, was a good deal like an old mansion farm house, and the court yard was like a farm yard, stocked with fowls, ducks, turkies, and geese ; which, for amusement, we used to feed out of the parlor window on the ground floor. There were some hutches for rabbits, and a sty with two pigs. Beyond, was a garden of more than an acre of ground, well laid out, and stocked with ex- MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 51 cellent fruit trees. The orange, apricot, and greengage plum, were the best I ever tasted ; and it is the only place where I saw the wild cucumber. The place had formerly been occupied by some curious person. My apartments consisted of three rooms ; the first, for wood, wa- ter, &c., with an old fashioned closet chest, high enough to hang up clothes in ; the next was the bed room ; and beyond it the sitting room, which looked into tlie garden through a glass.door ; and on the outside there was a small landing place railed in, and a flight of narrow stairs almost hidden by the vines that grew over it, by which 1 could descend into the garden, without going down stairs through the house. I am trying by description to make you see the place in your mind, because it will assist the story I have to tell ; and which I think you can do, because you once called upon me there on account of Sir , who was then, as I was soon afterwards, in arrestation. But it was winter when you came, and it is a sum- mer scene I am describing. * * # * I went into my chamber to write and sign a certificate for them,* which I intended to take to the guard house to obtain their release. Just as I had finished it a man came into my room dressed in the Parisian uniform of a captain, and spoke to me in good English, and widi a good address. He told me that two young men, English- men, were arrested and detained in the guard house, and that the section, (meaning those who represented and acted for the section,) had sent him to ask me if I knew them, in which :ase they would be liberated. This matter being soon settled between us, he talked to me about the Revolution, and something about the "Rights of Man," which he had read in English; and at parting o^ered me in a polite and civil manner, his services. And who do you think the man was that offered me his services 1 It was no other than the public executioner Samson, who guillotined tlie king, and all who were guillotined in Paris ; and who lived in the same section, and in the same street with me. * * « « As to myself, I used to find some relief by walking alone in the garden after dark, and cursing with hearty good will, the authors of that terrible system that had turned the character of the Revolution I had been proud to defend. • Mr. Paine here alludes to two friends who were under arrest. Ed. 5^ MISCFLLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. I went but little to the Convention, and then only to make my appearance; because I found it impossible to join in their tremend- ous decrees, anJ useless and dangerous to oppose them. My hav- ing voted and spoken extensively, more so than any other member, against the execution of the king, had already fixed a mark tpon me: neither dared any of my associates in the Convention to trans- late and speak in French for me, any thing I might have dared to have written. * # ♦ * Pen and ink were then of no use to me : no good could be done by writing, and no printer dared to print; and whatever I might have written for my private amusement, as anecdotes of the times, would have been continually exposed to be examined, and tortured into any meaning that the rage of party might fix upon it; ami as to softer subjects, my heart was in distress at the fate of my friends, and my harp hung upon the weeping willows. As it was summer, we spent most of our time in the garden, and passed it away in those childish amusements that serve to keep re- flection from the mind, such as marbles, scotch hops, battledores, &c., at which we were all pretty expert. In this retired manner we remained about six or seven weeks, and our landlord went every evening into tlie city to bring us the news of the day, and the evening joiu-nal. I have now, my " Little Corner of the World," led you on, step by step, to the scene that makes the sequel to this narrative, and I will put that scene before your eyes. You shall see it in description as I saw it in fact.* * « » « He recovered, and being anxious to get out of France, a pass- port was obtained for him and Mr. Choppin : they received it late in the evening, and set off the next morning for Basle before four, from which place I had a letter from them, highly pleased with their escape from France, into which they had entered with an enthusi- asm of patriotic devotion. Ah, France ! thou hast ruined the cha- racter of a Revolution virtuously begun, and destroyed those who produced it. I might almost say like Job's servant, " and I only am escaped." Two days after they were gone I heard a rapping at the gate, * The second instance of attempted suicide is omitted from motives of personal delicacy. Mr. Paine's letter is continued, as it contains an account of bis mode of life before he was sent to prison, &.c. Ed. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 53 and looking out of the window of the bed room, I saw the landlord going with the candle to the gate, which he opened, and a guard with niusquets and fixed bayonets entered. I went to bed again, and made up my mind for prison, for I was then the only lodger. It was a guard to take up , but, I thank God, they were out of their reach. The guard came about a month after in the night, and took away the landlord, Georgeit ; and the scene in the house finished with the arrestation of myself. This was soon after you called on me, and sorry I was it was not in ray power to render to ■ the service that you asked. I have now fulfilled my engagement, and I hope your expectation, in relating the case of , landed back on the shore of life, by the mistake of the pilot, who was conducting him out ; and pro- served afterwards from prison, perhaps a worse fate, without know- ing it himself. You say a story cannot be too melancholy for you. This is in- teresting and affecting, but not melancholy. It may raise in your mind a sympathetic sentiment in reading it ; and though it may start a tear of pity, you will not have a tear of sorrow to drop on the page. * # * * Here, my contemplative correspondent,'' let us stop and look back upon the scene. The matters here related being all facts, aro strongly pictured in my mind, and in this sense, Forgetfulness does not apply. But facts and feelings are distinct things, and it is against feelings that the opium wand of Forgetfulness draws us into ease. Look back on any scene or subject that once gave you dis- tress, for all of us have felt somo, and you will find, that though the remembrance of the fact is not extinct in your memory, the feeling is extinct in your mind. You can remember when you had felt distress, but you cannot feel that distress again, and perhaps will wonder you felt it then. It is like a shadow that loses itself by light. It is often difficult to know what is a misfortune : that which we feel as a great one today, may be the means of turning aside our steps into some new path that leads to happiness yet unknown. In tracing the scenes of my own life, I can discover that the condition I now enjoy, which is sweet to me, and will be more so when I get to America, except by the loss of your society, has been produced, 54 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. in the first instance, in ray being disappointed in former projects. Under that impenetrable veil, Futurity, we know not what is con- cealed, and the day to arrive is hidden from us. Turning then our thoughts to those cases of despair that lead to suicide, when, "the mind," as you say, " neither sees nor hears, and holds counsel only with itself; when the very idea of consolation would add to the toi- ture, and self destruction is its only aim," what, it may be asked, is the best advice, what the best relief; I answer seek it not in reason, for the mind is at war with reason, and to reason ag;iin.>,t feelings is as vain as to reason against fire : it serves only to tcr- ture the torture, by adding reproach to horror. All reasoning u ilh ourselves in such cases acts upon us like the reason of anotlier pci - son, which, however kindly done, serves but to insult the misorv we suffer. If Reason could remove the pain. Reason would have pi e- vented it. If she could not do the one, how is she to perform the other 1 In all such cases we must look upon Reason as dispossess- ed of her empire, by a revolt of the mind. She retires herself to a distance to weep, and the ebony sceptre of Despair rules nionc. All that Reason can do is to suggest, to hint a thought, to siirnily a wish, to cast now and then a kind of bewailing look, to hold np, when she can catch the eye, the miniature shaded portrait of Ilopn; and though dethroned, and can dictate no more, to wait upon us in the humble station of a handmaid. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 55 TO A GENTLEMAN AT NEW YORK. Sir, New Rochelle, Blarch 20, 1806. I WILL inform you of what I know respecting General Miranda, with whom I first became acquainted, at New York, about the year 1783. He is a man of talents and enterprize, a Mexican by birth, and the whole of his life has been a life of adventures. I went to Europe from New York, in April, 1787, Mr. Jefferson was then minister from America to France, and Mr. Littlepage, a Virginian, (whom John Jay knows,) was agent for the king of Po- land, at Paris. Mr. Littlepage was a young man of extraordinary talents, and I first met with him at Mr. Jefferson's house at dinner. By his inti- macy with the king of Poland, to wliom also he was chamberlain, he became well acquainted with the plans and projects of the Northern Powers of Europe. He told me of Miranda's getting himself introduced to the Empress Catherine of Russia, and obtain- ing a sum of money from her, four thousand pounds sterling ; but it did not appear to me what the object was for which the money was given ; it appeared as a kind of retaining fee. After I had published the first part of the "Rights of Man," ia England, in the year 1791, 1 met Miranda at the house of TurnbuU and Forbes, merchants, Devonshire square, London. He had been a little time before this in the employ of Mr. Pitt, with respect to the affair of Nootka Sound, but I did not at that time know it ; and I will, in the course of this letter, inform you how this connection between Pitt and Miranda ended; for I know it of my own knowledge. I published the second part of the " Rights of Man," in London, in February, 1792, and I. continued in London till I was elected a mem- ber of the French Convention, in September of that year; and went from London to Paris to take my seat in the Convention, which was to meet the 20th of that montli; I arrived at Paris on the 19th. After the Convention met, Miranda came to Paiis, and was ap- pointed general of the French army, under General Dumourier; but as the affairs of that army went wrong in the beginning of the year 1793, Miranda was suspected, and was brouglu under arrest 5Q MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. to Paris, to take his trial. He summoned me to appear to his character, and also a Mr. Thomas Christie, connected with the house of Turnbull and Forbes 1 gave my testimony as I believed, which was, tliat his leading object wus, and had been, the emanci- pation of his country, Mexico, from the bondage of Spain ; for I did not, at that time, know of his engagements with Pitt. Mr. Christie's evidence went to show that Miranda did not come to France as a necessitous adventurer ; but believed he came from public spirited motives, and that lie had a large sum of money in the hands of Turnbull and Forbes. The house of Turnbull and Forbes was then in a contract to supply Paris with flour. Miranda was acquitted. A few days after his acquittal he came to see me, and in a few days afterwards I returned his visit. He seemed desirous of satis- fving me that he was independent, and that he had money in the hands of Turnbull and Forbes. He did not tell me of his affair with old Catherine of Russia, nor did I tell him that I knew of it. But he entered into conversation with respect to Nootka Sound, and put into my hands several letters of Mr. Pitt's to him on that subject ; amongst which was one that 1 believe he gave me by mis- take, for when I had opened it, and was beginning to read it, ho put forth his hand and said, " O, that is not the letter 1 intended ;*' but as the letter was short, 1 soon got through it, and then returned it to him without making any remarks upon it. The dispute with Spain about Nootka Sound was then compro mised ; and Pitt compromised with Miranda, for his services, by giving him twelve hundred pounds sterling, for this was the contents of the letter. Now if it be true that Miranda brought with him a credit upon certain persons in New York, for sixty thousand pounds sterling, it is not difficult to suppose from what quarter the credit came ; for the opening of any proposals between Pitt and M randa was already made by the aflair of Nootka Sound. Miranda was in Paris when Mr. Munroe arrived there as minis- ter ; and as Miranda wanted to get acquainted with him, I caution- ed Mr. Monroe against him, and told him of the affair of Nootka Sound, and the twelve hundred pounds. You are at liberty to make what use you please of this letter and with my name to it. THOMAS PAINE. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 57 THE CAUSE OF THE YELLOW FEVER, AND THE MEANS OF PREVENTLNG IT, IN PLACES NOT YET INFECTED WITH IT, ADDRESSED TO THE BOARD OF HEALTH IN AMERICA. A GREAT deal has been written respecting the Yellow Fever. First, with respect to its causes, whether domestic or imported. Secondly, on the mode of treating it. What I am going to sugs^est in this essay, is to ascertain some point to begin at, in order to arrive at the cause, and for this pur- pose some preliminary observations are necessary. The Yellow Fever always begins in the lowest part of a popu- lous mercantile town near the water, and continues there, without affecting the higher parts. The sphere, or circuit it acts in, is small, and it rages most where large quantities of new ground have been made by banking out the river, for the purpose of making wharfs. The appearance and prevalence of the Yellow Fever in these places, being those where vessels arrive from the West Indies, has caused the belief that the Yellow Fever was imported fiom thence: but here are two cases acting in the same place ; the one, the con- dition of the ground at the wharfs, which being new made on the muddy and filthy bottom of the river, is different from the natural condition of the ground in the higher parts of the city, and conse- quently subject to produce a different kind of effluvia or vapor: the other case, is the arrival of vessels from the West Indies. In the State of Jersey, neither of these cases has taken place ; no shipping arrive there, and consequently there have been no em- bankments for the purpose of wharfs, and the Yellow Fever has never broke out in Jerse\'. This, however, does not decide the point, as to the immediate cause of the fever, but it shows that this species of fever is not common to the country in its natural state ; and, I believe the same was the case in the West Indies, before embankments began, for the purpose of making wharfs, which al- ways alter the natural condition of the ground ; no old history, that I know of, mentions such a disorder as the Yellow Fever. 58 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. A person seized with the Yellow Fever in an affected part of the town, and brought into the healthy part, or into the country, and among healthy persons, does not communicate it to the neighbor- hood, or to those immediately around him ; why then are we to suppose it can be brought from the West Indies, a distance of more than a thousand miles, since we see it cannot be carried from one town to another, nor from one part of a town to another, at home? Is it in the air"? this question on the case, requires a minute ex- amination. In the first place", the difference between air and wind is the same as between a stream of water and a standing water. A stream of water is water in motion, and wind is air in motion. In a gentle breeze, the whole body of air, as far as the breeze ex- tends, moves at the rate of seven or eight miles an hour; in a high wind, at the rate of seventy, eighty, or an hundred miles an hour : when we see the shadow of a cloud gliding on the surface of the ground, we see the rate at which the air moves, and it must be a good trotting horse that can keep pace with the shadow, even in a gentle breeze ; consequently, a body of air, that is in and over any place of the same extent as the affected part of a city may be, will, in the space of an hour, even at the moderate rate I speak of, be moved seven or eight miles to leeward, and its place, in and over the city, will be supplied by a new body of air coming from a healthy part, seven or eight miles distant the contrary way, and then on in continual succession. The disorder, therefore, is not in the air, considered in its natural state, and never stationary. This leads to another consideration of the case. An impure effluvia, arising from some cause in the ground, in the manner that fermenting liquors produce an effluvia near their sur- face that is fatal to life, will become mixed with the air contiguous to it, and as fast as that body of air moves off, it will impregnate every succeeding body of air, however pure it may be when it ar- rives at the place. The result from this state of the case, is, that the impure air, or vapor, that generates the Yellow Fever, issues from the earth, that is, from the new made earth, or ground raised on the muddy and filthy bottom of the river; and which impregnates every fresh body of air that comes over the place, in like manner as air becomes heated when it approaches or passes over fire, or becomes offensive in smell, when it approaches or passes over a body of corrupt ve- getable or animal matter in a state of putrefaction. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 59 The muddy bottom of rivers contains groat quantities of impure and often inflammable air, (carburetted hydrogen gas,) injurious to life ; and which remains entangled in the mud till let loose from thence by some accident. This air is produced by the dissolution and decomposition of any combustible matter falling into the water and sinking into the mud, of which the following circumstance will serve to give some explanation. In the fall of the year that New York was evacuated, (1783,) General Washington had his head quarters at Mrs. Berrian's, at Rocky Hill, in Jersey, and I was there : the Congress then sat at Prince Town. We had several times been told, that the river, or creek, that runs near the bottom of Rocky Hill, and over which there is a mill, might be set on fire, for that was the term the coun- try people used, and as General Washington had a mind to try the experiment, General Lincoln, who was also there, undertook to make preparation for it against the next evening, November 5th. This was to be done, as we were told, by disturbing the mud at the bottom of the river, and holding something in a blaze, as paper or straw, a little above the surface of the water. Colonels Humphries and Cob were at that time Aide de Camps of General Washington, and those two gentlemen and myself got into an argument respecting the cause; their opinion was, that on disturbing the bottom of the river, some bituminous matter arose to the surface, which took fire when the light was put to it ; 1, on ihe contrary, supposed that a quantity of inflammable air was let loose, which ascended through the water, and took fire above the surface. Each party held to his opinion, and the next evening the experi- ment was to be made. A scow had been stationed in the mill dam, and General Wash- ington, General Lincoln, and myself, and I believe Colonel Cob, (for Humphries was sick,) and three or four soldiers with poles, were put on board the scow: General Washington placed himself at one end of the scow, and I at the other ; each of us had a roll of cart- ridge paper, which we lighted and held over the water, about two or three inches from the surface, when the soldiers began disturbing the bottom of the river with their poles. As General Washington sat at one end of the scow, and I at the other, I could see better any thing that might happen from his light, than 1 could from my own, over which I was nearly perpendicular. When the mud at the bottom was disturbed by the poles, the air 60 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. bubbles rose fast, and I saw the fire take from General Washing- ton's light and descend from thence to the surface of the water, in a similar manner, as when a liglited candle is held so as to touch the smoke of a candle just blown out, the smoke will take fire, and the fire will descend and light up the candle. This was demonstra- tive evidence, that what was called setting the river on fire, was setting the inflammable air on fire, that arose out of the mud. I mentioned this experiment to Mr. Rittenhouse of Philadelphia the next time I went to that city, and our opinion on the case, was that the air or vapor that issued from any combustible matter, (vegetable or otherwise,) that underwent a dissolution and decom- position of its parts, either by fire or water in a confined place, so as not to blaze, would be inflanmiable, and would become flame whenever it came in contact with flame. In order to determine if this was the case, we filled up the breech of a gun barrel about five or six inches with saw dust, and the up- per part with dry sand to the top, and after spiking up the touch hole, put the breech into a smith's furnace, and kept it red hot, so as to consume the saw dust ; the sand of consequence would pre- vent any blaze. We applied a lighted candle to the mouth of the barrel; as the first vapor that flew ofi" would be humid, it extin- guished the candle ; but after applying the candle three or four times, the vapor that issued out began to flash ; we then tied a bladder over the mouth of the barrel, which the vapor soon filled, and then tying a string round the neck of the bladder, above the muzzle, took the bladder off. As we could not conveniently make experiments upon the vapor, while it was in the bladder, the next operation was, to gel it into a phial; for this purpose, we took a phial of about three or four ounces, filled it with water, put a cork slightly into it, and introducing it into the neck of the bladder, worked the cork out, by getting hold of it through the bladder, into which the water then emptied itself, and the air in the bladder ascended into the phial ; we then put the cork into the phial, and took it from the bladder. It was now in a convenient condition for experiment. We put a lighted match into the phial, and the air or vapor in it blazed up in the manner of a chimney on fire ; we extinguished it two or three times, by stopping the mouth of the phial ; and putting the lighted match to it again it repeatedly took fire, till the vapor was spent, and the phial became filled with atmospheric air. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 61 These two experiments, that in which some combustible substance (branches and leaves of trees) had been decomposed by water, in the mud ; and this, where the decomposition had been produced by fire, without blazing, shows that a species of air, injurious to life, when taken into the lungs, may be generated from substances, which, in themselves, are harmless. It is by means similar to these, that charcoal, which is made by fire without blazing, emits a vapor destructive to life. I now come to apply these cases, and the reasoning deduced therefrom, to ac- count for the cause of the Yellow Fever.* First : — The Yellow Fever is not a disorder produced by the climate naturally, or it would always have been here in the hot months ; the climate is the same now, as it was fifty or a hundred years ago ; there was no Yellow Fever then, and it is only within the last twelve years, that such a disorder has been known to America. Secondly : — The low grounds on the shores of the rivers, at the cities, where the Yellow Fever is annually generated, and continues about three months without spreading, were not subject to that dis- order in their natural state, or the Indians would have forsaken them ; whereas, they were the parts most frequented by the Indians in all seasons of the year, on account of fishing. The result from these cases is, that the Yellow Fever is produced by some new circum- stance not common to the country in its natural state, and the ques- tion is, what is that new circumstance'? It may be said, that every thing done by the white people, since their settlement in the country, such as building towns, clearing lands, levelling hills, and filling vallies, is a new circumstance, but the Yellow Fever does not accompany any of these new circum- stances. No alteration made on the dry land produces the Yellow Fever, we must therefore look to some other new circumstance, and we now come to those that have taken place between wet and dry, between land and water. The shores of the rivers at New York, and also at Philadelphia, have on account of the vast increase of commerce, and for the sake of making wharves, undergone great and rapid alterations from their natural state, within a few years ; and it is only in such parts of the shores where those alterations have taken place that the * The author does not mean to infer that the inflammable air, or carburetted hydrogen gas, is the cause of the Yellow Fever ; but that perhaps it enters into some combination with miasm generated in low grounds, which pro- duces the disease 62 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. Yellow Fever lias been produced. The parts where little or no alteration has been made, either on the East or North River, and which continue in their natural state, or nearly so, do not produce the Yellow Fever — the fact therefore points to the cause. Besides several newstreets gained from the river by embankment, there are upwards of eighty new wharfs made since the war, and the much greater part within the last ten or twelve years; the con- sequence of which has been, that great quantities of filth or com- bustible matter deposited in the muddy bottom of the river conti- guous to the shore, and which produced no ill effect while exposed to the air, and washed twice every twenty-four hours by the tide water, have been covered over several feet deep with new earth, and pent up, and the tide excluded. It is in these places, and in these only, that the Yellow Fever is produced. Having thus shown, from the circumstances of the case, that the cause of the Yellow Fever is in the place where it makes its ap- pearance, or rather, in the pernicious vapor issuing therefrom, I go to show a method of constructing wharfs, where wharfs are yet to be constructed, as on the shore on the East River, at Corlder's Hook, and also on the North River, that will not occasion the Yel- low Fever, and which may also point out a method of removing it from places already infected with it. Instead, then, of embanking out the river and raising solid wharfs of earth on the mud bottom of the shore, the better method would be to construct wharfs on arches, built of stone ; the tide will then flow in under the arch, by which means the shore, and the muddy bottom, will be washed and kept clean, as if they were in their natural state without wharfs. When wharfs are constructed on the shore lengthways, that is without cutting the shore up into slips, arches can easily be turned, because arches joining each other lengtiiways, serve as hutments to each other, but when the shore is cut up into slips there can be no hutments ; in this case wharfs can be formed on stone pillars, or wooden piles planked over on the top. In either of these cases, the space underneath will be commodious shelter or harbor for small boats, which can come in and go out always, except at low water, and be secure from storms and injuries. This method, be- sides preventing the cause of the Yellow Fever, which I think it will, will render the wharfs more productive than the present method, because of the space preserved within the wharf. I offer no calculation of the expense of constructing wharfs on MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 63 arches or piles; but on a general view, I believe they will not be so expensive as the present method. A very great part of the ex- pense of making solid wharfs of earth, is occasioned by the car- riage of materials, which will be greatly reduced by the methods liere proposed, and still more so were the arches to be constructed of cast iron blocks. I suppose that one ton of cast iron blocks would go as far in the construction of an arch, as twenty tons of stone. If, by constructing wharfs in such a manner, that the tide water can wash the shore and bottom of the river contiguous to the shore, as they are washed in their natural condition, the Yellow FovtT can be prevented from generating in places where wharfs are yet to be constructed, it may point out a method of removing it, at least by degrees, from places already infected with it, which will be, by opening the wharfs in two or three places in each, and letting the tide water pass through; the parts opened can be planked over, so as not to prevent the use of the wharf. In taking up and treating this subject, I have considered it as belonging to natural philosophy, rather than medicinal art; and therefore I say nothing about the treatment of the disease, after it takes place; I leave that part to those whose profession it is to study it. THOMAS PALNE. Ncto York, June 27, 1806. 64 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. TO A FRIEND. New Rochelh, July 9, it5U4. Fellow Citizen, As the weather is now getting hot in New York, and the people begin to get out of town, you ma}' as well come up here and help me to settle my accounts whh the man who lives on the place. You will be able to do this better than I shall, and in the mean time I can go on with my literary works, Avithout having my mind taken off by affairs of a different kind. I have received a packet from Governor Clinton, enclosing what I wrote for. If you come up by the stage, you will stop at the post office, and they will direct you the way to the farm. It is only a pleasant walk. I send a piece for the Prospect ; if the plan mentioned in it is pursued, it will open a way to enlarge and give establishment to the deistical church ; nut of tnis and some other things, we will talk when you come up, and the sooner the better. Yours in friendship, THOMAS PAINE. I have not received any newspapers, nor any numbers of the Prospect, since I have been here. Bring my bag up with you. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 65 ADDRESS AND DECLARATION. At a select Meeting of the Friends of Universal Peace and Li- bertt/, held at the Thatched House Tavern, St. Jameses Street^ August 20, 1791, the following Address and Declaration to our Fellow Citizens was agreed on and ordered to be published. Friends and Fellow Citizens, At a moment like the present, when wilful misrepresentations are industriously spread by the partizans of arbitrary power, and the advocates of passive obedience and court government, we think it incumbent on us to declare to the world our principles, and the motives of our conduct. We rejoice at the glorious event of the French Revolution. If it be asked — What is the French Revolution to us % We answer, (as it has been already answered in another place,*) It is much to us as men : much to us as Englishmen. As men we rejoice in the freedom of twenty-five millions of our fellow men. We rejoice in the prospect which such a magnificent example opens to the world. We congratulate the French nation for having laid the axe to the root of tyranny, and for erecting go- vernment on the sacred hereditary rights of man — Rights which appertain to all, and not to any one more than to another. We know of no human authority superior to that of a whole nation ; and we profess and proclaim it as our principle that every nation has at all times an inherent indefeasible right to constitute and es- tablish such government for itself as best accords with its disposi- tion, interest, and happiness. As Englishmen we also rejoice, because we are immediately in- terested in the French Revolution. Without enquiring into the justice on either side of the reproach- ful charges of intrigue and ambition, which the English and French Courts have constantly made on each other, we confine ourselves to this observation : — That if the Court of France only was in • Declaration of the Volunteers of Belfast. 00 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. fault, and the numerous wars which have distressed both countries, are chargeable to her alone, that Court now exists no longer ; and the cause and the'consequence must cease together. The French, therefore, by the revolution they have made, have conquered for us as well as for themselves ; if it be true that their Court only was in fault, and ours never. On this state of the case, the French Revolution concerns us immediately. We are oppressed with a heavy national debt, a bur- then of taxes, and an expensive administration of government, be- yond those of any people in the world. We have also a very numerous poor; and we hold that the moral obligation of providing for old age, helpless infancy, and poverty, is far superior to that of supplying the invented wants of courtly extravagance, ambition, and intrigue. We believe there is no instance to be produced but in England, of seven millions of inhabitants, which make but little more than one million of families, paying yearly seventeen millions of taxes. As it has always been held out by all administrations that the restless ambition of the Court of France rendered this expense necessary to us for our own defence, we consequently rejoice as men deeply interested in the French Revolution, for that Court, as we have already said, exists no longer ; and consequently the same enormous expenses need not continue to us. Thus rejoicing, as we sincerely do, both as men and Englishmen, as lovers of universal peace and freedom, and as friends to our own national prosperity, and a reduction of our public expenses, we cannot but express our astonishment that any part, or any members of our own government, should reprobate the extinction of that very power in France, or wish to see it restored, to whose influence they formerly attributed (whilst they appeared to lament) the enor- mous increase of our own burthens and taxes. What, then, are they sorry that the pretence for new oppressive taxes, and the oc- casion for continuing many of the old taxes, will be at an end? If so, and if it is the policy of courts and of court governments, to prefer enemies to friends, and a system of war to that of peace, as affording more pretences for places, offices, pensions, revenue, and 'taxation, it is high time for the people of every nation to look with circumspection to their own interests. Those who pay the expense, and not those who participate in the emoluments arising from it, are the persons immediately interested MISCELLANEOUS LETTEES AND ESSAYS. 67 in inquiries of this kind. We are a part of that national body, on whom this annual expense of seventeen millions falls ; and we con- sider the present opportunity of the French Revolution as a most happy one for lessening the enormous load under which this nation groans. If this be not done, we shall then have reason to conclude, that the cry of intrigue and ambition against other courts, is no more than the common cant of all courts. We think it also necessary to express our astonishment that a government, desirous of being called free, should prefer connection with the most despotic and arbitrary powers in Europe. We know of none more deserving this description than those of Turkey and Prussia, and the whole combination of German despots. Separated as we happily are by nature, from the tumults of the Continent, we reprobate all systems and intrigues which sacrifice (and that too at a great expense) the blessings of our natural situation. Such sys- tems cannot have a national origin. If we are asked, what government is? — We hold it to be nothing more than a national association, and we hold that to be the best which secures to every man his rights, and promotes the great- est quantity of happiness with the least expense. We live to improve, or we live in vain ; and therefore we admit of no maxims of government or policy on the mere score of anti- quity, or other men's authority, the old whigs or the new. We will exercise the reason with which we are endued, or we possess it unworthily. As reason is given at all times, it is for the purpose of being used at all times. Among the blessings which the French Revolution has produced to that nation, we enumerate the abolition of the feudal system of injustice and tyranny on the 4th of August^ 1789. Beneath the feudal system all Europe has long groaned, and from it England is not yet free. Game laws, borough tenures, and tyrannical mono- polies of numerous kinds, still remain amongst us ; but rejoicing as we sincerely do, in the freedom of others, till we shall happily ac- complish our own, we intended to commemorate this prelude to the universal extirpation of the feudal system, by meeting on the anni- versary of that day (the 4th of August) at the Crown and Anchor. From this meeting we were prevented by the interference of cer- tain unnamed and slculking persons with the master of the Tavern, who informed us, that on their representations he could not receive us. Let those who live by, or countenance feudal oppressions, 68 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. take the reproach of this ineffectual meanness and cowardice to themselves. They cannot stifle the public declaration of our honest, open, and avowed opinions. These are our principles, and these our sentiments. They em- brace the interest and happiness of the great body of the nation of which we are a part. As to riots and tumults, let those answer for them, who, by wilful misrepresentations, endeavor to excite and pro- mote them ; or who seek to stun the sense of the nation, and to lose the great cause of public good in the outrages of a misinformed mob. We take our ground on principles that require no such riotous aid. We have nothing to apprehend from the poor; for we are pleading their cause. And we fear not proud oppression, for we have truth on our side. We say, and we repeat it, that the French Revolution opens to the world an opportunity in which all good citizens must rejoice — that of promoting the general happiness of man. And that it moreover offers to this country in particular, an opportunity of reducing our enormous taxes. These are our objects, and we will pursue them. J. HORNE TOOKE, Chairman. ON THE CONSTRUCTION OF IRON BRIDGES. As bridges, and the method of constructing them, are becom- ing objects of great importance throughout the United States, and as there are at this time proposals for a bridge over the Delaware, and also a bridge beginning to be erected over the Schuylkill at Philadelphia, I present the public with some account of the con- struction of iron bridges. The following memoir on that subject, written last winter at the federal city, was intended to be presented to congress. But as the session would necessarily be short, and as several of its mem- bers would be replaced by new elections at the ensuing session, it was judged better to let it lie over. In the mean time, on account of the bridges now in contemplation, or began, I give the memoir the opportunity of appearing before the public, and the persons concerned in those works. THOMAS PAINE. Bordentown, JS'ew-Jersey, June, 1803. TO THE CONGRESS OF THE UNITED STATES. I HAVE deposited in the office of the secretary of state, and under the care of the patent office, two models of iron bridges ; the one in paste-board, the other cast in metal. As they will show, by inspection, the manner of constructing iron bridges, I shall not take up the time of congress with a description of them. My intention in presenting this memoir to congress, is to put the country in possession of the means and of the right of making use of the construction freely ; as I do not intend to take any patent right for it. As America abounds in rivers that interrupt the land communi- cation, and as by violence of floods, and the breaking up of the ice in the spring, the bridges depending for support from the bot- tom of the river, are frequently carried away, I turned mj 70 ON THE CONSTRUCTION attention, after the revolutionary war was over, to find a method of constructing an arch, that might, without rendering the height inconvenient or the ascent diflScult, extend at once from shore to shore, over rivers of three, four, or five hundred feet, and proba- bly more. The principle I took to begin with, and work upon, was that the small segment of a large circle was preferable to the great segment of a small circle. The appearance of such arches, and the manner of forming and putting the parts together, admit of many varieties, but the principle will be the same in all. The bridge architects that I conversed with in England denied the principle, but it was generally supported by mathematicians, and experiment has now established the fact. In 1786, I made three models, partly at Philadelphia, but mostly at Bordentown in the state of New-Jersey. One model was in wood, one in cast iron, and one in wrought iron connected with blocks of wood, representing cast iron blocks, but all on the same principle, that of the small segment of a large circle. I took the last mentioned one with me to France in 1787, and presented it to the academy of sciences at Paris for their opinion of it. The academy appointed a committee of three of their own body — Mons. Le Roy, the abbe Bossou, and Mens. Borda. The first was an acquaintance of Dr. Franklin, and of Mr. Jefferson, then minister at Paris. The two others were celebrated as mathematicians. I presented it as a model for a bridge of a single arch of 400 feet span over the river Schuylkill at Philadel- phia. The committee brought in a report which the academy adopted — that an arch on the principle and construction of the model, in their opinion, might be extended 400 feet, the extent proposed. In September of the same year, I sent the model to Sir Joseph Banks, president of the Royal Society in England, and soon after went there myself. In order to ascertain the truth of the principle on a larger scale, than could be shown by a portable model of five or six feet in length, I went to the iron foundery of Messrs. Walkers, at Rotherham, county of Yorkshire, in England, and had a complete rib of 90 feet span and 5 feet of height from the cord line to the centre of the arch, manufactured and erected. It was a segment of a circle of 410 feet diameter: and until this was done, no OF IRON BRIDGES. 71 experiment on a circle of such an extensive diameter had ever been made in architecture, or the practicabihty of it supposed. The rib was erected between a wall of a furnace belonging to the iron works, and the gable end of a brick building, which serv ed as hutments. The weight of iron in the rib, was three tons, and we loaded it with double its weight in pig iron. I wrote to Mr. Jefferson, who was then at Paris, an account of this experi- ment ; and also Sir Joseph Banks in London, who in his answer to me says — " I look for many other bold improvements from your countrymen, the Americans, who think with vigor, and are not fettered with the trammels of science before they are capable of exerting their mental faculties to advantage." On the success of this experiment, I entered into an agreement with the iron- founders at Rotherham to cast and manufacture a complete bridge, to be composed of five ribs of 210 feet span, and 5 feet of height from the cord line, being a segment of a circle 610 feet diameter, and send it to London, to be erected as a specimen for establish- ing a manufactory of iron bridges, to be sent to any part of the world. The bridge was erected at the village of Paddington, near Lon- don, but being in a plain field, where no advantage could be taken of hutments without the expense of building them, as in the former case, it served only as a specimen of the practicability of a manufactory of iron bridges. It was brought by sea, packed in the hold of a vessel, from the place where it was made ; and after standing a year was taken down, without injury to any of its parts, and might be erected any where else. At this time my bridge operations became suspended. Mr. Edmund Burke published his attack on the French revolution and the system of representative government, and in defence of gov- ernment by hereditary succession, a thing which is in its nature an absurdity, because it is impossible to make wisdom hereditary ; and therefore, so far as wisdom is necessary in a government, it must be looked for where it can be found. Sometimes in one family*, sometimes in another. History informs us that the son of Solomon was a fool. He lost ten tribes out of twelve.* There are those in later times who lost thirteen. The publication of this work by Mr. Burke, absurd in its prin- ciples and outrageous in its manner, drew me, as I have said, from * 2 Chron. chap. 10. f^ ON THE CONSTRUCTION my bridge operations, and my time became employed in defend- ing a system then established and operating in America, and which I wished to see peaceably adopted in Europe — I therefore ceased my work on the bridge to employ myself on the more necessary work, Rights of Man, in answer to Mr. Burke. In 1792, a convention was elected in France for the express purpose of forming a constitution on the authority of the people, as had been done in America, of which convention I was elected a member. I was at this time in England, and knew nothing of my being elected till the arrival of the person who was sent officially to inform me of it. During my residence in France, which was from 1792 to 1802, an iron bridge of 236 feet span, and 34 of height from the cord line, was erected over the river near Wear at the town of Sunder- land, in the county of Durham in England. It was done chiefly at the expense of the two members of parliament for that county, Milbanke and Burden. It happened that a very intimate friend of mine, Sir Robert Smith (who was also an acquaintance of Mr. Monroe, the Ameri- can minister, and since of Mr. Livingston) was then at Paris. He had been a colleague in parliament, with Milbanke, and sup- posing that the persons who constructed the iron bridge at Sunderland, had made free with my model, which was at the iron works where the Sunderland bridge was cast, he wrote to Mil- banke on the subject, and the following is that gentleman's answer. " With respect to the iron bridge over the river Wear at Sun- derland, it certainly is a work well deserving admiration, both for its structure and utility, and I have good grounds for saying that the first idea was suggested by Mr. Paine's bridge exhibited at Paddington. What difference there may be in some part of the structure, or in the proportion of wrought and cast iron, I cannot pretend to say, Burdon having undertaken to build the bridge, in consequence of his having taken upon himself whatever the ex- pense might be beyond between three and four thousand pounds sterling, subscribed by myself and some other gentlemen. But whatever the mechanism might be, it did not supersede the neces- sity of a centre.* (The writer has here confounded a centre * It 13 the technical term, meaning the boards and numbers which form the arch upon which the permanent materials are laid ; when a bridge is finished the workmen say they are ready to strike centre, tliat is to take do-wTi the scaffolding. OF IRON BRIDGES. 73 with a scaffolding) which centre (continues the writer) was esteemed a very ingenious piece of workmanship, and taken from a plan sketched out by Mr. Nash, an architect of great merit, who had been consulted in the outset of the business, when a bridge of stone was in contemplation. " With respect therefore to any gratuity to Mr. Paine, though ever so desirous of rewarding the labors of an ingenious man, I do not feel, how, under the circumstances already described, I have it in my power, having had nothing to do with the bridge after Jie payment of my subscription, Mr. Burdon then becoming accountable for the whole. But if you can point out any mode, according to which it would be in my power to be instrumental in procuring him any compensation for the advantages the public may have derived from his ingenious model, from which certainly the outline of the bridge at Sunderland was taken, be assured it will afford me very great satisfaction.* RA. MILBANKE." The year before I left France, the government of that country had it in contemplation to erect an iron bridge over the river Seine, at Paris. As all edifices of public construction came under the cognizance of the minister of the interior, — (and as their plan was to erect a bridge of five iron arches of one hundred feet span each, instead of passing the river with a single arch, and which was going backward in practice, instead of forward, as there was already an iron arch of 230 feet in existence) I wrote the minister of the interior, the citizen Chaptal, a memoir on the construction of iron bridges. The following is his answer. Th&.minister of the interior to the citizen Thomas Paine, I have received, citizen, the observations that you have been so good as to address to me upon the construction of iron bridges. They will be of the greatest utility to us, when the new kind of construction goes to be executed for the first time. With pleasure, I assure you, citizen, that you have rights of more than one kind to the thankfulness of nations, and I give you, cordially, the par- ticular expression of my esteem. | CHAPTAL. * The original is in my possession. t The original, in French, is in my possession. \V 74 ON THE CONSTRUCTION A short time before I left France, a person came to me from London with plans and drawings for an iron bridge of one arch over the river Thames at London, of 60 j feet span, and sixty feet of height from the cord line. The subject was then before a committee of the house of commons, but I know not the pro- ceedings thereon. As this new construction of an ai ch for bridges, and the prin- ciples on which it is founded, originated in America, as the documents I have produced sufficiently prove, and is becoming an object of importance to the world, and to no part of it more than to our own country, on account of its numerous rivers, and as no experiment has been made in America to bring it into practice, further than on the model I have executed myself, and at my own expense, I beg leave to submit a proposal to congress on the subject, which is, To erect an experiment rib of about 400 feet span, to be the segment of a circle of at least 1000 feet diameter, and to let it remain exposed to public view, that the method of constructing such arches may be generally known. It is an advantage peculiar to the construction of iron bridges, that the success of an arch of a given extent and height, can be ascertained without being at the expense of building the bridge ; which is, by the method I propose, that of erecting an experiment rib on the ground where advantage can be taken of two hills for hutments. I began in this manner with the rib of 90 feet span, and 5 feet of height, being a segment of a circle of 410 feet diameter. The undertakers of the Sunderland bridge began in the same manner. They contracted with the iron-founder for a sipgle rib, and finding it to answer, had five more manufactured like it, and erected into a bridge consisting of six ribs, the experiment rib being one. But the Sunderland bridge does not carry the princi- ple much further into practice than had been done by the rib of 90 feet span and 5 feet in height, being, as before said, a segment of a circle of 410 feet diameter ; the Sunderland bridge being 206 feet span and 34 feet of height, gives the diameter of the circle of which it is a segment, to be 444 feet, within a few inches, Avhich is but a larger segment of a circle of 30 feet more diameter. The construction of those bridges does not come within the hne of any established practice of business. The stone architect USEFUL AND ENTERTAINING HINTS. 75 can derive but little from the theory or practice of his art that enters into the construction of an iron bridge ; and the iron- founder, though he may be expert in moulding and casting the parts, when the models are given him, would be at a loss to pro- portion them, unless he was acquainted with all the lines and properties belonging to a circle. ,If it should appear to congress that the construction of iron bridges will be of utility to the country, and they should direct hat an experiment rib be made for that purpose, I will furnish the proportions for the several parts of the work, and give my atten- dance to superintend the erection of it. But, in any case, I have to request, that this memoir may be put on the journals of congress, as an evidence hereafter, that this new method of constructing bridges originated in America. THOMAS PAINE. Federal city, Jan. 3, 1803. N. B. The two models mentioned in the memoir, will, I ex pect, arrive at Philadelphia, by the next packet, from the federal city, and will remain for some time in Mr. Peale's museum. USEFUL A^D EI«fTERTAI]^IN^G HINTS.* "The real value of a thing, Is as much money as 'twill bring." In the possession of the Philadelphia Library Company is a cabinet of fossils, | with several specimens of earth, clay, sand, &c. with some account of each, and where brought from. I have always considered these kind of researches as produc- tive of many advantages, and in a new country they are particu- larly so. As subjects for speculation, they afford entertainment * Published in the Pennsylvania magazme, Feb. 1775. t In the catalogue it is called a collection of American fossils, &c. but a considerable part of them are foreign ones. I presume that the collector, in order to judge the better of such as he might discover here, made first a col- lection of such foreign ones whose value were known, in order to compare by : as his design seems rather bent towards discovering the treasures of America than merely to make a collection. 76 USEFUL AND ENTERTAINING HINTS. to the curious ; but as objects of utility they merit a closer atten tion. The same materials which delight the fossilist, enrich the manufacturer and the merchant. While the one is scientifically examining their structure and composition, the others, by industry and commerce, are transmuting them to gold. Possessed of the power of pleasing, they gratify on both sides ; the one con- templates their natural beauties in the cabinet, the others, their re-created one in the coffer. 'Tis by the researches of the virtuoso that the hidden parts of the earth are brought to light, and from his discoveries of its qualities, the potter, the glassmaker, and numerous other artists, are enabled to furnish us with their productions. Artists, con- sidered merely as such, would have made but a slender progress, had they not been led on by the enterprising spirit of the curious. I am unwilling to dismiss this remark without entering my protest against that unkind, ungrateful and impolitic custom of ridiculing unsuccessful experiments ; and informing those unwise or over- wise pasquinaders, that half the felicities they enjoy, sprung origi- nally from generous curiosity. Were a man to propose, or set out to bore his lands, as a car- penter does a board, he might probably bring on himself a shower of witticisms ; and though he could not be jested at for building castles in the air, yet many magnanimous laughs might break forth at his expense, and vociferously predict the explosion of a mine in his subterraneous pursuits. I am led to this reflection by the present domestic state of America, because it will un- avoidably happen, that before we can arrive at that perfection of things which other nations have acquired, many hopes will fail many whimsical attempts will become fortunate, and many reasonable ones end in air and expense. The degree of im- provement which America has already arrived at, is unparallelec and astonishing, but 'tis miniature to what she will one day boast of, if heaven continue her happiness. We have nearly one whole region yet unexplored : I mean the internal region of the earth. By industry and tillage we have acquired a considerable know- ledge of what America will produce, but very little of what it con- tains. The bowels of the earth have been only slightly inquired into : we seem to content ourselves with such parts of it as arc absolutely necessary, and cannot well be imported, as brick, stone, &c., but have gone very Uttle further, except in the article USEFUL AND ENTERTAINING HINTS. 77 of iron. The glass and the pottery manufactures are yet very imperfect, and will continue so, 'till some curious researcher finds out the proper material. Copper, lead, and tin articles valuable both in their simple state, and as being the component parts of other metals {viz. brass and pewter) are at present but little known throughout the continent in their mineral form : yet I doubt not, but very valu- able mines of them, are daily travelled over in the western parts of America. Perhaps a few feet of surface conceal a treasure sufficient to enrich a kingdom. The value of the interior part of the earth, like ourselves, can- not be judged certainly of by the surface ; neither do the cor- responding strata lie with the unvariable order of the colors of the rainbow, and if they ever did, which I do not believe, age and misfortune have now broken in upon their union ; earthquakes, deluges, and volcanoes have so disunited and re-united them, that in their present state they appear like a world in ruins — yet the ruins are beautiful ; the caverns, museums of antiquity. Though nature is gay, polite, and generous abroad, she is sul- len, rude, and niggardly at home : return the visit, and she admits you with all the suspicion of a miser, and all the reluctance of an antiquated beauty retired to replenish her charms. Bred up in antediluvian notions, she has not yet acquired the European taste of receiving visitants in her dressing-room : she locks and bolts up her private recesses with extraordinary care, as if not only re- solved to preserve her hoards, but to conceal her age, and hide the remains of a face that was young and lovely in the days of Adam. He that would view nature in her undress, and partake of her internal treasures, must proceed with the resolution of a robber, if not a ravisher. She gives no invitation to follow her to the cavern — the external earth makes no proclamation of the in- terior stores, but leaves to chance and industry, the discovery of the whole. In such gifts as nature can annually re-create, she is noble and profuse, and entertains the whole world with the interest of her fortunes ; but watches over the capital with the care of a miser. Her gold and jewels lie concealed in the earth, in caves of utter darkness ; and hoards of wealth, heaps upon heaps, mould in the chests, like the riches of a necromancer's cell. It must be very pleasant to an adventurous speculist to make ex- cursions into these Gothic regions ; and in his travels he maj 78 USEFUL AND ENTERTAINING HINTS. possibly come to a cabinet locked up in some rocky vault, whose treasures shall reward his toil, and enable him to shine on his return, as splendidly as nature herself. By a small degree of attention to the order and origin of things, we shall perceive, that though the surface of the earth produces us the necessaries of life, yet 'tis from the mine we extract the conveniences thereof. Our houses would diminish to wigwams, furnished in the Indian style, and ourselves resemble the building, were it not for the ores of the earth. Agriculture and manufac- tures would wither away for want of tools and implements, and commerce stand still for want of materials. The beasts of the field would elude our power, and the birds of the air get beyond our reach. Our dominion would shrink to a narrow circle ; and our mind itself, partaking of the change, would contract its pros- pects, and lessen into almost animal instinct. Take away but the single article of iron, and half the felicities of life fall with it. Little as we may prize this common ore, the loss of it would cut deeper than the use of it : and by the way of laughing off misfor- tunes 'tis easy to prove, by this method of investigation, that an iron age is better than a golden one. Since so great a portion of our enjoyments is drawn from the mine, it is certainly an evidence of our prudence to inquire and know what our possessions are. Every man's landed property extends to the surtace ot the earth. Why then should he sit down contented with a part, and practise upon his estate those fashionable follies in life, which prefer the superfice to the solid ? Curiosity alone, should the thought occur conveniently, would move an active mind to examine (though not at the bottom) at least to a considerable depth. The propriety and reasonableness of these internal inquiries are continually pointed out to us by numberless occurrences. Accident is almost every day turning out some new secret from the earth. How often has the ploughshare or the spade broken open a treasure, which for ages., perhaps for ever, had lain but just beneath the surface 1 And though every estate have not mines of gold or silver, yet they may contain some strata of valuable earth, proper for manufactures ; and if they have not those, there is a great probability of their having chalk, marl, or some rich soil proper for manure, which only requires to be removed to the surface. USEFUL AND ENTERTAINING HINTS. 79 I have been informed of some land in England being raised to four times its former value by the discovery of a chalk or marl pit, in digging a hole to fix a post in ; and in embanking a meadow in the Jerseys, the laborers threw out with the soil, a fine blue powdered earth, resembling indigo, which, when mixed with oil, was used for paint. — I imagine this vein is now exhausted. Many valuable ores, clays, &c. appear in such rude forms in their natural state, as not even to excite curiosity, much less attention. A true knowledge of their different value can only be obtained by experiment : as soil proper for manure, they may be judged of by the planter ; but as matter, they come under tjie inquiry of the philosopher — this leads me to reflect with inexpressi- ble pleasure, on the numberless benefits arising to a community, by the institution of societies for promoting useful knowledge. The American Philosophical Society, like the Royal Society in England, by having public spirit for its support, and public good for its object, is a treasure we ought to glory m. Here the defec- tive knowledge of the individual is supplied by the common stock. Societies, without endangering private fortunes, are enabled to proceed in their inquiries by analysis and experiment : but indi- viduals are seldom furnished with conveniencies for so doing, and generally rest their opinion on reasonable conjecture. I presume that were samples of different soils from different parts of America, presented to the society for their inspection and examination, it would greatly facilitate our knowledge of the internal earth, and give a new spring both to agriculture and manufactures. These hints are not intended to lament any loss of time, or remissness in the pursuit of useful knowledge, but to furnish mat- ter for future studies ; that while we glory in what we are, we may not neglect what we are to be. Of the present state we may justly say, that no nation under heaven ever struck out in so short a time, and with so much spirit and reputation, into the labyrinth of art and science ; and that, not in the acquisition of knowledge only, but in the happy advantages flowing from it. The world does not at this day exhibit a parallel, neithc- can history produce its equal. ATLANTICUS. Oy THE UTILITY OF MAGAZINES.* In a country whose reigning character is the love of science, it IS somewhat strange that the channels of communication should continue so narrow and limited. The weekly papers are at present the only vehicles of public information. Convenience and necessity prove that the opportunities of acquiring and com- municating knowledge, ought always to enlarge with the circle of population. America has now outgrown the state of infancy : her strength and commerce make large advances to manhood, and science in all its branches has not only blossomed, but even ripen- ed on the soil. The cottages as it were of yesterday have grown to villages, and villages to cities ; and while proud antiquity, like a skeleton in rags, parades the streets of other nations, their genius, as if sickened and disgusted with the phantom, comes hither for recovery. The present enlarged and improved state of things gives every encouragement which the editor of a new magazine can reason- ably hope for. The failure of former ones cannot be drawn as a parallel now. Change of times adds propriety to new measures. In the early days of colonization, when a whisper was almost suf- ficient to have negociated all our internal concerns, the publishing even of a newspaper would have been premature. Those times are past ; and population has established both their use and their credit. But their plan being almost wholly devoted to news and commerce, affords but a scanty residence to the muses. Their path lies wide of the field of science, and has lefl a rich and unexplored region for new adventurers. It has always been the opinion of the learned and curious, that a magazine when properly conducted, is the nursery of genius ; * First published in tlie Pennsylvania Magazine, Jan. 1773. on THE UTILITY OF MAGAZINES. 81 and hy constantly accumulating new matter, becomes a kina of market for wit and utility. The opportunities which it afforos to men of abilities to communicate their studies, kindle up a spirit ot invention and emulation. An unexercised genius soon contracts a kind of mossiness, which not only checks its growth, but abates its natural vigor. Like an untenanted house it falls into decay, and frequently ruins the possessor. The British magazines at their commencement, were the re- positories of ingenuity : they are now the retailers of tale and nonsense. From elegance they sunk to simplicity, from sim- plicity to folly, and from folly to voluptuousness. The Gentle- man's, the London, and the Universal Magazines, bear yet some marks of their originality; but the Town and Country, the Covent-Garden, and Westminster are no better than incentives to profligacy and dissipation. They have added to the dissolution of manners, and supported Venus against the Muses. America yet inherits a large portion of her first-imported virtue. Degeneracy is here almost a useless word. Those who are con- versant with Europe, would be tempted to believe that even the air of the Atlantic disagrees with the constitution of foreign vices ; if they survive the voyage, they either expire on their arrival, or linger away in an incurable consumption. There is a happy something in the climate of America, which disarms them of all their power both of infection and attraction. But while we give no encouragement to the importation of foreign vices, we ought to be equally carefully not to create any. A vice begotten might be worse than a vice imported. . The lat- '.er, depending on favor, would be a sycophant ; the other, by pride of birth would be a tyrant : to the one we should be dupes, to the other slaves. There is nothing which obtains so general an influence over the manners and morals of a people as the press ; from that, as from a fountain, the streams of vice or virtue are poured forth over a country : and of all publications, none are more calculated to improve or infect than a periodical one. All others have their rise and their exit ; but this renews the pursuit. If it has an evil ten- dency, it debauches by the power of repetition ; if a good one, it obtains favor by the gracefulness of soliciting it. Like a lover, it courts its mistress with unabated ardor, nor gives up the pursuit without a conquest. jj 82 ON THE UTILITY OF MAGAZINES. The two capital supports of a magazine are utility and enter- tainment: the first is a boundless path, the other an endless spring. To suppose that arts and sciences are exhausted sub- jects, is doing them a kind of dishonor. The divine mechanism of creation reproves such folly, and shows us by comparison, tho imperfection of our most refined inventions. I cannot believe that this species of vanity is peculiar to the present age only. I have no doubt but that it existed before the flood, and even in the wildest ages of antiquity. 'Tis folly we have inherited, not created ; and the discoveries which every day produce, have greatly contributed to dispossess us of it. Improvement and the world will expire together : and till that period arrives, w6 may plunder the mine, but can never exhaust it 1 That " we have found out every thingy'^ has been the motto of every age. Let our ideas travel a little into antiquity, and we shall find larger por- tions of it than now : and so unwilling were our ancestors to de- scend from tliis mountain of perfection, that when any new dis- covery exceeded the common standard, the discoverer was believed to be in alliance with the devil. It was not the ignorance of the age only, but the vanity of it, which rendered it dangerous to be ingenious. The man who first planned and erected a tenable hut, with a hole for the smoke to pass, and the light to enter, was perhaps called an able architect, but he who first im- proved it with a chimney, could be no less than a prodigy ; yet had the same man been so unfortunate as to have embellished it with glass windows, he might probably have been burnt for a magician.. Our fancies would be highly diverted could we look back, and behold a circle of original Indians haranguing on the subhme perfection of the age : yet 'tis not impossible but future times may exceed us almost as much as we have exceeded them. I would wish to extirpate the least remains of this impoUtic vanity. It has a direct tendency to unbrace the nerves of inven- tion, and is peculiarly hurtful to young colonies. A magazine can never want matter in America if the inhabitants will do justice to their own abilities. Agriculture and manufactures owe much of their improvement in England, to hints first thro^vn out in some of their magazines. Gentlemen whose abilities enabled them to make experiments, frequently chose that method of communica- tion, on account of its convenience. And why should not the same spirit operate in America ] I have no doubt of seeing, in a OI» THE UTILITT OF MAGAZINES. 83 little time, an American magazine full of more useful matter than I ever saw an English one : because we are not exceeded in abilities, have a more extensive field for inquiry, and, whatever may be our political state, our happiness ivill ahcays depend upon ourselves. Something useful will always arise from exercising the inven- tion, though perhaps, like the witch of Endor, we shall raise up a being we did not expect. We owe many of our noblest dis- coveries more to accident than wisdom. In quest of a pebble we have found a diamond, and returned enriched with the treasure. Such happy accidents give additional encouragement to the mak- ing experiments ; and the convenience which a magazine affords, of collecting and conveying them to the public, enhances their utility. Where this opportunity is wanting, many little inventions, the forerunners of improvement, are suffered to expire on the spot that produced them ; and, as an elegant writer beautifully ex- presses on another occasion, " They waste their sweetness on the desert air." In matters of humor and entertainment there can be no reason to apprehend a deficiency. Wit is naturally a volunteer, delights in action, and under proper discipline is capable of great execu- tion. • 'Tis a perfect master in the art of bush-fighting ; and though it attacks with more snbtilty than science, has often de- feated a whole regiment of heavy artillery. — Though I have rather exceeded the line of gravity in this description of wit, I am unwilling to dismiss it without being a little more serious. — 'Tis a qualification which, like the passions, has a natural wildness that requires governing. Left to itself, it soon overflows its banks, mixes with common filth, and brings disrepute on the fountain. We have many valuable springs of it in America, which at present run purer streams, than the generality of it m other countries. In France and Italy, 'tis froth highly fomented : in England it has much of the same spirit, but rather a browner complexion. European wit is one of the worst articles we can import. It has an intoxicating power with it, which debauches the very vitals of chastity, and gives a false coloring to every thing it censures or defends. We soon grow fatigued with the excess, and withdraw like gluttons sickened with intemperance. On the contrary, how happily are the sallies of innocent humor calculated to amuse and 84 ON THE UTILITY OF MAGAZINES. sweeten the vacancy of business ! We enjoy the harmless luxury without surfeiting, and strengthen the spirits by relaxing them. The press has not only a great influence over our manners and morals, but contributes largely to our pleasures ; and a magazine when properly enriched, is very conveniently calculated for this purpose. Volumnious works weary the patience, but here we are invited by conciseness and variety. As I have formerly received much pleasure from perusing these kind of publications, I wish the present success ; and have no doubt of seeing a proper diversity blended so agreeably together, as to furnish out an olio worthy of the company for whom it is designed. I consider a magazine as a kind of bee-hive, which both allures the swarm, and provides room to store their sweets. Its division into cells, gives every bee a province of its own ; and though they all produce honey, yet perhaps they differ in their taste for flowers, and extract with greater dexterity from one than fiom another. Thus, we are not all philosophers^ all artists^ nor all poets. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. 85 TO ELIHU PALMER. Paris, Fehruary 21, 1802, Dear Friend, since the Fable of Christ. I received, by Mr. Livingston, the letter you wrote to me, and ihe excellent work [the Principles of Nature] you have published. I see you have thought deeply on the subject, and expressed your thoughts in a strong and clear style. The hinting and intimating manner of writing that was formerly used on subjects of this kind, produced skepticism, but not conviction. It is necessary to be bold. Some people can be reasoned into sense, and others must be shocked into it. Say a bold thing that will stagger them, and they will begin to think. There is an intimate friend of mine, Colonel Joseph Kirkbridge of Bordentown, New Jersey, to whom I would wish you to send your work. He is an excellent man, and perfectly in our senti- ments. You can send it by the stage that goes partly by land and partly by water, between New York and Philadelphia, and passes through Bordentown. I expect to arrive in America in May next. I have a third part of the Age of Reason to publish when I arrive, which, if I mistake not, will make a stronger impression than any thing I have yet published on the subject. I write tliis by an ancient colleague of mine in the French Convention, the citizen Lequinio, who is going Consul to Rhode Island, and who waits while I write. Yours in friendship, THOMAS PAINE. THOMAS PAINE AT 70. [From Travels in the U. S. of America in 1806, 7, and 9, 10, and 11, by John Mellish.] I continued in New York, transacting various mercantile business, until the 25th of September ; during which time I again called on Thomas Paine, in company with his friend, formerly mentioned. Paine was still at the house of Mrs. Palmer, but his leg had got much better, and he was in good spirits. News had arrived that morning that peace had been con- cluded between France and England ; but Paine said, he did not believe it; and again affirmed, that while the present form of government lasted in England, there would be no peace. The government was committed in a war system, and would prosecute it as long as they could command 86 MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS AND ESSAYS. the means. He then turned up a newspaper, which had recently been established at New York, and, after reading several paragraphs, he ob. served that he could not understand what the editor was driving at. He pretended to be a great friend of Britain, and yet he was constantly writing against peace, and the best interests of the country ; and in place of being guided by the plain dictates of common sense, he aimed at flowery, embellished language, and glided away into the airy regions of speculative nonsense, more like a madman than the editor of a newspaper. After a good deal of general conversation, we took our leave. A few days after tliis, his friend handed me a piece in MS., intended for the newspapers ; and requested me to copy it, and keep the original ; and as Paine has made a great noise in the world, I shall here insert it, as a relic of an extraordinary political character, and as a very good .specimen of the acuteness of his mind, and his turn for wit, at the advanced age of 70. FOR THE CITIZEN. " It must be a great consolation to poor Mr. -'s friends, if he has any, to hear that his insanity increases beyond all hopes of a recovery. His case is truly pitiable ; he works hard at the trade of niischief-raaking ; but he is not a good hand at it, for the case is, the more he labors, the more he is laughed at, and his malady increases with every laugh. " In his paper of Thursday, September 18lh, the spirit of pro- phecy seizes him, and he leaps from the earth, gets astride of a cloud, and predicts universal darkness to the inhabitants of this lower world. " Speaking of the rumors of peace between France and Eng- land, he says, ' we will not believe it till we see it gazetted (mean- ing in the London Gazette), and then,' says he, ' we will aver, that the sun which dawns upon that event will be the darkest that ever rose since the transgression of our first parents brought sin into the world.' This is the first time we ever heard of the sun shining darkness. But darkness or light, sense or nonsense, sunshine or moonshine, are all ahke to a lunatic. He then goes on : ' In a continuance,' says he, ' of war only can Britain look for salvation. That star once distinguished, all will be darkness and eternal night over the face of the creation.' The devil it will ! And pray, Mr. , will the moon shine darkness too 1 and will all the stars hcinkle darkness ? If that should be the case, you had better sell your press, and set up tallow-chandlei There will be more demand for candles than for newspapers, when those dark days come. " But as you are a man that write for a livelihood, and I sup- pose you find it hard work to rub on, I would advise you, as a friend, not to lay out all your cash upon candle-making, for my opinion is, that, whether England make peace or not, or whether she is conquered or not conquered, the sun will rise as glorious, and shine as bright on that day, as if no such trifling things had happened." It a Nor any art we know of — can conceal. j Canst thou describe the sunbeams to the blind, Or make him feel a shadow with his mind 1 So neither can we by description show This first of all felicities below. When happy Love pours magic o'er the soul. And all our thoughts in sweet delirium roll ; When Contemplation spreads her rainbow wings, And every flutter some new rapture brings ; How sweetly then our moments glide away, And dreams repeat the raptures of the day : We live in ecstacy, to all things kind. For Love can teach a moral to the mind. But are there not some other marks that prove, What is this wonder of the soul, call'd Level MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, ETC. 21 O yes, there are, but of a different kind, The dreadful Iwrrors of a dismal mind. Some jealous fury throws her poison'd dart, And rends in pieces the distracted heart. When Love's a tyrant, and the soul a slave, No hopes remain to thought, but in the grave; In that dark den, it sees an end to grief. And what was once its dread, becomes relief. What are the iron chains that hands have wrought 1 The hardest chains to break are those of thougiit. Think well of this, ye lovers, and be kind, Nor play with torture — or a tortured mind. Mr. Paine, while in prison in Paris, corresponded with a lady, under the signature of "The Castle in the Air," while she addressed her letters from "The Little Corner of the World." For reasons which he knew not, their intercourse was suddenly suspended, and for some time he believed his fair friend to be in obscurity and distress. Many years afterwards, however, he met her unexpectedly at Paris, in affluent circumstances, and married to Sir Robert Smith. The following is a copy of one of these poetical effusions. FROM THE CASTLE IN THE AIR, TO THE LITTLE CORNER OF THE WORLD In the region of clouds, where the whirlwinds arise, My Castle of Fancy was built ; The turrets reflected the blue from the skies. And the windows with sunbeams were gilt. Sir— The rainbow sometimes, in its beautiful state, EnamellM the mansion around ; 22 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, ETC. And the figures that fancy in clouds can create, Supplied me with gardens and ground. I had grottoes, and fountains, and orange tree groves, I had all that enchantment has told ; I had sweet shady walks, for the Gods and their Loves, I had mountains of coral and gold. But a storm that I felt not, had risen and roll'd. While wrapp'd in a slumber I lay; And when I look'd out in the morning, behold My Castle was carried away. It pass'd over rivers, and valiies, and groves, The world it was all in my view ; I thought of my friends, of their fates, of their loves, And often, full often of you. At length it came over a beautiful scene, That nature in silence had made ; The place was but small, but 'twas sweetly serene. And chequer'd with sunshine and shade. I gazed and I envied with painful goodwill. And grew tired of ray seat in the air ; When all of a sudden my Castle stood still. As if some attraction was there. Like a lark from the sky it came fluttering down. And placed me exactly in view. When who should I meet in this charming retreat, This corner of calmness, but you. Delighted to find you in honor and ease, I felt no more sorrow, nor pain ; But the wind coming fair, I ascended the breeze, And went back with my Castle again. MISOELLANEOVfl POEMS, ETC. CONTENTMENT ; OR, IF YOU PLEASE, CON- FESSION. To Mrs. Barlow, on her pleasantly telling the author, that after writing against the superstition of the Scripture religion, he was setting up a religion capable of more bigotry and enthusiasm^ and more dangerous to its votaries — that of making a religion of Love. could we always live and love, And always be sincere, 1 would not wish for heaven above, My heaven would be here. Though many countries I have seen, And more may chance to see. My Little Corner of the World* Is half the world to me ; The other half, as you may guess, America contains ; And thus, between them, I possess The whole world for my pains. I'm then contented with my lot, I can no happier be ; For neither world, I'm sure, has got So rich a man as me. Then send no fiery chariot down To take me off from hence. But leave me on my heavenly ground— This prayer is common-sense. Let others choose another plan, I mean no fault to find ; The true theology of man Is happiness of mind. * Lady Smith S4 MISCELlANEOVS POEMS, ETC. LINES EXTEMPORE. July, 1808. Quick as the lightning's vivid flash, The poet's eye o'er Europe rolls ; Sees battles rage — hears tempests crash. And dims at horror's threat'ning scowls. Mark ambition's ruthless king, With crimson'd banners scath the globe ; While trailing after conquest's wing, Man's fest'ring wounds his demons probe. Pall'd with streams of reeking gore, That stain the proud imperial day ; He turns to view the western shore, Where freedom holds her boundless sway. 'Tis here her sage triumphant sways, An empire in the people's love, 'Tis here the sovereign will obeys. No KING but He who rules above. LETTER TO GEORGE WASHINGTON. Paris, August 3, 1796. As censure is but awkwardly softened by apology, I shall offer you no apology for this letter. The eventful crisis to which your double politics have conducted the affairs of your country, requires an investigation uncramped by ceremony. There was a time when the fame of America, moral and politi- cal, stood fair and liigh in the world. The lustre of her revolution extended itself to every individual, and to be a citizen of America gave a title to respect in Europe. Neither meanness nor ingrati- tude had been mingled in thp composition of her character. Her resistance to the attempted tyranny of England left her unsuspected of the one, and her open acknowledgment of the aid she received from France precluded all suspicion of the other. The politics of Washington had not then appeared. At the time I left America (April 1787) the Continental Conven- tion, that formed the federal constitution, was on the point of meet- ing. Since that time new schemes of politics, and new distinctions of parties, have arisen. The term Anti-fcdcralist has been applied to all those who combated the defects of that constitution, or oppo- sed the measures of your administration. It was only to the absolute necessity of establishing some federal authority, extending equally over all the States, that an instrument so inconsistent as the present federal constitution is, obtained a suffrage. I would have voted for it myself, had I been in America,, or even for a worse rather than LETTER TO WASHINGTON. have had none, provided it contained the means of remedying its defects by tlie same appeal to the people, by which it was to be es- tablished. It is always better policy to leave renioveable errors to expose themselves, tiian to hazard too much in contending against them theoretically. I have introduced these observations, not only to mark the gene- ral difference between Anti-federalist and Anti-constitntionalist, but to preclude the effect, and even the application, of the former of these terms to myself. I declare myself opposed to several matters in the constitution, particularly to the manner in which what is call- ed the executive is formed, and to the long duration of the senate; and if I live to return to America, I will use all my endeavors to have them altered. I also declare myself opposed to almost the whole of your administration; for I know it to have been deceitful, if not perfidious, as 1 shall show in the course of this letter. Bui as to the point of consolidating the States into a Federal Government, it so happens, that the proposition for that purpose came originally from myself. I proposed it in a letter to Chancellor Livingston in the spring of the year 1782, while that gentleman was minister for foreign affairs. The five per cent, duty recommended by Congress had then fallen through, having been adopted by some of the States, altered by others, rejected by Rhode Island, and repealed by Vir- ginia, after it had been consented to. The proposal in the letter I allude to, was to get over the whole difficulty at once, by annexing a continental legislative bod}' to Congress; for in order to have any law of the Union uniform, the case could only be, that either Con- gress, as it then stood, must frame the law, and the States severally adopt it without alteration, or, the States must erect a continental legislature for the purpose. Chancellor Livingston, Robert Morris, Governeur Morris, and myself, had a meeting at the house of Ro- bert Morris on the subject of that letter. There was no diversity of opinion on the proposition for a continental legislature : the only difficulty was on the manner of bringing the proposition forward. For my own part, as I considered it as a remedy in reserve, that could be applied at anytime when the. States saw themselves wrong enough to he put right, (which did not ap[)ear to be the case at that time,) I did not see the propriety of urging it precipitately, and de- clined being the publisher of it myself. After this account of a fact, the leaders of your party will scarcely have the hardiness to apply to me the term of Anti-federalist. But I can go to a date and to a LETTER TO WASHINGTON. O fact beyond this, for tiio proposition for electing a continental con- vention. To form the Continental Government, is one of the sub- jects treated of in the pamphlet Common Sense. Having thus cleared away a little of the rubbish that might other- wise have lain in my way, I return to the point of time at which the present federal constitution and your administration began. It was very well said by an anonymous writer in Philadelphia, about a year before that period, that " thirteen staves and never a hoop will not make a barrel, and as any kind of hooping the barrel, how- ever defectively executed, would be better than none, it was scarcely possible but that considerable advantages must arise from the federal hooping of the States. It was with pleasure that every sincere friend to America beheld as the natural effect of union, her rising prosperity, and it was with grief they saw that prosperity mixed, even in the blossom, with the germ of corruption. Monopolies of every kind marked your administration almost in the moment of its commencement. The lands obtained by the revolution were lavish- ed upon partizans; the interest of the disbanded soldier was sold to the speculator; injustice was acted under the pretence of faith; and the chief of the army became the patron of the fraud. From such a beginning what else could be expected, than what has happened? A mean and servile submission to the insults of one nation ; treach- ery and ingratitude to another. Some vices mike their approach with such a splendid appear- ance, that we scarcely know to what class of moral distinctions they belong. They are rather virtues corrupted than vices originally. But meanness and ingratitude have nothing equivocal in their cha- racter. There is not a trait in them that renders them doubtful. They are so originally vice, that they are generated in the dung of other vices, and crawl into existence with the filth upon their backs. The fugitives have found protection in you, and the levee-room is their place of rendezvous. As the federal constitution is a copy, though not quite so base as the original, of the form of the British Government, an imitation of its vices was naturally to be expected. So intimate is the connec- tion between form and practice, that to adopt the one is to invite the other. Imitation is naturally progressive, and is rapidly so in matters that are vicious. Soon after the federal constitution arrived in England, I receiv- ed a letter from a femijile literary correspondent (a native of New 6 LETTER TO WASHINGTON. York) very well mixed with friendship, sentiment, and politics. In my answer to that letter, I permitted myself to ramble into the wil-, derness of imagination, and to anticipate what might hereafter be ihe condition of America. I had no idea that the picture I then drew was realizing so fast, and still less that Mr. Washington was hurry- ing it on. As the extract I allude to is congenial with the subject I am upon, I here transcribe it: " You touch me on a very tender point, when you say, that my *^ friends on your side the water cannot he reconciled to the idea " of my abandoning America even for my native England. They " are right. I had rather see my horse. Button, eating the grass of " Bordentown or Morrissania, than see all the pomp and show of " Europe. " A thousand years hence, for I must indulge a few thoughts, " perhaps in less, America may be what England now is. The in- " nocence of her character, that won the hearts of all nations in " her favor, may sound like a romance, and her inimitable virtue " as if it had never been. The ruins of that liberty, which thou- " sands bled to obtain, may just furnish materials for a village tale, " or extort a sigh from rustic sensibility ; while the fashionable of " that day, enveloped in dissipation, shall deride the principle, and " deny the fact. *' When we contemplate the fall of empires, and the extinction " of -the nations of the ancient world, we see but little more to ex- " cite our regret than the mouldering ruins of pompous palaces, " magnificent monuments, lofty pyramids, and walls and towers of " the most costly workmanship : but when the empire of America "shall fall, the subject for contemplative sorrow will be infinitely " greater than crumbling brass or marble can inspire. It will not "then be said. Here stood a temple.of vast antiquity, here rose a " Babel of invisible height, or there a palace of sumptuous extrava/- ''•gance ; but, here, ah painful thought ! the noblest work of human " wisdom, the greatest scene of human glory, the fair cause of free- '' dom, rose and fell : Read this, and then ask if I forget America." Impressed, as I was, with apprehensions of this kind, I had America constantly in my mind in all the publications I afterwards made. The First, and still more the Second, Part of the Rights of Man, bear evident marks of this watchfulness; and the Disser- tation on First Principles of Government goes more directly to the point than either of the former. I now pass on to other subjects. LETTER TO WASHINGTON. 7 It will be supposed by those into whose hands this letter may fall, that I have some personal resentment against you ; and I will therefore settle this point before I proceed further. If I have any resentment, you must acknowledge that I have not been hasty in declaring it, neither would it now be declared (for what are private resentments to the public?) if the cause of it did not unite itself as well with your public as with your private charac- ter, and with the motives of your political conduct. The part I acted in the American revolution is well known. I shall not here repeat it. I know, also, that, had it not been for the aid received from France, in men, money, and ships, your cold and unmilitary conduct (as 1 shall show in the course of this letter) would in all probability have lost America ; at least she would not have been the independent nation she now is. You slept away your time in the field, till the finances of the country were com- pletely exhausted, and you have but little share in the glory of the final event. It is time, sir, to speak the undisguised language of historical truth. Elevated to the chair of the presidency, you assumed the merit of every thing to yourself; and the natural ingratitude of your con- stitution began to appear. You commenced your presidential ca- reer by encouraging and swallowing the grossest adulation ; and you travelled America from one end to the other to put yourself in the way of receiving it. You have as many addresses in your chest as James the Second. As to what were your views, for if you are not great enough to have ambition you are little enough to have va- nity, they cannot be directly inferred from expressions of your own; but the partizans of your politics have divulged the secret. John Adams has said, (and John it is known was always a spel- ler after places and offices, dud never thought his little services were highly enough paid,) — John has said, that as Mr. Washing- ton had no child, the presidency should be made hereditary in the family of Lund Washington. John might then have counted upon some sinecure for himself, and a provision for his descendants. He did not go so far as to say, also, that the vice presidency should be hereditary in the family of John Adams. He prudent- ly left that to stand on the ground, that one good turn deserves another.* • Two persons to whom John Adams said this, told me of it. The se- cretary of Mr. Jay was present when it was told to me. 8 LETTEU TO WASHINGTON. John Adams is one of those men who never contemplated the origin of government, or comprehended any thing of first princi- ples. If he had, he might have seen, that the right to set up and establish hereditary government, never did, and never can, exist in any generation at any time whatever; that it is of the nature of treason, because it is an attempt to take away the rights of all the minors living at that time, and of all succeeding generations. It is of a degree beyond common treason ; it is a sin against nature. The equal rights of every generation is a fixed right in the nature of things ; it belongs to the son when of age, as it belonged to the fa- ther before him. John Adams would himself deny the right that any former deceased generation could have to decree authoritatively a succession of governors over him or over his children, and yet he assumes a pretended right, treasonable as it is, of acting it himself. His ignorance is his best excuse. John Jay has said, (and this John was always the sycophant of every thing in power, from Mr. Girard in America, to Grenville in England,) — John Jay has said, that the senate should have been appointed for life. He would then have been sure of never wanting a lucrative appointment for himself, and have had no fears about impeachment. These are the disguised traitors that call themselves federalists. * Could I have known to what degree of corruption and perfidy the administrative part of the government of America had descended, I could have been at no loss to have understood the reservedness of Mr. Washington towards me during my imprisonment in the Lux- embourg. There are cases in Avhich silence is a loud language. I will here explain the cause of that imprisonment, and return to Mr. Washington afterwards. In tlie course of that rage, terror, and suspicion, which the bru- tal letter of the Duke of Brunswick first started into existence in France, it happened that almost every man who was opposed to violence, or who was not violent himself, became suspected. I had constandy been opposed to every thing which was of the nature or of the appearance of violence ; but as I had always done it in a manner that showed it to be a principle founded in my heart, and not a political mancenvre, it precluded the pretence of accusing me. I was reached, however, under another pretence. • If Mr. John Jay desires to know on what authority I say this, I will give that authority publicly when he chooses to call for it. LETTER TO WASHINGTON. if A decree was passed to imprison all persons bora in England; but as I was a member of the Convention, and had been compli- mented with the honorary style of citizen of France, as Mr. Wash- ington and some other Americans have been, this decree fell short of reaching me. A motion was afterwards made and carried, support- ed chiefly by Bourdon de I'Oise, for expelling foreigners from the Convention. My expulsion being thus eflected, the two committees of public safety and of general surety, of wliich Robespierre was the dictator, put me in arrostation under the former decree for im- prisoning persons born in England, Having thus shown under what pretence the imprisonmenl was effected, I come to speak of such parts of the case as apj)ly between me and Mr. Washington, either as a president, or as an individual. I have always considered tliat a foreigner, such as I was in fact, with respect to France, might be a member of a convention for framing a constitution, without aflecting his right of citizenship, in the country to which he belongs, but not a member of a govern- ment after a constitution is formed ; and I have uniformly acted up- on this distinction. To be a member of a government requires a person being in allegiance with that government and to the country locally. But a constitution, being a thing of principle, and not of action, and which, after it is formed, is to be referred to the people for their approbation or rejection, does not require allegiance in the persons forming and proposing it; and besides this, it is only to the thing after it is formed and established, and to the country after its governmental character is fixed by the adoption of a constitution, that the allegiance can be given. No oath of allegiance or of citi- zenship was required of the members who composed the Conven- tion: there was nothing existing in form to swear allegiance to. If any such condition had been required, I could not, as a citizen of America, in fact, though citizen of France by compliment, have ac- cepted a seat in the Convention. As my citizenship in America was not altered or diminished by any thing I had done in Europe, (on the contrary, it ought to have been considered as strengthened, for it was the American principle of government that I was endeavoring to spread in Europe,) and as it is the duty of every government to charge itself with the care of any of its citizens who may happen to fall under an arbitrary persecution abroad, (and this is also one of the reasons for which ambassadors or ministers are appointed,) it was the duty of the ex- iO LETTER TO WASHINGTON. e(jutive department in America, to have made, at least, some enqui- ries about me, as soon as it heard of my imprisonment. But if this had not been the case, that government owed it to me on every ground and principle of honor and gratitude. Mr. Washington owed it to nie on every score of private acquaintance, 1 will not now say friendship; for it has some time been known by those who know him, that he has no friendships, that he is incapable of form- ing any; he can serve or desert a man, or a cause, with constitu- tional indiflerence ; and it is this cold hermaphrodite faculty that imposed itself upon the world, and was credited awliile by enemies, as by friends, for prudence, moderation, and impartiality. Soon after I was put into arrestation, and imprisonment in the Luxembourg, the Americnns who were then in Paris, went in a bo- dy to the bar of the Convention to reclaim me. They were an- swered by the then President Vadier, who has since absconded, that / was horn in England, and it was signified to them, by some of the Conjmittee of General Surety, to wiiom they were referred, (I have been told it was Billaud Varennes,) that their reclamation of me was only the act of individuals, without any authority from the American government. A few days after this, all communication between persons impri- soned, and any person without the prison, was cut off by an order of the police. I neither saw nor heard from any body for six months; and the only hope that remained to me was, that a new minister would arrive from America to supercede Morris, and that he would be authorized to inquire into the cause of my imprison- ment ; but even this hope, in the state to which matters were daily arriving, was too remote to have any consolatory effect, and. I con- tented myself with the thought that I might be remembered when it would be too late. There is, perhaps, no condition from which a man, conscious of his own uprightness, cannot derive consolation ; for it is in itself a consolation for him to find, that he can bear that condition with calmness and fortitude. From about the middle of March (1794) to the fall of Robespierre July 29, (9th of Thermidor,) the state of things in the prisons was a continued scene of horror. No man could c mnt upon life for twen- ty-four hours. To such a pitch of rage and suspicion were Robes- pierre and his committee arrived, tha", it sefemed as if thfM feared to leave a man to live. Scarcely a night passed in which ten, twenty, ihirty, forty, fifty, or more, were not taken cut of the prison, carri LETTER TO WASHINGTON. H ed before a pretended tribunal in tbe morning, and guillotined be- fore night. One hundred and sixty-nine were taken out of the Lux- embourg one night, in the month of July, and one hundred and sixty of them guillotined. A list of two hundred more, according to the report in the prison, was preparing a few days before Ro- bespierre fell. In this last list I have good reason to believe I was included. A memorandum in the hand-writing of Robespierre was afteiTvards produced in the Convention, by the committee to whom the papers of Robespierre were referred, in these words : ' Demander que Thomas Paine I " Demand that Thomas Paine '•soitdecrete d'accusation pour " be decreed of accusation for " I'interet de I'Amerique, au- | " the interest of America as " tant que de la France." | " well as of France." I had been imprisoned seven months, and the silence of the ex- ecutive part of the government of America (Mr. Washington) up- on the case, and upon every thing respecting me, was explanation enough to Robespierre that he might proceed to extremities. A violent fever which had nearly terminated my existence, was, I believe, the circumstance that preserved it. 1 was not in a con- dition to be removed, or to know of what was passing, or of what had passed, for more than a month. It makes a blank in my re- membrance of life. The first thing I was informed of was the fall of Robespierre. About a week after this, Mr. Monroe arrived to supercede Go- verneur Morris, and as soon as I was able to write a note legible enough to be read, I found a way to convey one to him by means of the man who lighted the lamps in the prison; and whose unabated friendship to me. from whom he had never received any service, and with difficulty accepted any recompense, puts the character of Mr. Washington to shame. In a few days I received a message from Mr. Monroe, conveyed to me in a note from an intermediate person, with assurance of his friendship, and expressing a desire that I would rest the case in his hands. After a fortnight or more had passed, and hearing nothing farther, I wrote to a friend who was then in Paris, a citizen of Phi- ladelphia, requesting him to inform me what was the true situation of things with respect to me. I was sure that something was the matter ; I began to have hard thoughts of Mr. AVashington, but I was unwilling to encourage them. In about ten days, I received an answer to my letter, in which 12 LETTER TO WASHINGTON. the writer says, " Mr. Monroe has told me that he has no order " (meaning from the president, Mr. Washington) respecting you, " but that he (Mr. Monroe) will do every thing in his power to libe- " rate you ; but, from what I learn from the Americans lately ar- " rived in Paris, you are not considered, either by the American "government, or by individuals, as an American citizen." I was now at no loss to understand Mr. Washington and his new fangled faction, and that their policy was silently to leave me to fall in France. They were rushing as fast as they could venture, without awakeumg the jealousy of America, into all the vices and corruptions of the British government ; and it was no more consis- tent with the policy of Mr. Washington, and those who immediately surrounded him, than it was with that of Robespierre or of Pitt, that I should survive. They have, however, missed the mark, and tlie reaction is upon themselves. Upon the receipt of the letter just alluded to, I sent a memorial to Mr. Monroe, which the reader will find in the appendix, and I received from him the following answer. It is dated the 18th of September, but did not come to hand till about the 18th of October. I was then falling into a relapse, the weather was becoming damp and cold, fuel was not to be had, and the abscess in my side, the consequence of those things, and of want of air and exercise, was beginning to form, and has continued immoveable ever since. Here follows Mr. Monroe's letter. Paris, September 18th, 1794. " Dear Sir, " I was favored, soon after my arrival here, with several letters from you, and more latterly with one in the character of a memorial upon the subject of your confinement ; and should have answered them at the times they were respectively written, had I not conclu- ded you would have calculated with certainty upon the deep inter- est I take in your welfare, and the pleasure with which I shall em- brace every opportunity in my power to serve you. I should still pursue the same course, and for reasons which must obviously occur, if I did not find that you are disquieted with apprehensions upon interesting points, and which justice to you and our country equally forbid you should entertain. You mention that you have been in- formed you are not considered as an American citizen by the Ame- ricans, and that you have likewise heard that I had no instructions LETTER TO WASHINGTON. 13 respecting you by the government. I doubt not the person who gave you the information meant well, but I suspect he did not even convey accurately his own ideas on the first point: for 1 presume the most he could say is, that you had likewise become a French citizen, and which by no means deprived you of being an American one. Even this, however, may be doubted, I mean the acquisition of citizenship in France, and I confess you have said much to show that it has not been made. I really suspect that this was all that the gentleman who wrote to you, and those Americans he heard speak upon the subject, meant. It becomes my duty, however, to declare to you, that I consider you as an American citizen, and that you are considered universally in that character by the people of Ame- rica. As such you are entitled to my attention ; and so far as it can be given consistently with those obligations which are mutual be- tween every government and even a transient passenger you shall, receive it. " The Congress have never decided upon the subject of citizen- ship, in a manner to regard the present case. By being with us through the revolution, you are of our country as absolutely as if you had been born there, and you are no more of England, than every native American is. This is the true doctrine in the present case, so far as it becomes complicated with any other consideration. I have mentioned it to make you easy upon the only point which could give you any disquietude. " It is necessary for me to tell you how much all your country- men, I speak of the great mass of the people, are interested in your welfare. Tlipy have not forgotten the history of their own revolu- tion, and the difficult scenes through which they passed; nor do they review its several stages without reviving in their bosoms a due sensibility of the merits of those who served them in that great and arduous conflict. The crime of ingratitude has not yet stained, and 1 trust never will stain, our national character. You are considered by them, as not only having rendered important services in our own revolution, but as being, on a more extensive scale, the friend of human rights, ajid a distinguished and able advocate in favor of public libert)'. To the welfare of Thomas Paine, the Americans are not, nor can they be, indifferent. " Of the sense which the President has always entertained of your merits, and of liis friendly disposition towards you, you are too well assured, to require any declaration of it from me. That I for- 14 LETTER TO WASHINGTON. ward his wishes in seeking your safety is what I well know ; and this will form an additional obligation on me to perform what I should otherwise consider as a duty. " You are, in my opinion, at present menaced by no kind of dan- ger. To liberate you, will be an object of my endeavors, and as soon as possible. But you must, until that event shall be accom- plished, bear your situation with patience and fortitude ; you will likewise have the justice to recollect, that I am placed here upon a difficult theatre,* many important objects to attend to, and with few to consult. It becomes me in pursuit of those, to regulate my con- duct in respect to each, as to the manner and the time, as will, in my judgment, be best calculated to accomplish the whole. " With great esteem and respect consider me personally your friend, " James Monroe." The part in Mr. Monroe's letter, in which he speaks of the Pre- sident, (Mr. Washington,) is put in soft language. Mr. Monroe knew what Mr. Washington had said formerly, and he was willing to keep that in view. But the fact is, not only that Mr. Washington had given no orders to Mr. Monroe as the letter stated ; but he did not so much as say to him, inquire if Mr. Paine be dead or alive, in prison or out, or see if there be any assistance we can give him. While these matters were passing, the liberations from the pri- sons were numerous ; from twenty to forty in the course of almost every twenty-four hours. The continuance of my imprisonment after a new minister had arl-ived immediately from America, which was now more than two months, was a matter so obviously strange, that I found the character of the American government spoken of in very unqualified terms of reproach ; not only by those who still remained in prison, but by those who were liberated, and by per- sons who had access to the prison from without. Under these cir- cumstances I wrote again to Mr. Monroe, and found occasion to say, among other things, " It will not add to the popularity of Mr. Wash- " ington, to have it believed in America, as it is believed here, that " he connives at my imprisonment." The case, so far as it respected Mr. Monroe, was, that having to get over the difficulties, which the strange conduct of Governeur * This I presume alludes to the embarrassments which the strange con- duct of Governeur Morris had occasioned, and which, I well know, had cre- ated suspicions of the sincerity of Mr. Washington. LETTER TO WASHINGTON. 15 Morris had thrown in the way of a successor, and having no autho- rity from tlie American government, to speak officially upon any thing relating to me, he found himself obliged to proceed by unof- ficial means with individual members ; for though Robespierre was overthrown, the Robespierrian members of the Committee of Public Safety still remained in considerable force, and had they found out that Mr. Monroe had no official authority upon the case, they would have paid little or no regard to his reclamation of me. In the mean time my health was suffering exceedingly, the dreary prospect of winter was coming on, and imprisonment was still a thing of danger. After the Robespierrian members of the Committee were removed, by the expiration of their time of serving, Mr. Monroe reclaimed me, and I was liberated the 4th of November. Mr. JNIonroe arrived in Paris the beginning of August before. All that period of ray impri- sonment, at least, I owe not to Robespierre, but to his colleague in projects, George Washington. Immediately upon my liberation, Mr. Monroe invited me to his house, where I remained more than a year and a half; and I speak of his aid and friendship, as an open-heart- ed man will always do in such a case, with respect and gratitude. Soon after my liberation, the Convention passed a unanimous vote, to invite me to return to my seat among them. The times were still unsettled and dangerous, as well from without as within, for the coalition was unbroken, and the constitution not settled. I chose, however, to accept the invitation : for as I undertake nothing but what I believe to be right, I abandon nothing that I undertake ; and I was willing also to show, that, a^ I was not of a cast of mind to be deterred by prospects, or retrospects, of danger, so neither were my principles to be weakened by misfortune or perverted by disgust. Being now once more abroad in the world, I began to find that I was not the only one who had conceived an unfavorable opinion of Mr. Washington ; it was evident that his character was on the decline as well among Americans, as among foreigners of different nations. From being the chief of the government, he had made himself the chief of a party ; and his integrity was questioned, for his politics had a doubtful appearance. The mission of Mr. Jay, to London, notwithstanding there was an American minister there al- ready, had then taken place, and was beginning to be talked of. It appeared to others, as it did to me, to be enveloped in mystery, which every day served either to increase or to explain into matter of suspicion. 16 LETTER TO WASHINGTON. In the year 1 790, or about that time, Mr. Washington, as presi- dent, had sent Governeur Morris to London, as his secret agent, to have some communication with the British ministry. To cover the agency of Morris it was given out, I know not by whom, that he went as an agent from Robert Morris, to borrow money in Europe, and the report was permitted to pass uncontradicted. The event of Morris's negociation was, that Mr. Hammond was sent minister from England to America, Pinkney from America to England, and himself minister to France. If, while Morris was minister in France, he was not an emissary of the British ministry and the coalesced powers, he gave strong reason to suspect him of it. No one who saw his conduct, and heard his conversation, could doubt his being in their interest ; and had he not got off at the time he did, after his recall, he would have been in arrestation. Some letters of his had fallen into the hands of the Committee of Public Safety, and enquiry was making after him. A great bustle has been made by Mr. Washington about the con- duct of Cenet in America, while that of his own minister, Morris, in France, was infinitely more reproachable. If Genet was impru- dent or rash, he was not treacherous ; but Morris was all three. He was the enemy of the French revolution, in every stage of it. But notwithstanding this conduct on the part of Morris, and the known profligacy of his character, Mr. Washington, in a letter he wrote to him at the time of recalling him on the complaint and re- quest of the Committee of Public Safety, assures him, that though he had complied with that request, he still retained the same esteem and friendship for him as before. This letter, Morris was foolish enough to tell of; and, as his own character and conduct were notorious, the telling of it could have but one effect, which was that of implicating the character of the writer. Morris still loiters in Europe, chiefly in England ; and Mr. Washington is still in corres- pondence with him. Mr. Washington ought, therefore, to expect, especially since his conduct in the affairs of Jay's treaty, that France must consider Morris and Washington as men of the same description. The chief difference, however, between the two is, (for in politics there is none,) that the one is profligate enough to profess an indifference about moral principles, and the other is pru- dent enough to conceal the want of them. About three months after I was at liberty, the official note of Jay to Grenville, on the subject of the capture of American vessels by LETTER TO WASHINGTON. 17 the British cruisers, appeared in the American papers that arrived at Paris. Every thing was of a piece — every thing was mean. Tho same kind of character went to all circumstances public or private. Disgusted at this national degradation, as well as at the particular conduct of Mr. Washington to me, I wrote to him (Mr. Washing- ton) on the twenty-second of February, 1795, under cover to the then secretary of state, (Mr. Randolph,) and entrusted the letter to Mr. Letombe, who was appointed French consul to Philadelphia, and was on the point of taking his departure. When I supposed Mr. Letombe had sailed, I mentioned the letter to Mr. Monroe, and as I was then in his house, I showed it to him. He expressed a wish that I would recall it, which he supposed might be done, as he had learned that Mr. Letombe had not then sailed. I agreed to do so, and it was returned by Mr. Letombe under cover to Mr. Monroe. The letter, will, however, now reach Mr. Washington publicly in the course of this work. About the month of September following, I had a severe relapse, wliich gave occasion to tho report of mv death. I had felt it coming on a considerable lime befure, which occasioned me to hasten the work I had then on hand. The Second Part of the Age of Reason. When I had finished the work, I bestowed another letter on Mr. Washington, which I sent under cover to Mr. Franldin Bache, of Philadelphia. The letter was as follows : "TO GEORGE WASHINGTON, " PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. " Paris, September 20, 1795. " Sir, . " I had written you a letter by Mr. Letombe, French consul, but, at the request of Mr. Monroe, I withdrew it, and the letter is still by me. I was the more easily prevailed upon to do this, as it was then my intention to have returned to America the latter end of the present year (1795;) but the illness I now suffer prevents me. In case I had come, I should have applied to you for such parts of your official letters (and your private ones, if you had cho- sen to give them) as contained any instructions or directions either to Mr. Monroe, to Mr. Morris, or to any other person, respecting me ; for after you were informed of my imprisonment in France, it was incumbent on you to have made some enquiry into the cause, as you might very well conclude that I had not the opportunity of 18 LETTER TO WASHINGTON. informing you of it. I cannot understand your silence upon this subject upon any other ground, than as connivance at my impri- sonment ; and this is the manner it is understood here, and will be understood in America, unless you will give me authority for con- tradicting it. I therefore write you this letter, to propose to you to send me copies of any letters you have written, that I may re- move this suspicion. In the preface to the Second Part of the Age of Reason, I have given a memorandum from the hand-writing ot Robespierre, in which he proposed a degree of accusation against me, ^^for the interest of America as well as of France. '''' He could have no cause for putting America in the case, but by interpreting the silence of the American government into connivance and con- sent. I was imprisoned on the ground of being born in England ; and your silence in not enquiring the cause of that imprisonment, and reclaiming me against it, was tacitly giving me up. I ought not to have suspected you of treachery ; but whether I recover from the illness I now suffer, or not, I shall continue to think you treaclierous, till you give me cause to think otherwise. I am sure you would have found yourself more at your ease, had you acted by me as you ought ; for whether your desertion of me was intend- ed to gratify the English government, or to let me fall into destruc- tion in France, that you miglit exclaim the louder against the French revolution ; or whether you hoped by my extinction to meei with less opposition in mounting up the American government ; either of these will involve you in reproach you will not easily shake off. " Thomas Paine." Here follows the letter above alluded to, which had been with- drawn : "TO GEORGE WASHINGTON, " PUESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. " Paris, February 22, 1795. " Sir, " As it is always painful to reproach those one would wish to respect, it is not without some difficulty that I have taken the reso- lution to write to you. The danger to which I have been exposed cannot have been unknown to you, and the guarded silence you have observed upon that circumstance, is what I ought not to have LETTER TO WASHINQTON. 19 expected from you, eitlier as a friend or as President of the United States. '' You knew enough of my character, to be assured that I could not have deserved iinprisonment in France ; and, witjiout knowing any tiling more than this, you had sufficient ground to have taken some interest for n)y safety. Every motive arising from recollec- tion ought to have suggested to you rhe consistency of such a mea- sure. But I cannot find that yoa have so much as directed an enquiry to be made whether I was in prison or at liberty, dead or alive ; what the cause of that imprisonment was, or whether there was any service or assistance you could render. Is this what I ought to have expected from America, after the part T have acted towards her ? Or will it redound to her honor or to your's that I lell the story 1 I do not hesitate to say, that you have not served America with more fidelity, or greater zeal, or more disinterested- ness, than myself, and perhaps not with better effect. After the revolution of America had been established, you rested at home to partake its advantages, and I ventured into new scenes of difficulty to extend the principles which that revolution had produced. In the progress of events, you beheld yourself a president in America, and me a prisoner in France ; you folded your arms, forgot your friend, and became silent. " As every thing T have been doing in Europe was connected with ray wishes for the prosperity of America, I ought to be the more surprised at this conduct on the part of her government. It leaves me but one mode of explanation, which is, that evert/ thing is not as it ought to be amongst you, and that the presence of a man who might disapprove, and who had credit enough with the country to be heard and believed, was not wished for. This was the operating motive with the despotic faction that imprisoned me in France, (though the pretence was, that I was a foreigner,) and those that have been silent and inactive towards me in America, appear to me to have acted from the same motive. It is impossible for me to discover any other. " After the part I have taken in the revolution of America, it is natural that I feel interested in whatever relates to her character and prosperity. Though I am not on the spot to see what is im- mediately acting there, I see some part of what she is acting in Europe. For your own sake, as well as for that of America, I was both surprised and concerned at the appointment of Governeur SMil LETTER TO WASHINGTON. Morris, to be Minister to France. His conduct has proved, that the opinion I had formed of th?t appointment was well founded. 1 wrote that opinion to Mr. Jefferson at the time, and I was frank enougli to say the same thing to INIorris, that if was a7i unfortunate appointment. His prating, insignificant pomposity rendered liim at once offensive, suspected, and ridiculous ; and his total neglect of all business, had so disgusted the Americans, that they proposed drawing up a protest against him. He carried this neglect to such an extreme, that it was necessary to inform him of it ; and I asked liim one day, if he did not feel himself ashamed to take the money of the country, and do nothing for it? But Morris is so fond of profit and voluptuousness, that he cares nothing about character. Had he not been removed at the time he was, I think his conduct would have precipitated the two countries into a rupture ; and in this case, hated systematically as America is, and ever will be, by the British government, and at the same time suspected by France, the commerce of America would have fallen a prey to botli. If the inconsistent conduct of Morris exposed the interest of America to some hazard in France, the pusillanimous conduct of Mr. Jay in England has rendered the American government con- temptible in Europe. Is it possible that any man, who has contri- buted to the independence of America, and to free her from the tyranny and injustice of the British government, can read without shame and indignation the note of Jay to Grenville 1 It is a satire upon the Declaration of Independence, and an encouragement to the British government to treat America whh contempt. At the time this minister of petitions was acting this miserable part, he had every means in his hands to enable him to have done his busi- ness as he ought. The success or failure of his mission depended upon the success or failure of the French arms. Had France failed, Mr. Jay might have put his humble petition in his pocket, and gone home. The case happened to be otherwise, and he has sa- crificed the honor, and perhaps the advantage of it, by turning petitioner. I take it for granted, that he was sent over to demand indemnification for the captured property ; and, in this case, if he thought he wanted a preamble to his demand, he might have said, " That, though the government of England might suppose itself " under the necessity of seizing American property bound to " France, yet that supposed necessity could not preclude indemni- *' fication to the proprietors, who, acting under the authority of LETTER TO WASHINGTON. 21 " their own government, were not accountable to any other." But Mr, Jay sets out with an implied recognition of the right of the British government to seize and condemn : for he enters his com- plaint against the irregularity of the seizures, and the condemna- tion, as if they were reprehensible only by not being conformable to the terras of the proclamation under which they were seized. Instead of being the envoy of a government, he goes over like a lawyer to demand a new trial. I can hardly help thinking tha* Grenville wrote that note himself, and Jay signed it ; for the styl of it is domestic and not diplomatic. The term, his Majesty, used without any descriptive epithet, always signifies the King whom the minister represents. If this sinking of the demand into a petition was a juggle between Grenville and Jay to cover the indemnification, I think it will end in another juggle, that of never paying the money ; and be made use of afterwards to preclude the right of demanding it: for Mr. Jay has virtually disowned the right by appealing to the magnanimity of his Majesty against the cap- turers. He has made this magnanimous Majesty the umpire in the case, and the government of the United States must abide by the decision. If, Sir, I turn some part of this business into ridicule, it is to avoid the unpleasant sensation of serious indignation. " Among other things which I confess I do not understand, is your proclamation of neutrality. This has always appeared to me as an assumption on the part of the executive. But passing this over, as a disputable case, and considering it only as political, the consequence has been that of sustaining the losses of war, without the balance of reprisals. When the profession of neutrality, on the part of America, was answered by hostilities on the part of Britain, the object and intention of that neutrality existed no longer; and to maintain it after this, was not only to encourage farther insults and depredations, but was an informal breach of neutrality towards France, by passively contributing to the aid of her enemy. That the government of England considered the American government as pusillanimous, is evident from the increasing insolence of the conduct of the former towards the latter, till the affair of General Wayne. She then saw that it might be possible to kick a govern- ment into some degree of spirit. So far as the proclamation of neutrality was intended to prevent a dissolute spirit of privateering in America under foreign colors, it was undoubtedly laudable; but to continue it as a government neutrality, after the commerce XZ LETTER TO WASHINGTON. of America was made war upon, was submission and not neutrality. I nave heard so much about this thing called ueutralitj, that I know not if the ungenerous and dishonorable silence (for I must call it such,) that has been observed by your part of the govern- ment towards me, durins my imprisonment, has not in some mea- sure arisen from that policy. " Though I have written yon this letter, you ought not to sup- pose it has been an agreeable undertaking to me. On the contiary, I assure you, it has caused me some disquietude. I am sorry you have given me cause to do it ; for, as I have always remembered your former friendship with pleasure, I suffer a loss by your de- priving me of that sentiment. "THOMAS PAL\E." That this letter was not written in verj' good temper, is very evident; but it was just such a letter as his conduct appeared to me to merit, and every thing on his part since has served to con- firm that opinion. Had I wanted a commentary on his silence, with respect to my imprisonment in France, some of his faction have furnished me with it. AVhat I here allude to, is a publication in a Philadelphia paper, copied afterwards into a New York paper, both under the patronage of the Washington faction, in which the writer, still supposing me in prison in France, wonders at my lengthy respite from the scaffold. And he marks his politics still farther, by saying, " It appears, moreover, that the people of England did " not relish his (Thomas Paine's) opinions quite so well as he ex- ' pected ; and that for one of his last pieces, as destructive to the *' peace and happiness of their country, (meaning, I suppose, the " Rights of Man,) they threatened our knight errant with such se- " rious vengeance, that, to avoid a trip to Botany Bay, he fled ovei " to France, as a less dangerous voyage." I am not refuting or contradicting the falsehood of this publica- tion, for it is sufficiently notorious ; neither am I censuring the writer: on the contrary, I thank him for the explanation he has incautiously given of the principles of the Washington faction. In- significant, however, as the piece is, it was capable of having some ill effects, had it arrived in France during my imprisonment, and in the time of Robespierre ; and I am not uncharitable in sup- posing that this was one of the intentions of the writer.* * 1 know not who the writer of the piece is, but some of the Americans LETTER TO WASHINGTON. 23 I have now done with Mr. Washington on the score of private affairs. It would have been far more agreeable to me had his con- duct been such as not to have merited these reproaches. Errors, or caprices of the temper, can be pardoned and forgotten ; but a cold, deliberate crime of the heart, such as Mr. Washington is ca- pable of acting, is not to be washed away. I now proceed to other matter. After Jay's note to Grenville arrived in Paris from America, the character of every thing that was to follow might be easily foreseen ; and it was upon this anticipation that my letter of February the 22d was founded. The event has proved that I was not mistaken, except that it has been much worse than I expected. It would naturally occur to Mr. Washington, that the secrecy of Jay*s mission to England, where there was already an American minister, could not but create some suspicion in the French go- vernment, especially as the conduct of Morris had been notorious, and the intimacy of Mr. Washington with Morris was known. The character which Mr. Washington has attempted to act in the world, is a sort of non-describable, camelion-colored thing, called prudence. It is, in many cases, a substitute for principle, and is so nearly allied to hypocrisy, that it easily slides into it. His genius for prudence furnished him, in this instance, with an expedient that served (as is the natural and general character of ail expedients) to diminish the embarrassments of the moment, and multiply them afterwards ; for he caused it to be announced to the French government as a confidential matter, (Mr. Washing- ton should recollect that I was a member of the Convention, and had the means of knowing what I here state) — he caused it, I say, to be announced, and that for the purpose of preventing any uneasiness to France, on the score of Mr. Jay's mission to En- gland, that the object of that mission, and Mr. Jay's authority, were restricted to the demanding of the surrender of the west- ern posts, and indemnification for the cargoes captured in Ameri- can vessels. Mr. Washington knows that this was untrue ; and knowing this, he had good reason, to himself, for refusing to fur- nish the House of Representatives with copies of the instructions given to Jay, as he might suspect, among other things, that he say it is Phineas Bond, an American refugee, but now a British Consul, antl that he writes under the signature of Peter Skunk, or Peter Porcupine, or some such signature 24 LETTER TO WASHINGTON. should also be called upon for copies of instructions given to othe/ ministers, and that, in the contradiction of instructions, his want of integrity would be detected. Mr. Washington may now, perhaps, learn, when it is too late to be of any use to him, that a man will pass belter through the world with a thousand open errors upon his back, than in being detected in one sly falsehood. When one is detected, a thousand are suspected. The first account that arrived in Paris of a treaty being negotia- ted by Mr. Jay, (for nobody suspected any,) came in an English newspaper, which announced that a treaty, offensive and defensive had been concluded between the United States of America and England. This was immediately denied by every American in Paris, as an impossible thing and though it was disbelieved by the French, it imprinted a suspicion that some underhand business was going forward. At length the treaty itself arrived, and every well-affected American blushed with shame. It is curious to observe, how the appearances of characters will change, whilst the root that produces them remains the same. The Washington faction having waded through the slough of negocia- tion, and whilst it amused France with professions of friendship contrived to injure her, immediately throws off the hypocrite, and assumes the air of a swaggering bravado. The party papers of that imbecile administration were on this occasion filled with para- graphs about sovereignty. A paltroon may boast of his sovereign right to let another kick him, and this is the only kind of sove- reignty shown in the treaty with England. But those daring para- graphs, as Timothy Pickering well knows, were intended for France, without whose assistance, in men, money, and ships, Mr. Washington would have cut but a poor figure in the American war. But of his military talents 1 shall speak hereafter. I mean not to enter into any discussion of any article of Jay's treaty ; I shall speak only of the whole of it. It is attempted to be justified on the ground of its not being a violation of any article or articles of the treaty pre-existing with France. But the sovereign right of explanation does not lie with George Washington and his man Timothy ; France, on her part, has, at least, an equal right : and when nations dispute, it is not so much about words as about things. A man, such as the world calls a sharper, as versed as Jay must be supposed to be in the quibbles of the law. may find a way to LETTER TO WASHINGTON. 25 enter into engagements, and make bargains, in such a manner as to cheat some other party, without that party being able, as tiie phrase is, to lake the law nf him. This often happens in tlie caba- listical circle of what is called law. But when this is attempted to be acted on the national scale of treaties, it is too despicable to be defended, or to be permitted to exist. Yet this is the trick upon which Jay's treaty is founded, so far .is it has relation to the treaty pre-existing with France. It is a counter treaty to that treaty, and perverts all the great articles of that treaty to the injury of France, and makes them operate as a bounty to England, with whom France is at war. The Washington administration shows great desire that the treaty between France and the United States be preserved. Nobody can doubt hs sincerity upon this matter. There is not a British minister, a British merchant, or a British agent, or factor, in America, that does not anxiously wish the same thing. The treaty with France, serves now as a passport to supply En- gland with naval stores, and other articles of American produce ; whilst the same articles, when coming to France, are made contra- band, or seizable, by Jay's treaty with England. The treaty with France says, that neutral shi]5s make neutral property, and thereby gives protection to English property on board American ships ; and Jay's treaty delivers up French property on board American ships to be seized by the English. It is too paltry to talk of faith, of national honor, and of the preservation of treaties, whilst such a barefaced treachery as this stares the world in the face. The VV^ashington administration may save itself the trouble of proving to the French government its most faithful intentions of preserving the treaty with France ; for France has now no desire that it should be preserved ; she had nominated an envoy extraor- dinary to America, to make Mr. Washington and his government a present of the treaty, and to have no more to do with that, or with him. It was at the same time otlficially declared to the American minister at Paris, that the French Republic had rather have the American government for an open enemy than a treacherous friend. This, sir, with the internal distractions caused in America, and the loss of character in the world, is the eventful crisis alluded to in the beginning of this letter, to which your double politics have brought the aflairs of your country. It is time that the eyes of America be opened upon you. How France would have conducted herself towards America, D 26 LETTER TO WASHINGTON. and American commerce, after all treaty stipulations had ceased, and under the sense of services rendered and injuries received, I know not. It is, however, an unpleasant reflection, that in ail national quarrels, the innocent, and even the friendly part of the community, become involved witli the culpable and the unfriendly ; and as the accounts that arrived from America, continued to mani- fest an invariable attachment, in the general mass of the people, to their original ally, in opposition to the new fangled WashLngtou faction, the resolutions that had been taken in France were sus- pended. It happened, also, fortunately enough, that Governeui Morris was not minister at this time. There is, however, one point that yet remains in embryo, and which, among other things, serves to show the ignorance of Wash- ington treaty-makers, and their inattention to pre-existing treaties, when they were employing themselves in framing or ratifying the new treaty with England. The second article of the treaty of commerce between the Uni- ted States and France, says, " The most Christian King and the " United States, engage mutually not to grant any particular favor " to other nations in respect to commerce and navigation, that shall " not immediately become common to the other party, who shall "enjo}' the same favor freely, if the concession was freely made, " or on allowing the same compensation if the concession was con- " ditional." All the concessions, therefore, made to England by Jay's treaty, are, through the medium of this second article in the pre-existing treaty, made to France, and become engrafted into the treaty with France, and can be exercised by her as a matter of right, the same as by England. Jay's treaty makes a concession to England, and that uncondi- tionally, of seizing naval stores in American ships, and condemning them as contraband. It makes also a concession to England to seize provisions and other articles in American ships. Other arti- cles, are all other articles ; and none but an ignoramus, or some- thing worse, would have put such a plirase into a treaty. The con- dition annexed to this case is, that the provisions and other articles so seized, are to be paid for at a price to be agreed upon. Mr. Washington, as president, ratified this treaty after he knew tho British government had recommenced an indiscriminate seizure of provisions, and of all other articles in American ships : cind it is LETTEB TO WASHINGTON. 27 now known that those seizures were made to fit out the expedition going to Quiberon Bay, and it was known beforehand that they would be made. The evidence goes also a good way to prove that Jay and Grenville understood each other upon that subject. Mr. Pinkney, when he passed through France in his way to Spain, spoke of the recommencement of the seizures as a thing that would take place. The French government had by some means received information from London to the same purpose, with the addition, that the recommencement of the seizures would cause no misunder- standing between the British and American governments. Gren- ville, in defending himself against the opposition in Parliament, on account of the scarcity of corn, said (see his speech at the opening of the parliament that met October 29, 1795) that the supplies for the Quiberon expedition were furnished out of the American ships, and all the accounts received at that time from England stated that those seizures were made under the treaty. After the supplies for the Quiberon expedition had been procured, and the expected suc- cess had failed, the seizures were countermanded ; and had the French seized provision vessels going to England, it is probable that the Quiberon expedition could not have been attempted. In one point of view, the treaty with England operates as a loan to the English government. It gives permission to that govern- ment to take American property at sea, to any amount, and pay for it when it suits her ; and, besides this, the treaty is in every point of view a surrender of the rights of American commerce and navi- gation, and a refusal to France of the rights of neutrality. The American flag is not now a neutral flag to France ; Jay's treaty of surrender gives a monopoly of it to England. On the contrary, the treaty of commerce between America and France was formed on the most liberal principles, and calculated to give the greatest encouragement to the infant commerce of America. France was neither a carrier nor an exporter of naval stores, or of provisions: those articles belonged wholly to America; and they had all the protection in that treaty which a treaty can give. But so much has that treaty been perverted, that the liberality of it on the part of France has served to encourage Jay to form a counter- treaty with England ; for he must have supposed the hands of France tied up by her treaty with America, when he was makmg such large concessions in favor of England. The injury which Mr. Washington's administration has done to the character, as well as to 23 LETTER TO WASHIXGTON. the commnrce, of America, is too great to be repaired by him. Fo- reign nations will be shy of making treaties with a government that has given the Aiilhless example of perverting the liberality of a former treaty to the injury of the party with whom it was made. In what a fraudulent light must Mr. Washington's character ap- pear in the world, when his declarations and his conduct are com- pared together ! Here follows the letter he wrote to the Committee of Public Safety, while Jay was negociating in profound secrecy this treacherous treaty : " George Washington, President of the United States of Ame- " rica, to the representatives of the French people, members " of the Committee of Public Safety of the French re- ^^ public, the great and good friend and ally of the United " States. " On the intimation of the wish of the French republic that a new " minister should be sent from the United States, I resolved to "manifest my sense of the readiness with which m?/ request was " fulfilled, (that of recalling Genet,) by immediately fulfilling the " request of your government, (that of recalling Morris.) " It was some time before a character could be obtained worthy "of the high office of expressing the attachment of the United " States to the happiness of our nlVies, and draioing closer the bonds " of our friendship. I have now made choice of James Monroe, " one of our distinguished citizens, to reside near the French re- " public, in quality of minister plenipotentiary of the United States " of America. He is instructed to bear to you our sincere solici- " tilde for your welfare, and to cidtivate ivith zeal the cordiality so " happily sid)sisting between us. From a knowledge of his fidelity, "probity, and good conduct, I have entire confidence that he will " render himself acceptable to you, and give eflfect to your desire " of preserving and advanting, on all occasions, the interest and " connexion of the two nations. I beseech you, therefore, to jjive " full credence to whatever he sh'iU say to you on the part of the " United States, and most of all, when he shall assure a'ou that your " prosperity is an object of our afiection. And I pray God to have *' the French republic in his holy keeping. « G. WASHINGTON." LETTER TO WASHINGTON. 851 Was it by entering into a treaty with England to surrender French property on board American ships to be seized by tlie En- gHsh, while English property on board American ships was declared by the French treaty not to be seizable, that the bonds of friend- ship between America and France were to be drawn closer? Was it by declaring naval stores contraband when coming to France, whilst by the French treaty they wore not contraband when going to England, that the connexion between France and America was to be advanced? Was it by opening the American ports to the British navy in the presentwar, from which ports the same navy had been expelled by the aid solicited from France in the American war (and that aid gratuitously given) that the gratitude of America was to be shown, and the solicitude spoken of in the letter demon- strated ■? As the letter was addressed to the Committee of Public Safety, Mr. Washington did not expect it would get abroad in the world, or be seen by any other eye than that of Robespierre, or be heard by any other ear than that of the Committee; that it would pass as a whisper across the Atlantic from one dark chamber to the other, and there terminate. It was calculated to remove from the mind of the committee all suspicion upon Jay's mission to England, and in this point of view it was suited to the circumstances of the move- ment then passing ; but as the event of that mission has proved the letter to be hypocritical, it serves no other purpose of the present moment than to show that the writer is not to be credited. Two circumstances serve to make the reading of the letter necessary in the Convention : the one was, that they who succeeded on the fall of Robespierre, found it most proper to act with publicity ; the other, to extinguish the suspicions which the strange conduct of Morris had occasioned in France. AVhen the British treaty and the ratification of it by Mr. Wash- ington were known in France, all further declarations from him of his good disposition as an ally and a friend, passed for so many cyphers ; but still it appeared necessary to him to keep up the farce of declarations. It is stipulated in the British treaty, that commissioners are to report at the end of two years, on the case of neutral ships making neutral property. In the mean time, neutral ships do not make neutral property according to the British treaty, and they do according to the French treaty. The preserva- tion, therefore, of the French treaty became of great importance to 30 LETTER TO WASHINGTON. England, as by that means she can employ American ships as car- riers while the same advantage is denied to France. Whether the French treat}"^ could exist as a matter of right after this clandestine perversion of it, could not but give some apprehensions to the parti- zans of the British treaty, and it became necessary to them to make up by fine words what was wanting in good actions. An opportunity offered to that purpose. The Convention, on the public reception of Mr. Monroe, ordered the American flag and the French flag to be displayed unitedly in the hall of the Convention. Mr. Monroe made a present of an American flag for the purpose. The Convention returned this compliment, by sending a French flag to America, to be presented by their minister, Mr. Adet, to the American government. This resolution passed long before Jay's treaty was known or suspected: it passed in the days of confi- dence; but the flag was not presented by Mr. Adet till several months after the treaty had been ratified. Mr. Washington made this the occasion of saying some fine things to the French minister; and the better to get himself into tune to do this, he began by say- ing the finest things of himself. " Born, sir," said he, " in a land of liberty ; having learned its •'value; having engaged in a perilous conflict to defend it ; having, "in a word, devoted the best years of my life to secure its perma- "nent establishment in my own country ; mi/ anxious recollections, "my sympathetic feelings, and mt/ best wishes, are irresistibly ex- " cited, whenever, in any country, I see an oppressed people un- "furl the banner of freedom." Mr. Washington, having expended so many fine phrases upon himself, was obliged to invent a new one for the French, and he calls them " Wonderful people !" The coalesced powers acknowledged as much. It is laughable to hear Mr. Washington talk of his sympathetic feelings, who has always been remarked, even among his friends, for not having any. He has, however, given no proofs of any to me. As to the pompous encomiums he so liberally pays to himself on the score of the American revolution, the propriety of them may be questioned; and since he has forced them so much into notice, it is fair to examine his pretensions. A stranger might be led to suppose, from the egotism with which Mr. Washington speaks, that himself, and himself only, had gene- rated, conducted, completed, established, the revolution. In fine, that it was all his own doing. LETTER TO WASHINGTON. 31 In the first place, as to the political part, he had no share in it ; and, therefore, the whole oi that is out of the question with respect to him. There remains, then, only the military part ; and it would have been prudent in Mr. Washington not to have awakened in- quiry upon that subject. Fame then was cheap ; he enjoyed it cheaply ; and nobody was disposed to take away the laurels that, whether they were acquired or not, had been given. Mr. Washington's merit consisted in constancy. But constancy was the common virtue of the revolution. Who was there that was inconstant? I know but of one military defection, that of Arnold, and I know of no political defection, among those who made them- selves eminent when the revolution was formed by the Declaration of Independence. Even Silas Deane, though he attempted to de- fraud, did not betray. But when we speak of military character, something more is to be understood than constancy ; and something more ought to be understood than the Fabian system of doing nothing. The nothing part can be done by any body. Old Mrs. Thompson, the house- keeper of head quarters, (who threatened to make the sun and the wind shine through Rivington of New York,) could have done it as well as Mr. Washingron. Deborah would have been as good as Barak. Mr. Washington had the nominal rank of commander-in-chief, but he was not so in fact. He had, in reality, only a separate com- mand. He had no control over, or direction of, the army to the northward under Gates, that captured Burgoyne ; or of that to the south under Greene, that recovered the southern states.* The no- minal rank, however, of commander-in-chief, served to throw upon him the lustre of those actions, and to make him appear as the soul and centre of all military operations in America. He commenced his command June, 1775, during the time the Massachusetts army lay before Boston, and after the affair of Bun- ker's Hill. The commencement of his command was the com- mencement of inactivity. Nothing was afterwards done, or at- tempted to be done, during the nine months he remained before Boston. If we may judge from the resistance made at Concord, and afterwards at Bunker's Hill, there was a spirit of enterprise at tliat time, which the presence of Mr. Washington chilled into cold de- * See Mr. Winterbotham's valuable History of America, lately pub. ijshed. 3^ LETTER TO WASHINGTON. fence. By the advantage of a good exterior he attracts respect, which his habitual silence tends to preserve ; but he has not the talent of inspiring ardor in an army. The enemy removed from Boston to Halifax, in March, 1776, to wait for reinforcements from Europe, and to take a more advantageous position at New York. The inactivity of the campaign of 1775, on the part of General Washington, when the enemy had a less force than in any other future period of the war, and the injudicious choice of positions taken by him jn the campaign of 1776, when the enemy had its greatest force, necessarily produced the losses and misfortunes that marked that gloomy campaign. The positions taken were either islands or necks of land. In the former, the enemy, by the aid of their sliijis, could bring their whole force against a part of General Washington's, as in the affair of Long Island ; and in the latter, he might be shut up as in the bottom of a bag. This had nearly been the case at New York, and it was so in part ; it was actually the case at Fort Washington ; and it would have been the case at Fort Lee, if General Greene had not moved precipitately off, leaving every thing behind, and by gaining Hackinsuch bridge, got out of the bag of Bergen Neck. How far Mr. Washington, as General, is blameable for these matters, I am not undertaking to determine ; but they are evidently defects in military geography. The success- ful skirmishes at the close of that campaign, (matters that would scarcely be noticed in a better state of things,) make the brilliant exploits of General Washington's seven campaigns. No wonder we see so much pusillanimity in the President, Avhen we see so little enterprise in the General ! The campaign of 1777 became famous, not by any thing on the part of General Washington, but by the capture of General Bur- goyne, and the army under his command, by the northern army at Saratoga, under General Gates. So totally distinct and unconnect- ed were the two armies of Washington and Gates, and so indepen- dent was the latter of the authority of the nominal commander-in- chief, that the two Generals did not so much as correspond, and it was only by a letter of General (since Governor) Clinton, that General Washington was informed of that event. The British took possession of Philadelphia this year, which they evacuated the next, just time enough to save their heavy baggage and fleet of transports from capture by the French Admiral D'Estaign, who arrived at the mouth of the Delaware soon after. LETTER TO WASUINGTON. 33 The capture of Burgoyne gave an eclat in Europe to the Ame- rican arms, and facilitated the alliance with France. The eclat, however, was not kept up hy any thing on the part of General Washington. The same unfortunate languor that marked his en- trance into the field, continued always. Discontent hegan to pre- vail strongly against him, and a party was formed in Congress, whilst sitting at Yorktown, in Pennsylvania, for removing him from the command of the army. The hope, however, of better times, the news of the alliance with France, and the unwillingness of show- ing discontent, dissipated the matter. Nothing was done in the campaign of 1778, 1779, 1780, in the part where General Washington commanded, except the taking Stony Point by General Wayne. The southern states in the moan time were overrun by the enemy. They were afterwards recover- ed by General Greene, who had in a very great measure created the army that accomplished that recovery. In all this General AVashington had no share. The Fabian system of war, followed by him, began now to unfold itself with all its evils ; for what is Fabian war without Fabian means to support it ] The finances of Con- gress depending wholly on emissions of paper money, were ex- hausted. Its credit was gone. The continental treasury was not able to pay the expense of a brigade of wagons to transport the necessary stores to the army, and yet the sole object, the establish- ment of the revolution, was a thing of remote distance. The time I am now speaking of is in the latter end of the year 1780. ■ In this situation of things it was found not only expedient, but absolutely necessary, for Congress to state the whole case to its ally. I know more of this matter, (before it came into Congress, or was known to General Washington,) of its progress, and its issue, than I choose to state in this letter. Colonel John Laurens was sent to France, as an envoy extraordinary on this occasion, and by a pri- vate agreement between him and me, I accompanied him. We sailed from Boston in the Alliance frigate, February 11th, 1781. France had already done much in accepting and payinsf bills drawn by Congress ; she was now called upon to do more. The event of Colonel Laurens's mission, with the aid of the venerable minister, Franklin, was, that France gave in money, as a present, six millions of livres, and ten millions more as a loan, and agreed to send a fleet of not less than thirty sail of the line, at her own expense, as an aid to America. Colonel Laurens and myself returned from Brest E 34 LETTER TO WASHINGTON. the first of June following, taking with us two millions and a half of livres (upwards of one hundred thousand pounds sterling) of the money given, and convoying two ships with stores. We arrived at Boston the 25th of August following. De Grasse arrived with the French fleet in the Chesapeake at the same time, and was afterwards joined by that of Barras, making thirty-one sail of the line. The money was transported in wagons from Boston to the Bank of Philadelphia, of which Mi*. Thomas Willing, who has since put himself at the head of the list of petitioners in favor of the British treaty, was then president. And it Avas by the aid of this money, and this fleet, and of Rochambeau's army, that Cornwallis was taken ; the laurels of which have been unjustly given to Mr. Washington. His merit in that afl'air was no more than that of any other American ofiicer. 1 have had, and still have, as much pride in the American revolu- tion as any man, or as Mr. Washington has a right to have ; but that pride has never made me forgetful whence the great aid came that completed the business. Foreign aid (that of France) was calculated upon at the commencement of the revolution. It is one of the sub- jects treated of in the pamphlet Common Sense, but as a matter that could not be hoped for, unless independence was declared. The aid, however, was greater than could have been expected. It is as well the ingratitude as the pusillanimity of Mr. Washing- ton, and the Washington faction, that has brought upon America the loss of character she now suffers in the world, and the numer- ous evils her commerce has undergone, and to which it is still ex- posed. The British ministry soon found out what sort of men they had to deal with, and they dealt with them accordingly ; and if further explanation was wanting, it has been fully given since, in the snivelling address of the New York Chamber of Commerce to the president, and in that of sundry merchants of Philadelphia, which was not much better. When the revolution of America was finally established by the termination of the war, the world gave her credit for great charac- ter ; and she had nothing to do but to stand firm upon that ground. The British ministry had their hands too full of trouble to have pro- voked a rupture with her, had she shown a proper resolution to de- fend her rights: but encouraged as they were by the submissive character of the American administration, they proceeded from in- sult to insult, till none more were left to be offered. The proposals LETTER TO WASHINGTON. 35 made by Sweden and Denmark to the American government, were disreffardcd. I know not if so much as an answer has been return- ed to them. The minister penitent iary, (as some of the British prints called him,) Mr. Jay, was sent on a pilgrimage to London, to make all up by penance and petition. In the mean time the lengthy and drowsy writer of the pieces signed Camillus held him- self in reserve to vindicate every thing ; and to sound in America the tocsin of terror upon the inexhaustible resources of England. Her resources, says he, are greater than those of all the other pow- ers. This man is so intoxicated with fear and finance, that he knows not the difference heXwecn plus and minus — between a hun- dred pounds in hand, and a hundred pounds worse than nothing. The commerce of America, so far as it had been established, by all the treaties that had been formed prior to that by Jay, was free, and the principles upon which it was established were good. That ground ought never to have been departed from. It was the justi- fiable ground of right ; and no temporary difficulties ought to have induced an abandonment of it. The case is now otherwise. The ground, the scene, the pretensions, the every thing is changed. The commerce of America is, by Jay's treaty, put under foreign domi- nion. Tiie sea is not free for her. Her right to navigate it is re- duced to the right of escaping ; that is, until some ship of England or France stops her vessels, and carries them into port. Every article of American produce, whether from the sea or the sand, fish, flesh, vegetable, or manufacture, is, by Jay's treaty, made either contraband or seizable. Nothing is exempt. In all other treaties of commerce, the article which enumerates the contraband articles, such as fire arms, gunpowder, &.C., is followed by another, which enumerates the articles not contraband ; but it is not so in Jay's treaty. There is no exempting article. Its olace is supplied by the article for seizing and carrying into port : and the sweeping phrase of pi-ovisions and other articles includes every thing. There never was such a base and servile treaty of surrender, since treaties began to exist. This is the ground upon which America now stands. All her rights of commerce and navigation are to begin anew, and that with loss of character to begin with. If there is sense enough left in the heart to call a blush into the cheek, the Washington administration must be ashamed to appear. And as to you. Sir, treacherous in private friendship (for so you have been to me, and that in the day 36 LETTER TO WASHINGTON. of danger) and a hypocrite in public life, the world will be puzzled to decide, whether you are an APOSTATE or an IMPOSTOR ? Whether you have abandoned good principles, or whether you ever had any ? "THOMAS PAINE." APPEIVDIX MEMORIAL OF THOMAS PAINE TO MR. MONROE, ALLUDED TO IN THE FOREGOING LETTER. Luxembourg, September 10, 1794. I ADDRESS this memorial to you, in consequence of a letter I re- ceived from a friend 18th Fructidor, (September 14th,) in which he says, " Mr. Monroe has told me, that he has no orders (meaning " from the Congress) respecting you ; but I am sure he will leave " nothing undone to liberate you. But, from what I can learn, from " all the late Americans, you are not considered either by the go- " vernment, or by the individuals, as an American citizen. You ** have been made a French citizen, which you have accepted, " and you have further made yourself a servant of the French re- " public ; and, therefore, it would be out of character for an Ame- " rican minister to interfere in their internal concerns. You must " therefore either be liberated out of compliance to America, or *' stand your trial, which you have a right to demand." This information was so unexpected by me, that I am at a loss how to answer it. I know not on what principle it originates ; whether from an idea that I had voluntarily abandoned my citizen- ship of America for that of France, or from any article of the Ame- rican constitution applied to me. The first is untrue with respect to any intention on my part ; and the second is without founda- tion, as I shall show in the course of this memorial. The idea of conferring honor of citizenship upon foreigners, who had distinguished themselves in propagating the principles of liberty and humanity, in opposition to despotism, war, and bloodshed, was first proposed by me to La Fayette, at the commencement of the French revolution, when his heart appeared to be warmed by those principles. My motive in making tiiis proposal, was to ren- der the people of different nations more fraternal than they had been, or then were. I observed that almost every branch of science had possessed itself of the exercise of this right, so flir as it regarded its institution. Most of the academies and societies in Europe, and also those of America, conferred the rank of honorary member, upon foreigners eminent in knowledge, and made them, in fact, citizens of their literary or scientific republic ; without affecting or anywise diminishing their rights of citizenship in their own country or in other societies : and why the science of government should not have the same advantage, or why the people in one nation should not, by their representatives, exercise the right of conferring the honor of citizenship upon individuals eminent in another nation, without affecting their rights of citizenship, is a problem yet to be solved. I now proceed to remark on that part of the letter, in which the writer says, that, "/rom all he can learn from the late Americans^ " / am not considered in America^ either by the government or by " the individuals, as an American citizen." In the first place I wish to ask, what is here meant by the go- vernment of America ? The members who compose the govern- ment, are only individuals when in conversation, and who, most probably, hold very different opinions upon the subject. Have Congress as a body made any declaration respecting me, that they now no longer consider me as a citizen? If ihey have not, any thing they otherwise say, is no more than the opinion of individu- als, and consequently is not legal authority, or anywise sufficient authority to deprive any man of his citizenship. Besides, whether a man has forfeited his rights of citizenship, is a question not deter- minable by Congress, but by a court of judicature, and a jury ; and must depend upon evidence, and the application of some law or article of the constitution to the case. No such proceeding has yet been had, and consequently I remain a citizen until it be had, be that decision what it may ; for there can be no such thing as a sus- pension of rights in the interim. I am very well aware, and always was, of the article of the con- stitution which says, as nearly as I can recollect the words, that " any citizen of the United States, who shall accept any title, place, " or office, from any foreign king, prince, or state, shall forfeit and " lose his right of citizenship of the United States." Had the article said, that any citizen of the United States, who shall be a member of any foreign convention, for the purpose of forming a free constitution, shall forfeit and lose the right of citi- zenship of the United States, the article had been directly applica- ble to me ; but the idea of such an article never could have entered the mind of the American convention, and the present article is altogether foreign to the case with respect to me. It supposes a government in active existence, and not a government dissolved ; and it supposes a citizen of America, accepting titles and offices under that government, and not a citizen of America, who gives his assistance in a convention, chosen by the people, for the pur- pose of forming a government de novo, founded on their authority. The late constitution and government of France was dissolved the 10th of August, 1792. The national legislative assembly then in being, supposed itself without sufficient authority to continue its sittings, and it proposed to the departments to elect, not another legislative assembly, but a convention for the express purpose of forming a new constitution. When the assembly were discoursing on this matter, some of the members said, that they wished to gaia all the assistance possible upon the subject of free constitutions ; and expressed a wish to elect and invite foreigners of any nation to the convention, who had distinguished themselves in defending, explain- ing, and propagating the principles of liberty. It was on this occa- sion that my name was mentioned in the assembly. After this, a deputation from a body of the French people, in order to remove any objection that might be made against my assisting at the pro- posed convention, requested the assembly, as their representatives, to give me the title of French Citizen ; after which, I was elected a member of the French convention, in four different departments, as is already known. The case, therefore, is, that I accepted nothing from any king, prince, or state ; or from any government: for France was without any government, except what arose from common consent, and the necessity of the case. Neither did " / make myself a servant of the French republic,'''' as the letter alluded to expresses ; for at that time France was no republic, not even in name. She was altogether a people in a state of revolution. It was not until the convention met, that France was declared a republic, and monarchy abolished ; soon after which, a committee was elected, of which I was a member, to form a constitution, which 40 APPENDIX. was presented to the convention the loth and 16th of February following, but was not to be taken into consideration till after the expiration of two months, and if approved of by the convention, was then to be referred to the people for their acceptance, with such additions or amendments as the convention should make. In thus employing myself upon the formation of a constitution, I certainly did nothing inconsistent with the American constitution. I took no oath of allegiance to France, or any other oath whatever. I considered the citizenship they had presented me, as an honorary mark of respect paid to me not only as a friend to liberty, but as an American citizen. My acceptance of that, or the deputyship, not conferred on me by any king, prince, or state, but by a people in a state of revolution, and contending for liberty, required no transfer of my allegiance, or of my citizenship, from America to France. There I was a real citizen, paying taxes ; here, I was a voluntary friend, employing myself on a temporary service. Every American in Paris knew that it was my constant intention to return to America, as soon as a constitution should be established, and that I anxiously waited for that event. I ever must deny, that the article of the American constitution already mentioned, can be applied either verbally, intentionally, or constructively, to me. It undoubtedly was the intention of the con- vention that framed it, to preserve the purity of the American re- public from being debased by foreign and foppish customs ; but it never could be its intention to act against the principles of liberty, by forbidding its citizens to assist in promoting those principles in foreign countries.; neither could it be its intention to act against the principles of gratitude. France had aided America in the esta- blishment of her revolution, when invaded and oppressed by En- gland and her auxiliaries. France in her turn was invaded and op]>ressed by a combination of foreign despots. \n this situation, I conceived it an act of gratitude in me, as a citizen of America, to render her in return the best services I could perform. I came to France (for I was in England when when I received the invitation) not to enjoy ease, emoluments, and foppish honors, as the article supposes ; but to encounter difficulties and dangers in defence of liberty ; and I much question whether those who now malignantly seek (for some I believe do) to turn this to my injury, would have had courage to have done the same. I am sure Governeur Morris would not. He told me the second day after my arrival, (in Paris,) APPENDIX. 41 that the Austrians and Prussians, who were then at Verdun, would be in Paris in a fortnight. I have no idea, said he, that seventy thousand disciplined troops can be stopped in their march by any power in France. Besides the reasons I have already given for accepting the invi- tation to the Convention, I had another that has reference particu- larly to America, which I mentioned to Mr. Pinkney the night before I left London to come to Paris : " That it was to the in- " terest of America that the system of European governments " should be changed and placed on the same principle with her " own." It is certain that governments upon similar systems agree better together than those that are founded on principles discordant with each other ; and the same rule holds good with respect to the peo- ple living under them. In the latter case they offend each other by pity, or by reproach ; and the discordancy carries itself to matters of commerce. I am not an ambitious man, but perhaps I have been an ambitious American. I have wished to see America the mother church of government. I have now stated sufficient matter, to show that the article in question is not applicable to me ; and that any such application to my injury, as well in circuumstances as in rights, is contrary both to the letter and intention of that article, and is illegal and uncon stitutional. Neither do I believe that any jury in America, when they are informed of the whole of the case, would give a verdict to deprive me of my rights upon that article. The citizens of Ameri- ca, I believe, are not very fond of permitting forced and indirect explanations to be put upon matters of this kind. I know not what were the merits of the case with respect to the person who was prosecuted for acting as prize master to a French privateer, but I know that the jury gave a verdict against the prosecution. The rights I have acquired are dear to me. They have been acquired by honorable means, and by dangerous service in the worst of times, and I cannot passively permit them to be wrested from me. I conceive it my duty to defend them, as the case involves a con- stitutional and public question, which is, how far the power of the federal government extends, in depriving any citizen of his rights of citizenship, or of suspending them. That the explanation of national treaties belongs to Congress is strictly constitutional ; but not the explanation of the constitution 42 APPENMX. itself, any more than the explanation of law in the case of individual citizens. These are altogether judiciary questions. It is, however, worth observing, that Congress in explaining the article of the treaty with respect to French prizes and French privateers, confined itself strictly to the letter of the article. Let them explain the article of the constitution with respect to me in the same manner, and the decision, did it appertain to them, could not deprive me of my rights of citizenship, or sus{)end them, for I have accepted nothing from any king, prince, state, or government. You will please to observe, that I speak as if the federal govern- ment had made some declaration upon the subject of my citizen- ship ; whereas the fact is otlierwise ; and your saying that you have no order respecting me, is a proof of it. They, therefore, who propagate the report of my not being considered as a citizen of America by government, do it to the prolongation of my imprison- ment, and without authority ; for Congress, as a government, has neither decided upon it, nor yet taken the matter into considera- tion; and I request you to caution such persons against spreading such reports. But be these matters as they may, I cannot have a doubt that you find and feel the case very different, since you have heard what I have to say, and known better what my situation is than you did before your arrival. Painful as the want of liberty may be, it is a consolation to me to believe, that my imprisonment proves to the world, that I had no share in the murderous system that then reigned. That I was an enemy to it, both morally and politically, is known to all who had any knowledge of me ; and could I have written French as well as I can English, I would publicly have exposed its wickedness, and shown the ruin with which it was pregnant. They who have esteemed me on former occasions, whether in America or in Eu- rope, will, I know, feel no cause to abate that esteem, when they reflect, that imprisonment with preservation of character, is prefer' able to liberty with disgrace. The letter before quoted in the first page of this memorial, says, " It would be out of character for an American minister to interfere " in the internal afiairs of France." Tljis goes on the idea that I am a citizen of France, and a member of the Convention ; which is not the fact. The Convention have declared me to be a foreigner ; and consequently the citizenship and the election are null and void. It also has the appearance of a decision, that the article of the con- APPENDIX. 43 stitution, respecting grants made to American citizens by foreign kings, princes, or states, is applicable to me ; which is the very point in question, and against the application of which I contend. I state evidence to the minister, to show that I am not within the letter or meaning of that article ; tiiat it cannot operate against me ; and 1 apply to him for the protection that I conceive I have a right to ask and to receive. The internal affairs of France are out of the question with respect to my application, or his interference. I ask it not as a citizen of France, for I am not one ; I ask it not as a member of the Convention, for I am not one ; both these, as before said, have been rendered null and void ; I ask it not as a man against whom there is any accusation, for there is none ; I ask it not as an exile from America, whose liberties I have honorably and generously contributed to establish ; I ask it as a citizen of Ame- rica, deprived of his liberty in France, under the plea of being a foreigner ; and I ask it because I conceive I am entitled to it, upon every principle of constitutional justice and national honor. LETTERS CITIZENS OF THE UNITED STATES. LETTER I. After an absence of almost fifteen years, 'I am again returned to the country in whose dangers I bore my share, and to whose greatness I contributed my part. When I sailed for Europe, in the spring of 1787, it was my in- tention to return to America the next year, and enjoy in retirement the esteem of my friends, and the repose I was entitled to. I had stood out the storm of one revolution, and had no wish to embark in another. But other scenes and other circumstances than those of contemplated ease were allotted to me. The French revolution was beginning to germinate when I arrived in France. The prin- ciples of it were good, they were copied from America, and the men who conducted it were honest. But the fury of faction soon extin- guished the one, and sent the other to the scaffold. Of those who began that revolution, I am almost the only survivor, and that through a thousand dangers. I owe this not to the prayers of priests, nor to the piety of hypocrites, but to the continued protec- tion of Providence. But while I beheld with pleasure, the dawn of liberty rising in Europe, I saw with regret the lustre of it fading in America. In less than two years from the time of my departure, some distant symptoms painfully suggested the idea that tlie principles of the revolution were expiring on the soil that produced them. I receiv- ed at that time a letter from a female literary correspondent, and in my answer to her, I expressed my fears on that head, in the follow- ing pensive soliloquy. 46 LETTERS TO THE CITIZENS " You tuuch me on a very tender point, when you say that my friends on your side the water cannot be reconciled to the idea of my abandoning America, even for my native England. They are right ; I had rather see my horse Button eating the grass of Bor- dentown or Morisania, than see all the pomp and show of Europe. " A thousand years hence, for I must indulge a few thoughts, perhaps in less, America may be what Europe now is. The inno- cence of her character, that won the hearts of all nations in her fa- vor, may sound like a romance, and her inimitable virtue as if it had never been. The ruins of that liberty, for which thousands have bled, may just furnish materials for a village tale, or extort a sigh from rustic sensibility; whilst the fashionable of that day, en- v'eloped in dissipation, shall deride the principles and deny the fact. " When we contemplate the fall of empires, and the extinction of the nations of the ancient world, we see but little more to excite our regret, than the mouldering ruins of pompous palaces, magnifi- cent monuments, lofty pyramids, and walls and towers of the most costly workmanship : but when the empire of America shall fall, the subject for contemplative sorrow will be infinitely greater than crumbling brass or marble can in inspire. It will not then be said, here stood a temple of vast antiquity, here rose a Babel of invisible height, or there a palace of sumptuous extravagance ; but here ! ah painful thought! the noblest work of human wisdom — the grandest scene of human glory, the fair caus.e of freedom rose and fell. Read this, and then ask if I forget America." I now know from the information I obtain upon the spot, that the impressions that then distressed me, for I was proud of Ameri- ca, were but too well founded. She was turning her back on her own glory, and making hasty strides in the retrograde path of obli- vion. But a spark from the altar of Seventi/-six, unextinguished and unextinguishable through that long night of error, is again lighting up, in every part of the Union, the genuine flame of rational liberty. As the French revolution advanced, it fixed the attention of the world, and drew from the pensioned pen of Edmund Burke a furi- ous attack. This brought me once more on the public theatre of politics, and occasioned the pamphlet Rights of Man. It had the greatest run of any work ever published in the English language. The number of copies circulated in England, Scotland, and Ireland, besides translations into foreign languages, was between four and ^ve hundred thousand. The principles of that work were the same OF THE UNITED STATES. 47 as those in Common Sense, and the effects would have been the same in England as that had produced in America^ could the vote of the nation have been quietly taken, or had equal opportunities of consulting or acting existed. The only difference between the two works was, that the one was adapted to the local circumstances of England, and the other to those of America. As to myself, I acted in both cases alike : I relinquished to the people of England, as I had done to those of America, all profits from the work. My re- ward existed in the ambition to do good, and the independent hap- piness of my own mind. But a faction, acting in disguise, was rising in America ; they had lost sight of first principles. They were beginning to contem- plate government as a profitable monopoly, and the people as heri- ditary property. It is, therefore, no wonder that the Rights of Man was attacked by that faction, and its author continually abused. But let them go on, give them rope enough, and they will put an end to their own insignificance. There is too much common sense and independence in America to be long the dupe of any faction, foreign or domestic. But, in the midst of the freedom we enjoy, the licentiousness of the papers called federal, (and I know not why they are called so, for they are in their principles anti-federal and despotic,) is a dis- honor to the character of the country, and an injury to its reputa- tion and importance abroad. . They represent the whole people of America as destitute of public principle and private manners. As to any injury they can do at home to those whom they abuse, or service they can render to those who employ them, it is to be set down to the account of noisy nothingness. It is on themselves the disgrace recoils, for the reflection easily presents itself to every thinking mind, that those ivho abuse liberty when they possess it would abuse power could they obtain it ; and, therefore, they may as well take as a general motto, for all such papers, IVe and ou^ patrons are not ^t to be trusted with power. There is in America, more than in ajiy other country, a large body of people who attend quietly to their farms, or follow their several occupations, who pay no regard to the clamors of anony- mous scribblers, who think for themselves, and judge of govern- ment, not by the fury of newspaper writers, but by the prudent frugality of its measures, and the encouragement it gives to the improvement and prosperity of the country, and who, acting on 48 LETTER TO THE CITIZENS their own judgment, never come forward in an election but on some important occasion. When tliis body moves, all the little barkings of scribbling and witless curs pass for nothing. To say to this independent descrip- tion of men, You must turn out such and such persons at the next election, for they have taken off a great many taxes, and lessened the expenses of government, they have dismissed my son, or my brother, or myself, from a lucrative otTice, in which there was no- thing to do — is to show the cloven foot of faction, and preach the language of ill disguised mortification. In every part of the Union, this faction is in the agonies of death, and in proportion as its fate approaches, gnashes its teeth and struggles. My arrival has struck it as with an hydrophobia, it is like the sight of water to canine madness. As this letter is intended to announce my arrival to my friends, and to my enemies, if I have any, for I ought to have none in America, and as introductory to others that will occasionally follow, I shall close it by detailing the line of conduct I shall pursue. I have no occasion to ask, and do not intend to accept any place or office in the government. There is none it could give me that would bo any ways equal to the profits I could make as an author, for I have an established fame in the literary world, could I recon- cile it to my principles to make money by my politics or religion ; 1 must be in every thing what I have ever been, a disinterested volunteer; my proper sphere of action is on the common floor of citi/.enship, and to honest men I give my hand and my heart freely. I liave some manuscript works to publish, of which I shall give proper notice, and some mechanical affairs to bring forward, that will employ all my leisure time. I shall continue these letters as 1 see occasion, and as to the low party prints that choose to abuse me, they are welcome, I shall not descend to answer them. I have been too much used to such common stuff to take any notice of it. The government of England honored me with a thousand martyr- doms, by burning me in effigy in every town in that country, and their hirelings in America may do the same. THOMAS PAINE. Citi/ of Washington. or THE UNITED STATES. 49 LETTER II. As the affairs of the country, to which I am returned, are of more importance to the world and to me, than of that I have lately left, (for it is through the new world the old must be regenerated, if regenerated at all,) I shall not take up the time of the reader with an account of scenes that have passed in France, many of which are painful to remember and horrid to relate, but come at once to the circumstances in which t find America on njy arrival. Fourteen years, and something more, have produced a change, at least among a part of the people, and I ask myself what it is ? I meet or hear of thousands of my former connexions, who are men of the same principles and friendships as when I left them. But a non-descript race, and of equivocal generation, assuming the name of federalist, a name that describes no character of principle good or bad, and may equally be applied to either, has since started up with the rapidity of a mushroom, and like a mushroom, is withering on its rootless stalk. Are those men federalized to support the liberties of their country or to overturn them 1 To add to its fair fame or riot on its spoils ? The name contains no defined idea. It is like John Adams's definition of a republic in his letter to Mr. Wytlie of Virginia, It is, says he, a7i empire oflatvs and not of men. But as laws may be bad as well as good, an en)pire of laws may be the best of all governments or the worst of all tyrannies. But John Adams is a man of paradoxical heresies, and consequently of a bewildered mind. He wrote a book entitled, " A Defence of the American Constitutions,^^ and the principles of it are an attack upon them. But the book is descended to the tomb of forgetfa'- ness, and the best fortune that can attend its author is quietly lo follow its fate. John was not born for immortality. But, to retura to federalism^ In the history of parties and the names they assvmie, it often happens, that they finish by the direct contrary principles v/:lh which they profess to begin, and thus it has happened with federalism. During the time of the old Ccngres?, and prior to the establish- ment of the federal government, the continental belt was too loosely buckled. The several states were united in name but not in fact, tnd tiiat nominal union had neither centre nor circle. The laws of 50 LETTER TO THE CITIZENS one state frequentl^y Interfered with, and sometimes opposed, those of another. Commerce between state and state was without pro- tection, and confidence without a point to rest on. The condition tlie couatry was then in, was aptly described by Pelatiali Webster, vhen he said, " thirteen staves and ne''cr a hoop will not make a harreV^ If, then, by feaeralist is to be understcod one who was for co- mentingthe Union by a general government oper:;:;:ig equally over al! the states, in all matters that embraced the conia.or. iftti-rest, and to which the authority of the states severally M'as riui adeqimu-, for no one state can make laws to bind another ; if, I say, by u fcuir\dist is meant a person of this description, (and this is the origin of the name,) I ought to stand first on the list of federalists, for tiie pro- position for establishing a general government over the Union, came originally from me in 1783, in a written memorial to Clia.HcD\^ ^ ?' 1$TS LD21A-60ot-3,'70 (N5382slO)476-A-32 General Liferary University of California Berkeley / Loan uc-f ^ LD 2lA-50m-3/62 (CT097slO) 4:7013 iVJ • Berkeley GENERAL LIBRARY - U.C. 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