^-;>>>>>> PRIVATE* LIBRARY i J. S. LEONHy\F(DT. ^HAT impulse which prompts the - motli to quit its world of night and I enter some radiant realm to whose bourne the white hot flame seems but an open door, is like the desire of man which impels him to % escape the doubt and terror of mental dark- P ness by way of tbose intellectual beacons * commonly known sis books. ft^JwwiS^iiwS^^****''?***., ** COMPLETE WORKS OF THOMAS PAINE. CONTAINING ALL HIS POLITICAL AND THEOLOGICAL WRITINGS, PRECEDED BY A LIFE OF PAINE. BY CALVIN BLANCH A RD. CHICAGO AND NEW YORK : BELFOBD, CLARKE & CO. 1885. PRINTED AND BOUND BY DONOHUE & HENNEBERRY, CHICAGO. 5 SL LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. INTRODUCTION. A PULL and impartial history of THOMAS PAINB alone can supply that, the omission of which falsifies every work pre- tending to give an account of the war for the national inde- pendence of the United Statea The American Revolution of 1776, of which THOMAS PAINE was the author-hero, was the prelude to that far more sanguin- ary struggle against oppression and wrong which overturned, or irreparably shook, every throne in Western Europe; includ- ing, in the category, even the chair of St. Peter; and of which struggle the most prominent author-hero was JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU. This is generally understood. But a truth- incalculably more important has hitherto been either wholly overlooked, or but glimmeringly perceived ; it is this : Both the American and French Revolutions were but prominent incidents, or crisis- stages, in the irrepressible struggle for human rights which commenced when nature implanted in her highest organism, man, that instinct which points to the goal of development; that unconquerable desire for perfect and sufficiently-lasting or " eternal " happiness, which indicates the common aim and attainable end of science, of art, and of all natural, material- istic,, or intelligible activities: that thirst for HV^-^y which can be satisfied by nothing short of the revolution which will remove all constraint which will accomplish revolution and VL INTRODUCTION. t'lus justify LUTHER, ROUSSEAU, PAINE, FOURIER, and all other revolutionists. Of this crowning revolution, the text-book is The Positive Philosophy" of AUGUSTS COMTE. Had Thomas Paine been seconded as valiantly when he made priestcraft howl, as he was when he hurled defiance against kings, despotism by this time would really, instead of only nominally, have lain as low as did its minions at Trenton and Yorktown. The land over which the star-spangled banner waves would not have become the prey of corrupt, spoil-seek- ing demagogues, nor would Europe now tremble at the nod of a military dictator. Not but that priestcraft itself has a substructure, all but " supernaturally " profound, which must be sapped before jus- tice can be more than a mockery, freedom aught but a mere abstraction, or happiness little else than an ignis fatuus. But man should have continued the great battle for his rights wher, the soldiers and author-heroes of liberty were in the full flush of victory ; instead of making that vain, mischievous and ridiculous (except as provisional) compromise with the human inclinations, called duty; and falling back on that miserable armistice between the wretched poor and the unhappy rich, for the conditions of which, consult that refinement of treachery, misnamed a constitution, and that opaque entanglement, ab- surdly entitled law. Can right be done and peace be main- tained, under institutions whose ultimatum is to give half a breakfast to the million, and half a million or so to the balance of mankind, conditioned on such anxiety on the part of the latter, lest they be added to the million before dinner-time, that dyspepsia, rather than nutrition, " waits on appetite ? " Is man irremediably doomed to a condition which, at shorter and INTRODUCTION. shorter intervals, forces him to seek relief in one of those saturnalias of carnage and devastation which throws progress aback, menaces civilization even, and yet but partially and temporarily mitigates human ills ? Is this the whole sum, sub- stance and end of revolution? It appears to me, that they who believe this, and who admire and commend Thomas Paine from their stand-point, dishonor his memory far more than his professed enemies do or can. But to enable all to understandingly form their own conclu- sions, I shall give all the essential facts with respect to the history before us, with which a long and careful search, under most favourable circumstances, has made me acquainted. For, let facts be fairly stated, and truth be fully known, is the corre- late of the proposition (the correctness of which 1 demonstrated in a former work " The Religion of Science ") that nature, sim- ple, scientific and artistic, will prove all-sufficient ; and neither needs, nor admits the possibility of, a superior : that man, therefore, requires nothing more than what nature is capable of being developed into producing ; nor can he know auglit beyond nature, or form what can intelligibly be called an idea of any happiness or good, superior to that which, by means of the substantial, including of course, man himself, can be procured. There needs but to have the light of truth shine fully upon the real character of Thomas Paine, to prove him to have been a far greater man than his most ardent admirers have hitherto given him credit for being. Paine's history is so intimately connected with that of progress, both before and since his time, that it will necessarily embrace a very wide range of liberal information. INTRODUCTION. I am not unmindful that there have been hundreds, perhaps thousands of author-heroes and heroines. Bacon, Locke, Lu- ther, Voltaire,* Fourier, and Robert Owen were prominently of the former, and Mary Wollstonecraft and Frances Wright were decidedly among the latter. But it appears to me, that none of their writings have been quite such text-books of revolution, as those of Rousseau and Paine were, and those of Comte now are. * Schlower, in hia "History of the Eighteenth. Century," whilst speaking of Voltaire, Shaftesbury, and "the numerous deists who were reproachfully called atheiate," wya, that they " wielded the weapons " which Locke "hai LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. PERIOD FIRST. 17371774. FEOM MB. PAINE'S BIKTH TO HIS ABRIVAI, IN AMEBICA. THOMAS PAINE was born in Thetford, Norfolk county, Eng- land, on the 29th of January, 1737. His father was a member of the society of Friends, and a stay maker by trade; his mother professed the faith of the Church of England. At the age of about thirteen years, he left the common school, in which, in addition to the branches of education usually taught therein, he had learned the rudiments of Latin, and went to work with his father. But his school teacher, who had been chaplain on board a man-of-war, had infused into his young and ardent mind such an enthusiasm for the naval service, that after reluctantly toiling about three years at his not very lucra- tive or promising calling, he left home, evidently resolved to " seek the bubble reputation even in the cannon's mouth," and to pursue his fortune through such chances as the war then imminent between his country and France, might offer. Dreadful must have been the conflict between his compas- sionate nature and his necessities and ambition. Arrived in London, without friends or money, he, nevertheless, strove by every means in his power to settle himself honorably in the world, without embracing the dreadful profession he had been both constituted and educated to look upon with horror: he even hesitated so far as to return to his old occupation. After working a few weeks for Mr. Morris, in Hanover street, Long Acre, he went to Dover, where he also worked a short time for a Mr. Grace. 10 PERIOD FIRST. War between England and France had now been declared ; our hero was in all the buoyancy of youth, being not yet seven- teen years old; fortune and glory were possible on the one hand, poverty and toil inevitable on the other. "War is murder, 'tis true; murder, all the more heinous for being gloried in; murder, all the more abominable for the mag- nificence of the scale on which it is perpetrated; murder, which touches the lowest depths of cowardice, in being carried on by vast armies and immense fleets, instead of by smaller and bolder gangs of pirates, and by more venturesome banditti. But its infernal craft would sail, and its death-dealing cannon be manned, equally with or without him; and the place which he refused would be taken, probably by some one with far less tenderness for a wounded or surrendered foe. On board the privateer " Terrible," Captain Death, enlisted, probably in the capacity of a sailor or marine, the man who was afterwards the soul of a revolution which extended elective government over the most fertile portion of the globe, including an area more than twenty times larger than that of Great Britain, and who had the unprecedented honor to be called, though a foreigner, to the legislative councils of the foremost nation in the world. For some unexplained cause, Paine left the " Terrible" almost immediately, and shipped on board the " King of Prussia." But the affectionate remonstrances of his father soon induced him to quit privateering altogether. In the year 1759, he settled at Sandwich, as a master stay- maker. There he became acquainted with a young woman of considerable personal attractions, whose name was Mary Lam- bert, to whom he was married about the end of the same year. His success in business not answering his expectations, he, in the year 1760, removed to Margate. Here his wife died. From Margate he went to London ; thence back again to his native town; where, through the influence of Mr. Cocksedge, the recorder, he, towards the end of 1763, obtained a situation in the excise. Under the pretext of some trifling fault, but really, as there is every reason for supposing, because he was too conscientious to connive at the villainies which were practiced by both his superiors and his compeers in office, he was dismissed from his situation in little more than a year. It has never been publicly stated for what it was pretended that he was dismissed; and PERIOD FIRST. 11 the fact that he was recalled in eleven months thereafter, shows that whatever the charge against him was, it was not substan- tiated, nor probably, a very grave one. That the British govern- ment, in its subsequent efforts to destroy his character, never made any handle of this affair, is conclusive in his favor. During his suspension from the excise, he repaired to London, where he became a teacher in an academy kept by Mr. Noble of Goodman's Fields; and during his leisure hours he applied himself to the study of astronomy and natural philosophy. He availed himself of the advantages which the philosophical lectures of Martin and Ferguson afforded, and made the ac- quaintance of Dr. Bevis, an able astranomer of the Royal Society. On his re-appointment to the excise, Paine returned to Thet- ford, where he continued till the spring of 1768, when the duties of his office called him to Lewes, in Sussex. There he boarded in the family of Mr. Ollive, tobacconist; but at the end of about twelve months, the latter died. Paine succeeded him in business, and in the year 1771, married his daughter. In 1772, he wrote a small pamphlet entitled "The Case of the Excise Officers." Although this was specially intended to cover the case of a very ill-paid class of government officers, it was remarkably clear and concise, showing that the only way to make people honest, is to relieve them from the necessity of being otherwise. This pamphlet excited both the alarm and hatred of his superiors in office, who were living in luxury and ease, and who, besides getting nearly all the pay for doing hardly any of the work, were becoming rich by smuggling, which their posi- tions enabled them to carry on almost with impunity. They spared no pains to pick some flaw in the character or conduct of the author of their uneasiness, but could find nothing of which to accuse him, except that he kept a tobacconist's shop ; this however, under the circumstances, was sufficient, and the most honest, if not the only conscientious exciseman in all England, was finally dismissed, in April, 1774. Paine associated with, and was highly respected by the best society in Lewes, although so poor, that in a month after his dismissal from office, his goods had to be sold to pay his debts; a very strong proof that he had never abused his official trust. I have twice already so far violated my own taste, to please that of others, as to mention that the subject of these memoirs 12 PERIOD FIRST. had been married. But I cannot consent to meddle further with, and assist the public to peer into affairs with which none but the parties immediately concerned have any business, except under protest. Therefore, I do now most solemnly protest, that I feel more guilty, more ashamed, and more as though I ought to have my nose rung, for writing anything at all about Mr. and Mrs. Paine's sexual affairs, than I should, were I to enter into a serious inquiry respecting the manner in which they per- formed any of their natural functions. Still, reader you may be sure of my fidelity; you need not suspect that I'm going to suppress any of the facts, for if I undertake to do a thing, I'll carry it through, if it's ever so mean. To begin, then: In the flowery month of May, exactly one thousand seven hundred and seventy-four years after Jehovah had been pre- sented with a son by a woman whom he never, not even subse- quently married, Mr. and Mrs. Paine separated; not through the intervention of the grim tyrant who had caused the separa- tion between Mr. Paine and his first wife, but for that most heinous of all imaginable causes, in old fogy estimation, mutual consent. On the fourth of June, in the year just designated, Mr. Paine signed articles of agreement, freely relinquishing to his wife all the property of which marriage had legally robbed her for his benefit. This was just; but a Thomas Paine would blush to call it magnanimous. Behold them both, in the prime of life in a predicament in which they were debarred, by the inscrutable wisdom of society, from the legal exercise of those functions on which nearly all their enjoyments, including health itself, depended. All the causes of this separation are not known. Well, I'm heartily glad of it. Yet I delight not in beholding vexation and disappointment, even though the victims are the impertin- ently inquisitive. Still, I repeat, I'm most heartily glad of it. That neither Mr. nor Mrs. Paine abused, or voluntarily even offended each other, is conclusive from the fact that Mr. Paine always spoke very respectfully and kindly of his wife; and, says the veracious Clio Rickman, " frequently sent her money, without letting her know the source whence it came;" and Mrs. Paine always held her husband in such high eeteem, though she differed widely from him in the importantand complicated matter of religion, that if any one spoke disrespectfully of him in her presence, she deigned not a word of answer, but indignantly PERIOD FIRST. 13 left the room, even though she were at table. If questioned on the subject of her separation from her marital partner, she did the same. Sensible woman. " Clio Rickman asserts, and the moat intimate friends of Mr. Paine support him," says Mr. Gilbert Vale in his excellent Life of Paine,* to which I here, once for all, acknowledge myself much indebted, " that Paine never cohabited with his second wife. Sherwin treats the subject as ridiculous; but Clio Rick- man was a man of integrity, and he asserts that he has the documents showing this strange point, together with others, proving that this arose from no physical defects in Paine." When the question was plainly put to Mr. Paine by a friend, instead of spitting in the questioner's face, or kicking him, he replied: "I had a cause; it is no business of anybody." Oh, immortal Paine ! Did you know the feelings which the writ- ing of the five last paragraphs has cost me, you would forgive ; ay, even pity me. And now, dear public, having, to please you, stepped aside from the path of legitimate history, permit me to continue the digression a little, in order to please myself. Surely you can afford some extra attention to one who has sacrificed his feel- ings, and, but for what I am now going to say, will have sacrificed his self-respect, even, for your accommodation. A large portion of the Christian world believes that the mar- riage tie, once formed, should continue till severed by^leath, or adultery. This is supposed to be, first, in accordance with scripture; secondly, in accordance with the best interests of society. " What God hath joined, let not man put asunder," except for " cause of adultery," is the text in the first place, and the prevention of licentiousness, and regard for the in- terests of children, constitute the pretext in the second place. But society blindly jumps to the conclusion that the constantly varying decrees of legislative bodies designate " what God hath joined," and that august body is equally uncritical with respect to what adultery, both according to scripture and common sense, means. When any joining becomes abhorent to the feelings which almighty power has implanted in man, to at- tempt to force the continuance of such joining, under the plea of authority from such power, is most atrocious; and " Jesus," or whoever spoke in his name, thus rationally defines adultery: * This " Life of Thomas Paine," by G. Vale, is published at the office of that most able advocate of free disacussion, the "Boston Investigator." 14 PERIOD FIRST. " Whoso looketh on a woman to lust after her." " Jesus " did not condemn the woman, who, under pressure of legal restric- tion, committed the "very act" of adultery; but he did con- demn her accusers, in the severest and most cutting manner possible. \Ve have already shown the utter disregard which the supposed almighty father of Jesus showed for monogamic marriage; that he did not even respect vested rights in the connection; that he who is believed to have said " be ye per- fect even as I am perfect," trampled on the marital rules according to which the poor carpenter, Joseph, had been be- trothed to his Mary. How well the son of Mary followed in the footsteps of his "Almighty" father, we have already demonstrated; and I shall close all I have to say on the supposed divinity of this subject, by calling the attention of the reader to the high re- spect which " Jesus " paid to the woman who had had five husbands, and who was, at the time he did her the honour to converse with her in public, and to even expound his mission to her, cohabiting with a man to whom she was not married. Nothing in scripture is plainer, than that Jesus was such an out and out free-lover in principle, as to hold that as soon as married people looked on others than each other with lustful eyes, they were no longer so, legally; but that their old con- nections should give place to new ones. In the perfect state which " Jesus " in his parabolical language called " Heaven," he explicitly declared, in reference to what the old fogies of his time called marriage, " that they neither marry nor are given in marriage ; " and if " the Saviour " said this in repro- bation of the comparatively slight bondage which encumbered marriage in Judea, eighteen hundred years ago, what would lie say were he to visit Christendom at the present time ? Wouldn't he make the " whip of small cords " with which fie thrashed the money changers, whiz about the ears of those legislators and judges, who dare christen their tyrannical and abominable inventions marriage ! who have the audacity to attribute their wretched expedients and stupid blunders to eternal wisdom 1 So much as to the scriptural view of marriage. For infor- mation as to the effects of " legal marriage " in the cure of licentiousness, and in promoting the welfare of children, con- ult the records of prostitution, the alms-house registers, and PERIOD FIRST. 15 the swarms of beggars, by which you are continually impor- tuned. As to the effect of the " holy bonds " on domestic felicity, I verily believe that if they were suddenly and com- pletely severed, the dealers in arsenic who happened to have but little stock on hand, would bless their lucky stars. And I speak from a knowledge of the causes which either favorably or unfavorably affect the human organism, in saying, that it is perfectly certain, that if the unnatural tie which arrogates the name of marriage, was universally severed, suicide would diminish one-half, idiocy and insanity would '"^LT'O disappear, prolapsus uteri and hysteria would be almost un- 1 ^^*" known, the long catalogue of diseases consequent on hopeless despair, dreary ennui, and chronic fretfulness, would be shorn of nine-tenths its present length, the makers of little shrouds and coffins would have little or nothing to do, and the business of abortionists would be ruined. In short, if matrimonial bondage was abolished, and our social structure reorganized, so as to correspond with the change, the " broken spirit " that "drieth the bones," would so give place to "the merry heart, that doeth good like a medicine," that little of the doctor's medicine would be needed; and human life would receive an accession of at least twenty per cent, in length, and one hun- P^t/^ C dred per cent, in value. fLt^ But indissoluble marriage, and its correlates, adultery, for- nication, prostitution, the unmentionable crime against nature, and masturbation, are part and parcel of the present imperfect condition of all things in man's connection; of the remedy for which, I shall treat, when I come to consider the universality and thoroughness of the revolution in which Paine was, with- out but glimmeringly perceiving it, so efficient an actor. In 1774, Mr. Paine went again to London; where, soon after his arrival, he made the acquaintance of Dr. Franklin (then on an embassy to the British government, from one of her North American provinces), who, perceiving in him abili- ties of no ordinary character, advised him to quit his native country, where he was surrounded by so many difficulties, and try his fortune in America; he also gave him a letter of introduction to one of his most intimate friends in Phila- delphia. Paine left England towards the end of the year 1774, and arrived in Philadelphia about two months thereafter. PEBIOD SECOND. PERIOD SECOND. 17741787. FBOH MB. PAINB'S ARRIVAL IN AMERICA, TO HIS DEPARTURE FOB FBANCB; EMBRACING HIS TRANSACTIONS IN THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. SHORTLY after the arrival of Mr. Paine in America, he was engaged as editor of the " Pennsylvania Magazine," the publi- cation of which had just been commenced, by Mr. Aitkin, bookseller, of Philadelphia. This brought him acquainted with Dr. Rush. Up to this period, Paine had been a whig. But from the practical tone of much of his editorial, it is probable that he now began to suspect that that speculative abstraction, British constitutionalism, had exhausted its usefulness in the economy of the social organism ; and that human progress could reach a higher plane than that, the foundations of which were a theological church establishment, and its corresponding hotch- potch of kings, lords, and commons. And here I will remark, that Paine's distinguishing characteristic the trait which con- stituted his greatness was his capability of being ahead of his time. Were he bodily present now, he would be as far in advance of the miserable sham of freedom to which the major- ityism which he advocated, though provisionally necessary, has dwindled, as he was in advance of the governmental expedient, which reached the stage of effeteness in his day. " The Cri- sis," instead of commencing with " These are the times that try men souls," would begin with " These are the times that exhaust men's power of endurance." Demagogism, with the whole power of the majority to enforce its tyranny, has de- clared that "to the victors belong the spoils;" that it has a right to bind the minority in all cases whatsoever. Its reck- lessness is in complete contrast with the regard which even Britain pays to the interests of her subjects; and in taxation, and peculation in office, it out-does Auptnan despotism itself. PEEIOD SECOND. 17 "Majorityism has carried its insolence so far as to despise nothing so much as the name and memory of him who risked his life, his honor, his all, to protect its infancy; it has scorn- fully refused his portrait a place on the walls of the very hall which once rang with popular applause of the eloquence which his soul-stirring pleas for elective franchise inspired." "Yes; the city council of Philadelphia has, in 1859, in obedience to the commands of that public opinion, which was the court of last appeal, of him who first, on this continent, dared pronounce the words American Independence, refused, his portrait a place by the side of his illustrious co-workers; thus rebuking, and most impudently insulting Washington, who in an ecstacy of admiration grasped the hand of the author of ' Common Sense,' and invited him to share his table ; Franklin, who invited him to our shores; Lafayette, to whom he was dearer than a brother; Barlow, who pronounced him 'one of the most benevolent and disinterested of mankind;' Thomas Jefferson, who sent a government ship to reconduct him to our shores; and all the friends of popular suffrage in France, who, at the time that tried men's souls there, elected him to their national councils." " Like the Turkish despot who cut off the head and blotted out of existence the family of his prime minister, to whom he owed the preservation of his throne, majorityism has crowded the name of its chief apostle almost out of the history of its rise." " Freedom of speech, particularly on religious subjects, and on the government's pet project, is a myth; every seventh day the freedom of action is restricted to going to church, dozing away the time in the house, taking a disreputable stroll, or venturing on a not strictly legal ride. We have nothing like the amount of individual freedom which is enjoyed by the men and women of imperially governed France; and notwithstand- ing the muzzling of the press by Louis Napoleon, there could be published within the very shade of the Tuilleries, a truer and more liberal history of Democracy and its leaders, and of American Independence, than any considerable house, except the one from which this emanates, dare put forth, within the vast area over which the star-spangled banner waves. " This is but a tithe of the despotism which public opinion, free to be formed by priests, and directed bv demagogues, has inflicted: but a faint view of how abominably prostituted 9 18 PERIOD SECOND. liberty must inevitably become, if unregulated by scienca If democracy has not exhausted all the good there was in it if majorityism has not become effete, and as obnoxious to progress as monarchy ever was in short, if what is now called liberty, is not slavery, there is not such a thing as slavery on the earth." At the close of the year 1775, when the American Revo- lution had progressed as far as the battles of Lexington and Bunker Hill, John Adams, Benjamin Rush, Benjamin Frank- lin, and George Washington, had met together to read the terrible despatches they had received. Having done which, they pause in gloom and silence. Presently Franklin speaks : " What," he asks, " is to be the end of all this ? Is it to obtain justice of Great Britain, to change the ministry, to soften a tax? Or is it for" He paused; the word independence yet choked the bravest throat that sought to utter it. At this critical moment, Paine enters. Franklin introduces him, and he takes his seat. He well knows the cause of the prevailing gloom, and breaks the deep silence thus: "These States of America must be independent of England. That is the only solution of this question !" They all rise to their feet at this political blasphemy. But, nothing daunted, he goes on ; his eye lights up with patriotic fire as he paints the glorious destiny which America, considering her vast resources, ought to achieve, and adjures them to lend their influence to rescue the Western Continent from the absurd, unnatural, and unpro- gressive predicament of being governed by a small island, three thousand miles off. Washington leaped forward, and taking both his hands, besought him to publish these views in a book. Paine went to his room, seized his pen, lost sight of every other object, toiled incessantly, and in December, 1775, the work entitled "Common Sense," which caused the Declaration of Independence, and brought both people and their leaders face to face with the work they had to accomplish, was sent forth on its mission. "That book," says Dr. Rush, "burst forth from the press with an eff ;ct that has been rarely produced by types and paper, in any age or country." " Have you seen the pamphlet, ' Common Sense?' " asked Major General Lee, in a letter to Washington ; " I never saw such a masterly, irresistible performance. It will, if I mis- take not, in concurrence with the trancendent folly and wicked- oesa of the ministry, give the coup-de-grace to Great Britain. PERIOD SECOND. 19 In short, I own myself convinced by the arguments, of the necessity of separation." That idea of Independence the pen of Paine fed with fuel from his brain when it was growing dim. We cannot overrate the electric power of that pen. At one time Washington thought that his troops, disheartened, almost naked, and half starved, would entirely disband. But the Author-Hero of the Revolution was tracking their march and writing by the light of camp-fires the series of essays called "The Crisis." And when the veterans who still clung to the glorious cause they had espoused were called together, these words broke forth upon them: "These are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like Hell, is not easily conquered ; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph." "These are the times that try men's souls," was the watchword at the battle of Trenton, and Washington himself set the pen of Paine above any sword wielded that day. But we need not dwell on the fact of Paine's services and influence at this event- ful period. He stood the acknowledged leader of American statemanship, and the soul of the American Revolution, by the proclamation of the Legislatures of all the States, and that of the Congress of the United States; the tribute of his greatest enemy was in these words : " The cannon of Washington was not more formidable to the British than the pen of the author of 'Common Sense.' " A little less modesty, a little more pre- ference of himself, to humanity, and a good deal more of what ought to be common sense on the part of the people he sought to free, and he would have been President of the United States ; and America, instead of France, would have had the merit of bestowing the highest honor on the most deserving of mankind. If Paine had been consulted to the extent he ought to have been, by those who modeled the republic he was so instru- mental in starting into existence, our social structure would have been so founded, that it might have lasted till superseded by the immeasurably better one to which I shall presently allude, and to which, as I shall show, his measures aimed. It would not now depend upon a base so uncertain that it has to be carefully shored up. by such props as gibbets, prisons, alms- 20 PERIOD SECOND. houses, and soup-dispensing committees, in order to prevent its being sapped by the hunger-driven slaves of "free labor," nor would our Union be already in such danger of falling to pieces, that the cords which bind it together are as flimsy as cotton, and as rotten as are the souls of those who expose both their religious and their political opinions for sale as eagerly as they do their most damaged goods. On the 17th of April, 1777, Congress elected Mr. Paine secretary to the committee of foreign affairs. In this capacity, he stood in the same relation to the committee that the English secretary for foreign afiairs did to the Cabinet, and it was not from vanity, but in order to preserve the dignity of the new government under which he acted, that he claimed the title which was bestowed on the British minister, who performed a function corresponding to his own, "The Crisis" is contained in sixteen numbers; to notice which, separately, would involve a history of the American Revolution itself. In fact, they comprise a truer history of that event than does any professed history of it yet written. They comprise the soul of it, of which every professed history is destitute. A disgrace which this country can never wipe out. In January, 1779, Paine resigned his secretaryship, in con- sequence of a misunderstanding which had taken place between him and Congress, on account of one Silas Deane. In the early part of the war, it appears that Deane had been employed as an agent in France, for the purpose of obtaining supplies, either as a loan from the French government, or, if he failed in this, to purchase them. But before entering on the duties of his office, Dr. Franklin and Mr. Lee were added to the mission, and the three proceeded to Paris for the same purpose. The French monarch, more perhaps from his hostility to the English government, than from any attachment to the American cause, acceded to the request; and the supplies were immediately furnished. As France was then upon amicable terms with England, a pledge was given by the American com- missioners that the affair should remain a secret. The supplies were accordingly shipped in the name of a Mr. Beaumarchais, and consigned to an imaginary house in the United States. Deane, taking advantage of the secresy which had been promised, presented a claim for compensation in behalf of himself and Beaumarchais; thinking that the auditing committee would prefer compliance to an exposure of their ally, the king of PERIOD SECOND. 21 * France, to a rupture with England. Mr. Paine, perceiving the trick, and knowing the circumstances of the case, resolved on laying the transaction before the public. He accordingly wrote for the newspapers several essays, under the title of " Common Sense to the Public on Mr. Deane's Affairs," in which he exposed the dishonest designs of Deane. The business, in consequence, soon became a subject of general conversation : the demand was rejected by the auditing committee, and Deane soon afterwards absconded to England. For this piece of service to the Americans, Paine was thanked and applauded by the people; but by this time a party had begun to form itself, whose principles, if not the reverse of indepen- dence, were the reverse of republicanism. These men had long envied the popularity of Paine, but from their want of means to check or control it, they had hitherto remained silent. An opportunity was now offered for venting their spleen. Mr. Paine, in exposing the trickery of Deane, had incautiously mentioned one or two circumstances that had come to his know- ledge in consequence of his office; this was magnified into a breach of confidence, and a plan was immediately formed for depriving him of his situation ; accordingly, a motion was made for an order to bring him before congress. Mr. Paine readily attended ; and on being asked whether the articles in question were written by him, he replied that they were. He was then directed to withdraw. As soon as he had left the house, a member arose and moved: "That Thomas Paine be discharged from the office of secretary to the committee on foreign affairs;" but the motion was lost upon a division. Mr. Paine then wrote to congress, requesting that he might be heard in his own defence, and Mr. Lawrence made a motion for that purpose, which was negatived. The next day he sent in his resignation, concluding with these words : " As I cannot, consistently with my character as a freeman, submit to be censured unheard; therefore, to preserve that character and maintain that right, I think it my duty to resign the office of secretary to the committee for foreign affairs; and I do hereby resign the same." . This conduct on the part of the congress may, in some degree, be attributed to a desire to quiet the fears of the French am- bassador, who had become very dissatisfied in consequence of its being known to the world that the supplies were a present from his master. To silence his apprehension, and preserve the friendship of the French court, they treated Paine with ingra- 22 PERIOD SECOND. titude. This they acknowledged at a future period by a grant; of which I shall have occasion to speak in its proper place. Paine was now deprived of the means of obtaining a liveli- hood ; and being averse to rendering his literary labors subser- vient to his personal wants, he engaged himself as clerk to Mr. Biddle, an attorney at Philadelphia. The ingratitude of congress produced no change in Mr. Paine's patriotism. On every occasion, he continued to display the- same degree of independence and resolution, which had first animated him in favor of the republican cause. He had enlisted himself as a volunteer in the American cause ; and he vindicated her rights under every change of circumstance, with unabated ardor. In a communication made many years afterwards to Cheet- ham (who would have contradicted it, could he have done so without stating what everyone would immediately know to be false), he says : "I served in the army the whole of the 'time that tried men's souls,' from the beginning to the end." Soon after the declaration of independence, July 4, 1776, congress recommended that a body of ten thousand men, to be called the flying camp, because it was to act wherever necessary, should be formed from the militia and volunteers of Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland. I went with one division from Pennsylvania, under General Roberdeau. We were stationed at Perth Amboy, and afterwards at Bergen; and when the time of the flying camp expired, and they went home, Iwent to Fort Lee, and served as aide-de-camp to Greene, who commanded at Fort Lee, and was with him through the whole of the black times of that trying campaign. I began the first number of the " Crisis," beginning with the well-known expression, 'These are the times that try men's souls,' at Newark, upon the retreat from Fort Lee, and continued writing it at every place we stopped at, and had it printed at Philadelphia, the 19th of December, six days before the taking the Hessians at Trenton, which, with the affair at Princeton, the week after, put an end to the black times." Soon after the resignation of his secretaryship, he was chosen clerk of the legislature of Pennsylvania. This appoint- ment is a proof that, though he had some enemies, he hail many friends ; and that the malicious insinuations of the former had not been able to weaken the attachment of the latter. PERIOD SECOND. 23 In February, 1781, Paine, at the earnest solicitation of Colonel Laurens, accompanied him to France, on a mission which the former had himself set on foot, which was, to ob- tain of the French Government a loan of a million sterling annually during the war. This mission was so much more successful than they expected, that six millions of livres as a present, and ten millions as a loan was the result. They sailed from Brest, at the beginning of June, and arrived at Boston in August, having under their charge two millions and a half in silver, and a ship and a brig laden with clothing and military stores. Before going to France, as just narrated, Paine headed a private subscription list, with the sum of five hundred dollars, all the money he could raise; and the nobleness of his conduct so stimulated the munificence of others, that the subscriptions amounted to the generous sum of three hundred thousand pounds. Soon after the war of Independence had been brought to a successful termination, Mr. Paine returned to Bordentown, in New Jersey, where he had a small property. Washington, rationally fearing that one so devoted and generous might be in circumstances not the most flourishing, wrote to him the following letter : ROOKY HILL, September 10th, 178S. I have learned, since I have been at this place, that you are at Bordentown. Whether for the sake of retirement or econ- omy, I know not. Be it for either, for both, or whatever it may, if you will come to this place and partake with me, I shall be exceedingly happy to see you at it. Your presence may remind congress of your past services to this country; and if it is in my power to impress them, command my best exertions with freedom, as they will be rendered cheerfully by one who entertains a lively sense of the importance ef your works, and who, with much pleasure, subscribes himself Your sincere friend, Cr. WASHINGTON. In 1785, congress, on the report of a committee consisting of Mr. Gerry, Mr. Petit, and Mr. King, Resolved, That the board of treasury take order for paying to Mr. Thomas Paine the sum of three thousand dollars. 24 PERIOD SECOND. This, however, was not a gratuity, although it took that shape. It was but little if any more than was due Mr. Paine, in consequence of the depreciation of the continental money in which his salary as secretary of the committee of foreign affairs had been paid. Mr. Paine had resolved not to make any application to the congress on the score of his literary labors; but he had several friends in the provincial assemblies who were determined that his exertions should not pass unrewarded. Through their influence, motions in his favor were brought before the legis- lature of Pennsylvania and the assembly of New York; the former gave him 500, and the latter the confiscated estate of a Mr. Frederick Devoe, a royalist. This estate, situated at New Rochelle, consisting of more than three hundred acres of land in a high state of cultivation, with a spacious and elegant stone house, beside extensive out-buildings, was a valuable acquisition; and the readiness with which it was granted, is a proof of the high estimation in which Mr. Paine's services were held by one of the most opulent and powerful states in the Union. In 1786, he published at Philadelphia, his " Dissertations on Government," "The Affairs of the Bank," and "Paper- Money." The bank alluded to was the one which had been established some years before, under the name of the " Bank of North America," on the capital of the three hundred thou- sand pounds, which resulted from the subscription which Paine headed with five hundred dollars, as has already been stated ; which bank, instead of being what banks now are, the stimulants of a gambling credit system, and a runious im- porting system, had been of vast use to the cause of our national independence. Paine advocated a paper currency when it was of use, instead of being an abuse ; in his days it helped to secure national independence, instead of subjecting the country, as it now does, to a servitude to the interests of England, which could she have foreseen, it is questionable whether even British pride would not have so succumbed to British avarice, that not a gun would have been fired, or a sword drawn against us. England could have afforded to pay us as many pounds for subjecting ourselves as we have done to her interests, as it cost her pennies to vainly attempt to pre- vent us from doing this. It is highly worthy of remark, that PERIOD SECOND, 25 Paine opposed giving even the independence promoting Bank of North America, a perpetual charter. At this time Mr. Paine was highly popular, and enjoyed the esteem and friendship of the most literary, scientific, and patriotic men of the age. PERIOD THIfiD. PERIOD THIRD. 17871809. MB. PAIHI GOES TO EUBOPB. His REVOLUTIONARY MOVEMENTS m ENG- LAND. IS ELECTED A MEMBER OF THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY OF FBANCE. TAKES AN ACTIVE PART IN THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. His DEATH. THE success which had crowned Mr. Paine's exertions in America, made him resolve to try the effects of his influence in the very citadel of the foes of liberal principles in government, whose out-posts he had stormed. As America no longer needed his aid, he resolved to attack the English government at home; to free England herself. Accordingly, in April, 1787, he sailed from the United States for France, and arrived in Paris after a short passage. His knowledge of mechanics and natural philosophy had pro- cured him the honor of being admitted a member of the Ameri- can Philosophical Society ; he was also admitted Master of Arts by the University of Philadelphia. These honors, though not of much consequence in themselves, were the means of introducing him to some of the most scientific men in France, and soon after his arrival he exhibited to the Adademy of Sciences, the model of an iron bridge which had occupied much of his leisure time during his residence in America. This model received the un- qualified approbation of the Academy, and it was afterwards adopted by the most scientific men of England. From Paris Mr Paine proceeded to London, where he arrived on the third of September. Before the end of that month he went to Thetford to see his mother, who was now borne down by age, and was, besides, in very straightened circcmstances. His father, it appears, had died during his absence; and he hastened to the place of his birth to relieve the wants of his surviving parent He led a recluse sort of life at Thetford for several weeks, being principally occupied in writing a pamph- PERIOD THIRD. 27 let on the state of the nation, under the title of " Prospects on the Rubicon." This was published in London, toward the end of the year 1787. During the year 1788, Mr. Paine was principolly occupied in building his bridge. For this purpose he went to Rotherhani in Yorkshire, in order that he might have an opportunity of superintending its iron castings. The situation of France had now become of great interest to all Europe, and Mr. Paine was in the confidence of the chief actors in the great events which were there taking place, and he hastened again to Paris to witness and assist in the downfall of Bourbon despotism, to act his part in the great drama of free- dom, the scene of which had shifted from the land of Washing- ton to the country of Lafayette. The French are peculiarly sensitive to the shafts of ridicule ; and Voltarie,* taking a wise advantage of this, had made such good use of his exquisite wit, that both priestcraft and statecraft had become rather absurd than respectable in the estimation of the higher orders of those who held both their wealth and their positions under such patronage. The writings of the Abbe Raynal had imbued the French with respect for the natural rights of humanity, and conse- quently with contempt and abhorrence for the vested rights of tyrants ; and the writings of that great apostle of liberty, Rous- seau, had long been preparing the way, in France, for what those of Paine had effected in America; in fact, Rousseau was the "author hero" of the French Revolution; and it was more owing to his pen, than to anything else, that the views of the people of France so differed from those of their rulers, that, whilst the latter, in assisting America to throw off the British yoke, looked no further than the weakening and humiliating of England, the former approved of, and sustained the measure, as initiatory to the destruction of monarchy itself. The return from America of the troops of Lafayette had furnished a vast reinforcement to the popular cause, and in fused its principles throughout all France. Mr. Paine remarks, that " As it was impossible to separate the military events which took place in America from the principles of the American * That Encyclopedia of wit and wisdom, Voltaire's " Philosophical Dic- tionary," is published by Mr. J. P. Mendum, at the office of the " Boston Investigator. " 28 PERIOD THIRD. revolution, the publication of those events in France necessarily connected themselves with the principles that produced them. Many of the facts were in themselves principles ; such as the Declaration of American Independence, and the treaty of alliance between France and America, which recognized the natural rights of man, and justified resistence to oppression." This is the proper place to show that neither Paine, Rousseau, nor Voltaire are at all chargeable with the abominations which have been perpetrated, both in America and France, in the name of liberty ; and that our 'scurvy politicians' have no more business to spout their impudent clap-trap in the name of the principles advocated by the author of " The Rights of Man," than Marat, St. Just, and Robespierre, had to mouth Rousseau. Nothing is plainer, than that the two great moving minds in the Ameri- can and French revolutions aimed at the practical actualization ofliberty. Had Rousseau awoke from the dead at the time of the French Revolution, "What!" he would have exclaimed. " Do you take carnage to be what I meant by the state of nature?" "Miscreants!" Paine would thunder in the ears of our rulers, were he now to visit the land over which the star- spangled banner waves. " Is elective franchise to end in majority -despotism and spoils? Do you think I mean caucus trickery, election frauds, office gambling, corruption, in short demagogism, when I s&idfree government? "Are my teachings to be estimated from the stand-point where 'tis difficult, if not impossible to determine whether ' free laborers ' or ' slaves ' have the most uncomfortable time of it? In the name of ' Common Sense,' I protest against your gross misrepresentation of me. The contemptible knave and fool game which you are playing in the name of liberty, is but the back step of the forward one towards freedom, which I helped mankind to take. Call you your miserable hotch-potch of spent super-naturalism and worn out absolution, what I meant by freedom? You might as well call a, rotting heap of building materials, which some architect, whose skill was far in advance of his time, had not lived long enough to put together according to his design, the edifice which he intended. "Ye infidels,* who meanly and hypocritically sneak for * I wish it to b particularly observed, that I give the term "infiilels," a much more extended sense than that which it is popularly supposed to convey. PERIOD THIilD. 29 patronage under the shreds and tatters of the worn out cloak of the church, or who quit the ranks of superstition, only to waste your energies over an old book which I completely emasculated (but lived to discover that I had mistaken a prominent sympton for the disease I sought to cure) ; or to dispute and wrangle over mere speculative abstractions, or at most, to eat and drink and dance, and talk in memory of me, every twenty-ninth of January, when it does not fall on a Sunday. In calling on my name, and looking backward in unavailing admiration of what I did, instead of pushing ahead and carrying on the work which I began, you confer no more honor on me than modern Christians do on their " Jesus." You are no more like me, than papists and protestants are the true followers of the Pharisee-condemning, Sabbath-breaking son of the world- famous carpenter of Galillee. " My religion was ' to do good* Yours has thus far been to do nothing or worse than nothing. " Why do you not organize, and have your own schools, in- stead of allowing your children to be supernaturalistically educated! You allow the reasoning faculties of the scions of humanity to be completely maimed, and then blame nature because they are ' vicious ;' or, like idiots holding candles for the blind to read by, you ply them with reason, when they arrive at the age when they ought to be reasonable, but are con- firmed in folly instead. Has the freedom of the people to chose their own teachers and head their own churches, culminated in schools, the very hot-beds of superstition, and in churches more intimately connected with, and more expensive to the state, sub rosa, than the Catholic church openly is, even in Rome ? " Why do you not elevate woman, instead of letting your daughters grow up under the influence of the priests? Why do you so stubbornly cling to that immaculate abortion ; that most pestiferous effluvia of supernaturalism ; that quintessence of malice ; that thickest fog that ever darkened the understanding ; that strong-hold of all that is arbitrary; that refinement of cruelty ; that last relic of absolutistic absurdity, moralism ? and why is its correlative, opinionism still the basis of your political system 1 Why are you, like your opponents, still appealing to that most fallible of all guides, conscience? And in the name of all that is intelligible, what good is there in that chronic suicide which you outdo even supernaturalists in lauding as virtuel Besides, has ' virtue,' notwithstanding all the pains 30 PERIOD THIRD. taken with it, and all the hot-house fostering that that plant has received, grown a hair's breadth since the remotest agesl "Why has not how to, long since superseded ouylit to'l " Abandon, I beseech you, that inflicter of martyrdom ; that watchword of Robespierre, and of the most relentless tyrants that ever tortured humanity, principle. Let the science and art of goodness take its place. "The severest and most persistent scourges of the human race are, and ever have been, men and women of principle. They cannot be even bribed to do right. Robespierre was par excellence, ' the incorruptible ;' and so was Marat. " Principle is the very bed of Procrustes. Principle is the disguise in which the 'angel of darkness' appears so like an 'angel of light,' as to deceive, thus far, all but 'the very elect.' It partially deceived even me. But I had not your means of detecting the cheat. In my day it had not been, as it recently has been, demonstrated that man's will, aided by the force of all that is intelligible fully developed and harmoniously and most advantageously combined, is the measure of his power, and of nature's resources ; that well doing, to any extent worth naming, requires nothing more, and nothing less, than such force, such development, and such combination; that to pro- gress, there is no obstruction, even to the unfriendliness of climate, which is not, through human heart, working with, in, and through nature, removeable. "In my time, it had not been shown (as it recently has been, to a mathematical demonstration) that the only possible way to make people good, is to create the requisite materialistic conditions; and that therefore the most stupid of blunders the most infernal of cruelties is punishment. " You affect to love science. Make it loveable. Raise it to the dignity of the highest law, or religion; make it the basis of government; and thus avail yourselves of its whole use, instead of the little benefit you derive from its ' beggarly elements.' "Patiently discover, instead of recklessly and vainly 'enact- ing laws; scientifically develop, and artistically combine the whole force of physical nature, and the whole power of man. Assist nature, whose head you are, to create, till supply is adequate to demand; till creation is complete; till harmony is in exact proportion to present antagonism; till no obstacle stands between man and perfect goodness, perfect freedom, and perfect and sufficiently lasting happiness. Thus, alone, can PERIOD THIRD. 31 you eliminate that synonym for ignorance mystery, and ita resulting 'vice,' 'virtue,' moralism, absolutism, demagogism, slavery, and misery. " If you love, and would truly honor me, ast forward, accord- ing to the spirit, and not backward, according to the letter, of what I taught. Let onward to perfection be your motto. " Your numbers are sufficient, as you would see if you would but stand out; you are far from poor, on the average, and you include nearly all the learned and scientific; but you are some- how or other so averse to organizing and becoming an efficient body, with a head, that like the mutually suspicious eighty- seven millions of Indians, to whom a few well regulated British troops dictate terms, you suffer your even half organized foes to trample your rights under foot, when if you would organize on an intelligible, TRULY selfish scientific and artistic basis, your own rights, and those of all your fellow-men would be secured. Down with that barricade of hypocrisy, principle. Liberty, goodness, in short, happiness, can be nothing less than the crowning art, " Instead of admitting, as you do, that natnre ought to have a supernatural guardian or helper (inasmuch as you admit that she is incompetent to supply more than a tithe of the satisfac- tion which her wants, as manifested through her highest organism, man call for), why do you not meet the question, as it alone can be met, by demonstrating that man no more really wants or needs absolutely eternal self-consciousness, than the infant really wants or needs the moon for a bauble, when he stretches forth his hand to grasp it, and weeps at his failure. But that what man really does want, nature, through science, art, development, can give 1 Can't you see that what man in reality means by perfect and 'eternal' happiness, is, perfect and sufficiently-lasting happiness? and that nature must furnish this, or prove a failure which would amount to a greater absurdity than ' supernaturalism'' itself? Do you not see that for man to even desire any thing really beyond nature, is to prove 'supernaturalism.' Mind, I have said desire; for man cannot conceive of, and therefore cannot desire the annihila- tion of duration and space. He cannot really wish for happi- ness without its conditions ; if it came merely at his bidding, if he could believe himself into Heaven, or vote himself free, both Heaven and freedom would pall on the appetite as soon as tasted. 32 PERIOD THIRD. " Had I livod at the time when Humboldt scanned nature, when Feuerbach demonstrated the naturalness of 'supernatural- ism,' and showed the all-importance and practical signin'cancy of man's instinctively inaugurating his abstract subjectivity of almighty ; when Comte showed the connection, and proved the unity of all science; when Fourier discovered the equitable relations which should exist between labor, capital, and skill, and which, sooner or later, must displace the present unnatural and ruinous ones; had I lived when it had been demonstrated that nature is all sufficient; that science, art, development, well prove adequate to all the requirements of miracle; that the highest aspirations of nature's highest organism, man, indicate the perfection to which nature is spontaneously tend- ing, and which she must attain to; that the business of man is to discover how to fully gratify all the passions which nature has implanted in him (instead of trying to contrive how to mortify, repress, and overcome nearly all, and by far the best of them); how to live, till he has rung, so to speak, all the changes possible on his five senses, till the repetition becomes irksome; had I enjoyed the advantages derivable from all this, your steam engines, steam printing presses, sewing machines, and all other machines, and your electric telegraph, even, should have had its match in social science and ait; you should, by this time, have had a religion self evidently true, and a system of law necessarily just; and the whole world should have been far advanced towards becoming a state spontaneously free." Reader, considering how very far ahead of his time, it was tlie distinguishing characteristic of the author of the " Rights of Man" and "The Age of Reason" to be, is it too much to suppose that, were he alive now, he would talk thus, except far more eloquently, beyond all question ? Would not he who made but two steps from the government of priests, kings and lords, to the people's right to be their own church and their own government, have found out, before now, the means of escaping from demagogism t As one who is not prepared to admit that liberty is an empty name, that happiness at all answering to that which man desires, is an impractibility, I respectfully submit that he would. And 1 scorn the suppo- sition that he would degrade himself, and the cause he espoused, so far as to make the pitiable and lying excuse which the betrayers of mankind offer in behalf of "free institutions," PERIOD THIRD. S3 that they are no worse than those, to escape from which, both earth and ocean have been reddened with human blood, and strewn with the ashes and the wrecks of human industry. Our "free institutions" have come to be so much worse than those confessedly despotic, that it is only the superior natwral advantage, which our country enjoys, that has thus far pre- served even their name. The proper or natural functions of popularism are but tran- sitional. The instant it is undertaken to erect democracy into a permanency, it dwindles to a most pitiable imitation to a blundering re-enacting, under false names, of the worn out measures of the religion and politics, from which it is legiti- mately but a protest and a departure. It thus becomes so exceedingly corrupt and morbitic, that the social organism, to protect itself from utter dissolution, is forced to reject it, and return again under its old regime. And nothing short of the religion and government of science can furnish an outlet from this vicious circle. Mr. Paine again, left France for England, in Nov. 1790, hav- ing witnessed the destruction of the Bastile, and been an atten- tive observer, if not an active adviser, of the revolutionary proceedings which had taken place during the preceding twelve months. On the 13th of March, 1791, Mr. Jordan, No. 166 Fleet street, published for him the first part of " The Eights of Man." This work was intended to arouse the people of England to a sense of the defects and abuses of their vaunted system of govern- ment; besides which, it was a masterly refutation of the false- hoods and exaggerations of Edmund Burke's celebrated " Re- flections on the Revolution in France." About the middle of May, Mr. Paine again went to France. This was just before the king attempted to escape from his own dominions. On the occasion of the return of the fugitive mon- arch, Mr. Paine was, from an accidental circumstance, in con- siderable danger of losing his life. An immense concourse of .people had assembled to witness the event. Among the crowd was Mr. Paine. An officer proclaimed the order of the national assembly, that all should be silent and covered, In an instant all except Mr. Paine, put on their hats. He had lost his cock- ade, the emblem of liberty and equality. The multitude ob- serving that he remained uncovered, supposed that he was one of their enemies, and a cry instantly arose, "Aristocrat/ Aristocrat! 34 PERIOD THIRD. ct la lanterne ! d, la lanterne /" He was instructed by those who stood near him to put on' his hat, but it was some time before the matter could be satisfactorily explained to the multitude. On the 13th of July, 1791, he returned to London, but it was not thought prudent that he should attend the public cele- bration of the French revolution, which was to take place on the following day. He was however, present at the meeting which was held at the Thatched House tavern, on the twentieth of August following. Of the address and declaration which issued from this meeting, and which was at first attributed to Mr. Horn Tooke, Mr. Paine was the author. Mr. Paine was now engaged in preparing the second part of the " Rights of Man " for the press. In the mean time the ministry had received information that the work would shortly appear, and they resolved to get it suppressed if possible. Having ascertained the name of the printer, they employed him to endeavor to purchase the copyright. He began by offering a hundred guineas, then five hundred, and at length a thousand; but Mr. Paine told him, that he "would never put it in the power of any pi-inter or publisher to suppress or alter a work of his." Finding that Mr. Paine was not to be bribed, the ministry next attempted to suppress the work by means of prosecu- tions; but even in this they succeeded so badly, that the second part of the " Rights of Man " was published on the sixteenth of February, 1792, and at a moderate calculation, more than a hundred thousand copies of the work were cir- culated. In August, 1792, Paine prepared a publication in defense of the " Rights of man," and of his motives in writing it; he entitled it " An Address to the Addressers on the late Procla- mation." " This," says Sherwin, " is one of the severest pieces of satire that ever issued from the press." About the middle of September, 1792, a French deputation announced to Mr. Paine that he had been elected to represent the department of Calais in the National Convention. At Dover, whither he repaired, in order to embark for France, the treatment of the minions of British despotism towards the hated author of the " Rights of Man," was dis- graceful and mean to the last degree. His trunks were all opened, and the contents examined. Some of his papers were eized, and it is probable f ^at the whole would have been but PERIOD THIRD. 85 for the cool and steady conduct of their owner and his attend ants. When the custom-house officers had indulged their petty malice N as long as they thought proper, Mr. Paine and his friends were allowed to embark, and they arrived at Calais in about three hours. The English-French representative, how- ever, very narrowly escaped the vigilance of the despots he had provoked, for it appears that an order to detain him was received at Dover, in about twenty minutes after his em- barkation. A salute from the battery announced to the people of Calais the arrival of the distinguished foreigner, on whom they had . bestowed an honor unprecedented. His reception, both military and civic, was what a mon- arch might well have been proud of. " The garrison at Calais were under arms to receive this friend of liberty ; the tri-colored cockade was presented to him by the mayor, and the handsomest woman in the town was selected to place it on his hat."* This ceremony being over, he walked to Deissein's, in the Rue de VEgalite (formerly Rue de Roi), the men, women, and children, crowding around him, and shouting " Vive Thomas Paine ! " He was then conducted to the town-hall, and there presented to the municipality, who with the greatest affection embraced their representative. The mayor addressed him in a short speech (which was interpreted to him by his friend M. Audibert), to which Mr. Paine, laying his hand on his heart, replied that his life should be devoted to their service. At the inn he was waited upon by the authorities, and by the president of the Constitutional society, who desired that he would attend their meeting that night: he cheerfully com- plied with the request, and the whole town would have been there, had there been room : the hall of the Minimes was so crowded that it was with the greatest difficulty they made way for Mr. Paine to the side of the president. Over the chair in which he sat were placed the bust of Mirabeau, and the colors * The least unfair view of Thomas Paine's character and merits which has hitherto been found in the historical writings of any American author except Randall, Savage, and Vale (who quotes copiously from Sherwin), is taken by an ecclesiastic, Francis L. Hawkes, D.D., LL.D. His "Cy- clopedia of Biography," from which I have quoted above, is published by the Messrs. D. Appleton & Co., who also publish Buckle's "History of Civilization in England," a work which would have fully satisfied the authox of the "Age of Reason " himeelf, had he lived to read it. 36 PERIOD THIRD. of France, England and America united. A speaker from the tribune, formally announced .his election, amid the plaudits of the people; for some minutes after nothing was heard but " Vive la Nation ! Vive Thomas Paine," in voices both male and female. On the following day an extra meeting was appointed to be held in the church in honor of the new deputy to the conven- tion, the Minimes having been found quite suffocating from the vast concourse of people which had assembled on the pre- vious occasion. At the theatre, on the evening after his arri- val, a box was specially reserved for the author of the "Rights of Man," the object of the English proclamation. Such was the enthusiasm of the people for the "author- hero" of the American Revolution, that Mr. Paine was also elected deputy for Abbeville, Beauvais, and Versailles ; but the people of Calais having been beforehand in their choice, he preferred being their representative. After remaining with his constituents a short time, he pro- ceeded to Paris, in order to take his seat as a member of the National Assembly. On the road thither he met with similar honors to those which he had received at Calais. As soon as he arrived at Paris, he addressed a letter to his fellow-citizens, the people of France, thanking them for both adopting and electing him as their deputy to the convention. Mr. Paine was shortly after his arrival in Paris, appointed a member of the committee for framing the new constitution. While he was performing the important duties of his station, the ministry of England were using every effort to counteract the (to them) dangerous principles which he had disseminated. For this purpose they tiled informations against the different individuals who had sold the "Rights of Man," and also a-^ainst the author. The trial of Mr. Paine came on at Guild- hall, on the 18th of December, before that most cruel and vindictive of creatures that ever disgraced the bench of even a British court of justice, Lord Kenyon. As the judge was pensioned, and the jury packed, a verdict of guilty followed as a matter of course. Mr. Erskine's plea for the defence was, as Mr. Paine observed, on reading a report of the farce which had been enacted under the name of a trial, "a good speech for himself, but a very poor defence of the ' Rights of Man.' "* * " K.ine'i work,"[the "Rights of Man,"] says SchJos^er. in hi* " PERIOD THIRD. 37 Seldom has the cowardice which a sense of guilt excites, reached such a panic as that into which the government of England was thrown by Thomas Paine. In France he was safe from their malice, but no less than ten individuals were prosecuted for selling his works, and by corrupted judges and packed juries, nine of the number were convicted, and severely fined or imprisoned, or both. " On the first appearance of the ' Rights of Man,' " says Sherwin, " the ministry saw that it inculcated truths which they could not controvert; that it contained plans, which, if adopted, would benefit at least nine-tenths of the community, and that its principles were the reverse of the existing system of gov- ernment; they therefore judged that the most politic method would be to treat the work with contempt, to represent it as a foolish and insignificant performance, unworthy of their notice, and iindeserving the attention of the public. But they soon found the inefficiency of this mode of treatment; the more contempt they showed, the more the book was read, and approved of. Finding, therefore, that their declarations of contempt were as unsuccessful as their project of buying up the work, they determined upon prosecuting the author and publisher. Mr. Paine was not at all surprised at this resolution of the ministry; indeed, he had anticipated it on the publication of the second part of the work, and to remove any doubt as to his intention of defending the principles which he had so effectually inculcated, he addressed the following letter to his publisher : February 16th, 1792. SIR, Should any person, under the sanction of any kind of authority, inquire of you respecting the author and publisher of the " Rights of Man," you will please to mention me as the author and publisher of that work, and show to such person this letter. I will, as soon as I am made acquainted with it, appear and answer for the work personally. Your humble servant, THOMAS PAINS. MB. JORDAN, No. 166 Fleet Street. " The first intimation which Mr. Paine received," continue* of the Eighteenth Century," "made as great and as lasting an impressio* on certain classes in England as iiurke's did upon the great majority of th* higher and middle ranks." 38 PERIOD THIRD. Slierwin, "of the intentions of the ministry, was on the 14th of May, 1792. He was then at Bromly, in Kent, upon which he came immediately to town; on his arrival he found that M . Jordan had that evening been served with a summons to appear at the court of King's Bench on the Monday following, but for what purpose was not stated. Conceiving it to be on account of the work, he appointed a meeting with Mr. Jordan, on the next morning, when he provided a solicitor, and took the ex- pense of the defense on himself. But Mr. Jordan, it appears, had too much regard for his person to hazard its safety on the event of a prosecution, and he compromised the affair with a solicitor of the treasury, by agreeing to appear in court and plead guilty. This arrangement answered the purpose of both parties That of Jordan in liberating himself from the risk of a prosecution, and that of the ministry, since his plea of guilty amounted in some measure to a condemnation of the work." The following letter from Mr. Paine to the Attorney-General, Sir Archibald Macdonald, shows, that but for the circumstance of his being called to France, as just related, it was his intention to have formally defended himself in the prosecution against him as author of the *' Rights of Man." SIR : Though I have some reason for believing that you were not the original promoter or encoui-ager of the prosecution com- menced against the work entitled " Rights of Man," either as that prosecution is intended to affect the author, the publisher, or the public; yet .as you appear the official person therein, I address this letter to you, not as Sir Archibald Macdonald, but as Attorney-General. You began by a prosecution against the publisher, Jordan, and the reason assigned by Mr. Secretary Dundas, in the House of Commons, in the debate on the proclamation, May 25, for taking that measure, was, he said, because Mr. Paine could not be found, or words to that effect. Mr. Paine, sir, so far from secreting himself, never went a step out of his way, nor in the least instance varied from his usual conduct, to avoid any measure you might choose to adopt with respect to him. It is on the purity of his heart, and the universal utility of the principles and plans which his writings contain, that he rests the issue ; and he will not dishonor it by any kind of subter- fuge. The apartments which he occupied at the time of writing the work last winter, he has continued to occupy to the present PERIOD THIRD. 39 liour, and the solicitors of the prosecution know where to find him; of which there is a proof in their own office as far back as the 21st of May, and also in the office of my own attorney. But admitting for the sake of the case, that the reason for proceeding against the publisher was, as Mr. Dundas stated, that Mr. Paine could not be found, that reason can now exist no longer. The instant that I was informed that an information was pre- paring to be filed against me, as the author of, I believe, one of the most useful books ever offered to mankind, I directed my attorney to put in an appearance; and as I shall meet the prose- cution fully and fairly, and with a good and upright conscience, I have a right to expect that no act of littleness will be made use of on the part of the prosecution towards influencing the future issue with respect to the author. This expression may, perhaps, appear obscure to you, but I am in the possession of some matters which serve to show that the action against the publisher is not intended to be a real action. If, therefore, any persons concerned in the prosecution have found their cause so weak as to make it appear convenient to them to enter into a negotiation with the publisher, whether for the purpose of his submitting to a verdict, and to make use of the verdict so obtained as a circumstance, by way of precedent, on a future trial against myself; or for any other purpose not fully made known to me ; if, I say, I have cause to suspect this to be the case, I shall most certainly withdraw the defence I should otherwise have made, or promoted, on his (the publisher's) behalf, and leave the negotiations to themselves, and shall reserve the whole of the defence for the real trial. But, sir, for the purpose of conducting this matter with at least that appearance of fairness and openness that shall justify itself before the public whose cause it really is (for it is the right of public discussion and investigation that is questioned), I have to propose to you to cease the prosecution against the publisher ; and as the reason or pretext can no longer exist for continuing it against him because Mr. Paine could not be found, that you would direct the whole process against me, with whom the pro- secuting party will not find it possible to enter into any private negotiation. I will do the cause full justice, as well for the sake of the nation, as for my own reputation. Another reason for discontinuing the process against the pub- 40 PERIOD THIRD. lisher is, because it can amount to nothing. First, because a jury in London cannot decide upon the fact of publishing beyond the limits of the jurisdiction of London, and therefore the work may be republished over and over again in every county in the nation, and every case must have a separate pro- cess; and by the time that three or four hundred prosecutions have been had, the eyes of the nation -will then be fully open to see that the work in question contains a plan the best calculated to root out all the abuses of government, and to lessen the taxes of the nation upwards of six millions annually. Secondly, because though the gentlemen of London may be very expert in understanding their particular professions and occupations, and how to make business contracts with govern- ment beneficial to themselves as individuals, the rest of the nation may not be disposed to consider them sufficiently quali- fied nor authorized to determine for the whole nation on plans of reform, and on systems and principles of government. This would be in effect to erect a jury into a national convention, instead of electing a convention, and to lay a precedent for the probable tyranny of juries, under the pretence of supporting their rights. That the possibility always exists of packing juries will not be denied ; and, therefore, in all cases where government is the prosecutor, more especially in those where the right of public discussion and investigation of principles and systems of govern- ment is attempted to be suppressed by a verdict, or in those where the object of the work that is prosecuted is the reform of abuse and the abolition of sinecure places and pensions, in all these cases the verdict of a jury will itself become a subject of discussion ; and therefore, it furnishes an additional reason for discontinuing the prosecution against the publisher, more especially as it is not a secret that there has been a negotiation with him for secret purposes, and for proceeding against me only. I shall make a much stronger defence than what I believe the treasury solicitor's agreement with him will permit him to do. I believe that Mr. Burke, finding himself defeated, and not being able to make any answer to the " Rights of Man," has been one of the promoters of this prosecution; and I shall return the compliment to him by showing, in a f utiire publication, that he has been a masked pensioner at fifteen hundred pounds per annum for about ten years. PERIOD THIRD 41 Thus it is that the public money is wasted, and tho dread of public investigation is produced. I am, sir, Your obedient humble servant, THOMAS PAINB. SIB A. MACDONALD, Attorney-General. On the 25th of July, 1792, the Duke of Brunswick issued his sanguinary manifesto, in which he declared that the allies were resolved to inflict the most dreadful punishments on the national assembly, for their treatment of the royal family; he even went so far as to threaten to give up Paris to military execution. This made the people furious, and drove them to deeds of desperation. A party was consequently formed in the convention for putting the king to death. Mr. Paine labored hard to prevent matters from being carried to this ex- tremity, but though his efforts produced a few converts to his doctrine, the majority of his colleagues were too enraged at the duplicity of the king, and the detestable conduct of the foreign monarchs, with whom he was leagued, to be satisfied with any- thing short of the most dreadful vengeance. The conduct of Louis was too reprehensible to be passed over unnoticed, and Mr. Paine therefore voted that he should be tried ; but when the question whether he should be put to death, was brought forward, he opposed it by every argument in his power. His exertions were, however, ineffectual, and sentence of death was passed, though by a very small majority. Mr. Paine lost no opportunity of protesting against this extreme measure ; when the question, whether the sentence should be carried into exe- cution, was discussed, he combated the proposition with great energy. As he was not well versed in the French language, he wrote or spoke in English, which one of the secretaries translated. It is evident that his reasoning was thought very persuasive, since those who had heard the speeches of Bnzot, Condorcet, and Brissot, on the same side of the question, without interrup- tion, broke out in murmurs, while Paine's opinion was being translated ; and Marat, at length, losing all patience, exclaimed that Paine was a quaker, whose mind was so contracted by the narrow principles of his religion, that he was incapable of the liberality that was requisite for condemning men to death. This shrewd argument not being thought convincing, 42 PERIOD THIRD, the secretary continued to read, that 'the execution of the sentence, instead of an act of justice, would appear to all the world, and particularly to their allies, the American States, as an act of vengeance, and that if he were sufficiently master of the French language, he would, in the name of his brethren of, America, present a petition at their bar against the execution of the sentence.' Marat and his associates said that these could not possibly be the sentiments of Thomas Paine, and that the assembly was imposed upon by a false translation. On com- paring it with the original, however, it was found to be correct. The only practical effect of Paine's leniency to the king was that of rendering himself an object of hatred among the most violent and now dominant actors in the revolution. They found that he could not be induced to participate in their acts of cruelty; they dreaded the opposition which he might make to their sanguinary deeds, and they therefore marked him out as a victim to be sacrificed the first opportunity. The humanity of Mr. Paine was, indeed, one of the most prominent features in his character, and he exercised it, whether on public or private occasions. Of his strict attention to his public duty in this respect, even at the hazard of his own safety, we have just seen a convincing proof in his opposition to the execution of the king; and of his humane and charitable dis- position in private matters, the following circumstances are sufficient to warrant the most unqualified conclusion. Mr. Paine was dining one day with about twenty friends, at a coffee-house in the Palais Egalite, now the Palais Royal, when, unfortunately for the harmony of the company, a captain in the English service contrived to introduce himself. The military gentleman was a strenuous supporter of the English system of government, and of course, a decided enemy of the French Revolution. After the cloth was removed, the conversation turned on the state of affairs in England, and the means which had been adopted by the government to check political know- ledge. Mr. Paine gave his opinion very freely, and much to the satisfaction of every one present, except Captain Grimstone, who finding himself cornered, answered his arguments by call- ing him a traitor to his country, and applying to him other terms equally opprobrious. Mr. Paine treated his abuse with much good humor, which rendered tl e captain so furious that he stnick him a violent blow. But the cowardice of this be- havior on tne part ol a stout young man, toward a person up- PERIOD THIRD. 43 ward of sixty years of age, was not the worst part of the .affair. The captain had struck a citizen-deputy of the conven- tion, which was an insult to the whole nation ; the offender was hurried into custody, and it was with the greatest difficulty that Mr. Paine prevented him from being massacred on- the spot. The convention had decreed the punishment of death to any one who should be convicted of striking a deputy : Mr. Paine was therefore placed in a very unpleasant situation. He im- mediately applied to Barrere, president of the committee of public safety, for a passport for his imprudent adversary. His request being, after much hesitation, complied with, he still had considerable difficulty in procuring his liberation; but even this was not all of which the nobility of his nature was capable. The captain was without friends, and penniless; and Mr. Paine generously supplied him with money to defray his travel- ling expenses, home to England. A Major Munroe, who lodged at the same hotel with Mr. Paine, and whose business it was to inform Pitt and the min- istry of England, of what was going on in France, remaining after the war was declared, was thrown into prison. He applied to Mr. Paine, who, by great exertion, procured his re- lease. The reign of terror had now fairly begun, and Mr. Paine's humane disposition conspicuously marked him for one of its victims. In alluding to the dreadful proceedings which were making such havoc among the best patriots of France, he says: "As for myself, I used to find some relief by walking alone in the garden after it was 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. ' I went but little to the convention, and then only to make my appearance; because I found it impossible for me to join in i heir tremendous decrees, and useless and dangerous to oppose them. My having voted and spoken extensively, more so than any other member, against the execution of the king, had already fixed a mark upon me : neither dared any of my associates in the convention to translate, and speak in French for me anything I might have dared to write. Pen and ink were then of no use to me. No good could be done by writing, and ^printer dared to print; and whatever I might have written tor 44 PERIOD THIRD. 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; and as to softer subjects, my heart was in distress at the fate of my friends, and my harp was hung upon the weeping willows." But the gentle, conciliating, and open manner of Mr. Paine rendered it impossible to impeach his political conduct, and this was the reason why he remained so long at liberty. The first attempt that was made against him, was by means of an act of the convention, which decreed that all persons residing in France, who were born in England, should be imprisoned ; but as Mr. Paine was a member of the convention, and had been adopted a " citizen of France," the decree did not extend to him. A motion was afterward made by Bourdon de 1'Oise, for expelling' all foreigners from the convention. It was evident from the speech of the mover, that Mr. Paine was the principal object aimed at, and as soon as the expulsion was effected, an applica- tion was made to the two committees of public safety, of which Robespierre was the dictator, and he was immediately arrested, under the former decree for imprisoning persons born in Eng- land. On his way to the Luxembourg, he contrived to call upon his intimate friend and associate, Joel Barlow, with whom he left the manuscript of the first part of the "Age of Reason." This work he intended to be the last of his life, but the proceed- ings in France, during the year 1793, induced him to dslay it no longer. At the time when the "Age of Reason" was written, Mr. Paine was in daily expectation of being sent to the guillotine,- where many of his friends had already perished; the doctrines, therefore, which it inculcates, must be regarded as the senti- ments of a dying man. This is a conclusive proof that the work was not the result of a wish to deceive. Mr. Paine had measured his time with such precision, that he had not finished the book more than six hours, before he was arrested and con- veyed to the Luxembourg. Had such a singularly favorable coincidence as this happened; in the transactions of a Christian theological writer, it would undoubtedly have been ascribed to the interpostion of Divine Providence. After Mr. Paine had remained in prison about three weeks,, the Americans residing in Paris went in a body to the conven- tion and demanded the liberation of their fellow-citizen. The PERIOD THIRD. 45 following is a copy of the address presented bv them to the president of the convention ; an address which sufficiently shows the high estimation in which Mr. Paine was at this time held by the citizens of the United States: "Citizens! The French nation had invited the most illustri- ous of all foreign nations to the honor of representing her. " Thomas Paine, the apostle of liberty in America, a profound and valuable philosopher, a virtuous and esteemed citizen, came to France and took a seat among you. Particular circumstances rendered necessary the decree to put under arrest all the English residing in France. "Citizens! Representatives! We oome to demand of you Thomas Paine, in t,he name of the friends of liberty, and in the name of the Americans, your brothers and allies; was there anything more wanted to obtain our demand we would tell you. Do not give to the leagued despots the pleasure of seeing Paine in irons. We inform you that the seals put upon the papers of Thomas Paine have been taken off, that the committee of general safety examined them, and far from finding among them any dangerous propositions, they only found the love of liberty which characterized him all his lifetime, that eloquence of nature and philosophy which made him the friend of mankind, and those principles of public morality which merited the hat- red of kings, and the affection of his fellow citizens. " In short, citizens ! if you permit us to restore Thomas Paine to the embraces of his fellow-citizens, we offer to pledge our- selves as securities for his conduct during the short time he shall remain in France." The Americans who presented the foregoing address, received for answer, that " Mr. Paine was born in England," and it was also hinted to them that their attempt to reclaim him as a citi- zen of the United States, could not be listened to, in conse- quence of its not being authorized by the American government. I wish the reader to particularly note what I have here italicised, as I shall hereafter refer to it in a very important connection. Soon after this, all communication between the prisoners and their friends was cut off by an order of the police ; and the only hope that during six months, remained to Mr. Paine, was, that the American minister would be authorized to inquire into the cause of his imprisonment. " But even this hope," Mr. Paine observes, " in the state in which matters were daxiy arriv- 46 PERIOD THIRD. ing, 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." During this long imprisonment he amused himself by writing a variety of pieces, both, in poetry and prose, some of which have since been published. He also wrote a considerable por- tion of the second part of the " Age of Reason." When he had been in prison about eight months, he was seized with a violent fever, which nearly deprived him of life, and from the effects of which he never perfectly recovered. This fever, which rendered him insensible for more than a month, was, however, the means of pieserving his life; for had he remained in health, he would no doubt have beeu dragged before the tribunal, and sent to the guillotine. After the fall of Robespierre, Mr. Paine, seeing several of his fellow-prisoners set at liberty, began to conceive hopes of his own release, and addressed a memorial to Mr. Monroe, the American minister, on the subject. The following is a copy of Mr. Monroe's letter to Mr. Paine on this occasion: PARIS, September 18, 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 respec- tively written, had I not concluded you would have calculated with certainty upon the deep interest I take in your welfare, and the pleasure with which I shall embrace 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 interest- ing points, and which justice to you and our country equally forbid you should entertain. You mention that you have been informed you are not considered as an American citizen by the Americans, and that you have likewise heard that I had no in- structions 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 I presume the most he could say is, that you had likewise become a French citizen, and which by no means de- prives you of being an American one. Even this, however, PERIOD THIRD. 47 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 America. As such you are entitled to my atten- tion; and so far as it can be given, consistently with those obligations which are mutual between every government and even transient passengers, 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. They have not forgotten the history of their own revolution, 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 I 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 and a distinguished and able advocate in favor of public liberty. To the welfare of Thomas Paine the Americans are riot, nor can they be, indifferent. Of the sense which the president has always entertained of your merits, and of his friendly disposition towards you, you are too well assured to require any declaration of it from me. That I forward 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 danger. To liberate you will be an object of my endeavors, and as soon as possible. But yv Mst., until that event shall W 48 PERIOD THIRD. accomplished, 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 object^to attend to, and with few to consult. It becomes me in pursu!T of those, so to regulate my conduct with respect to each, as to the man- ner 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. Mr. Paine was released from prison on the 4th November, 1794, having been in confinement for eleven months. After his liberation, he was kindly invited to the house of Mr. Monroe, where he remained for about eighteen months. The following extract from one of his letters, written after his return to America, is a highly interesting description of his situation while in prison, and of another narrow escape which he had in addition to the one already noticed. ' I was one of the nine members that composed the first com- mittee of constitution. Six of them have been destroyed. -Syeyes and myself have survived. He by bending with the times, and I by not bending. The other survivor joined Robespierre, and signed with him the warrant of my arresta- tion. After the fall of Robespierre, he was seized and im- prisoned in his turn, and sentenced to transportation. He has since apologized to me for having signed the warrant, by say- ing, he felt himself in danger and was obliged to do it. Herault Sechelles, an acquaintance of Mr. Jefferson, and a good patriot, was my suppliant as member of the committee of constitution; that is, he was to supply my place, if I had not accepted or had resigned, being next in number of votes to me. He was imprisoned in the Luxembourg with me, was taken to the tribunal and the guillotine, and I, his principal, was left. There were but two foreigners in the convention, Anacharsis Cloots* and myself. We were both put out of the convention * J. B. DeCloots, a Prussian Baron, known since the revolution by the niune of Aracharsis Cloots, was born at Cleves, on the 24th of June, 1755, aad became the possessor of a considerable fortune. In September, 1792, he was deputed from the Oise to the Convention. In the same year he published a work entitled " The Universal Republic, wherein lie laid it down as a p inciple "that the people were the sovereign of the world nay, that it was God" "that fools alone believed in a Supreme PERIOD THIRD. 49 by the same vote, arrested by the same order, and carried to prison together the same night. He -was taken to the guillo- tine, and I was again left. Joel Barlow was with us when we went to prison. Joseph Lebon, one of the vilest characters that ever existed, and who made the streets of Arras run with blood, was my suppliant as member of the convention for the department of the Pais de Calais. When I was put out of the convention he came and took my place. When I was liberated from prison, and voted again into the convention, he was sent to the same prison and took my place there, and he went to the guillotine instead of me. He supplied my place all the way through. One hundred and sixty-eight persons were taken out of the Luxembourg in one night, and a hundred and sixty of them guillotined the next day, of which I know I was to have been one; and the manner in which I escaped that fate is curious, and has all the appearance of accident. The room in which I was lodged was on the ground floor, and one of a long range of rooms under a gallery, and the door of it opened outward and flat against the wall ; so that when it was open the inside of the door appeared outward, and the contrary when it was shut. I had three comrades, fellow- prisoners with me, Joseph Vanhuile, of Bruges, since president of the municipality of that town, Michael Robins, and Bastini, of Louvain. When persons by scores and hundreds were to be taken out of prison for the guillotine, it was always done in the night, and those who performed that office had a private mark or signal by which they knew what rooms to go to, and what number to take. We, as I have said, were four, and the door of our room was marked unobserved by us, with that number in chalk ; but it happened, if happening is a proper word, that the mark was put on when the door was open and flat against the wall, and thereby came on the inside when we shut it at Being," &c. He soon afterwards fell under the suspicions of Robespierre, was arrested as a Hebertist, and condemned to death on the 24th of March, 1794. He died with great firmness, and on his way to execution lectured Hebert on materialism, "to prevent him," as he said, "from yielding to re- ligious feelings in his last moments." He even asked to be executed after all his accomplices, in order that he might have time "to establish certain principles during the fall of their heads." Biographe Moderne. See, also, for a fuller account of Baron De Cloota, Thier's "History of the French Revolution." 50 PERIOD THIRD. night, and the destroying angel passsed by it. A few days after this Robespierre fell, and the American ambassador arrived and reclaimed me and invited me to his house. During the whole of my imprisonment, prior to the fall of Robespierre, there was no time when I could think my life worth twenty-four hours, and my mind was made up to meet its fate. The Americans in Paris went in a body to the con- vention to reclaim me, but without success. There was no party among them with respect to me. My only hope then rested on the government of America that it would remember me. But the icy heart of ingratitude, in whatever man it may be placed, has neither feeling nor sense of honor. The letter of Mr. Jefferson has served to wipe away the reproach, and done justice to the mass of the people of America." Soon after Mr. Paine's release, the convention, by a unani- mous vote, reinstated him in the seat he had formerly occupied. Mr. Paine did not refuse, being resolved to show that he was not to be terrified, and that his principles were neither to be perverted by disgust nor weakened by misfortune. His bodily health was very much impaired by his long con- finement, and in September following he was taken dangerously ilL He states that he had felt the approach of his disorder for some time, which occasioned him to hasten to a conclusion of the second part of the "Age of Reason." This work was pub- lished at Paris, early in 1795, and was very shortly afterward reprinted both in England and the United States. The "Age of Reason" called forth a great many replies, but the only one whose fame has outlived its author, is the Bishop of Llandaff' s "Apology for the Bible." Even this is in defiance of the plainest rules of reason and logic, and would have shared the fate of its companions in the same cause, if it had been written by an ordinary person. The advocates of the Christian faith were themselves so con- scious of the imperfections of their system, and placed so little reliance on the Bishop's arguments, that they commenced a prosecution against Mr. Williams, the publisher of the "Age of Reason." They retained Mr. Erskine on the part of the crown, who made every effort to procure a verdict. Mr. Kyd made an ingenious and able reply, in behalf of the defendant, but the jury, being special, readily found him guilty, June 4, 1797. Mr. Paine addressed a letter to Mr. Erskine on the proceedings of this trial, in which he ridiculed the absurdity of PERIOD THJED. 51 discussing theological subjects before such men as special juries are generally composed of, and cited fresh evidence in support of his former arguments against the truth of the Bible. But, although the anti-biblical works of Mr. Paine were well able to withstand the Bishop of LlandafPs attacks, and have unquestionably made a greater number of mere unbelievers than have those of any other writer, they strongly remind those who comprehend the all-important materialistic significancy which underlies " supernaturalism," of the suggestions which their author so sensibly threw out, in his letter to Mr. Erskine, with respect to the abilities of juries to deal with theological matters. Paine himself took far less pride in his Theological writings than in any of his others. This is too observable to need to be pointed out in detail. He had comparatively such small ex- pectations with respect to the good which he believed he had the talents to perform by meddling with " supernaturalism," that he postponed the execution of that part of his life's mis- sion to the latter end of his career; and it is worthy of note, that in his will, he requested that it should be engraved on his tomb-stome, not that he was the author of the "The Age of Reason," or of the "Examination of the Prophecies;" but of "Common Sense." In the perfected, or even half regenerate future, the author of " the world is my country ; to do good my religion," though he had never written " Common Sense," " The Crisis," or " Rights of Man;" nay, though he had never written another line, will stand higher than will the ablest mere exposer and denouncer of error and delusion, that ever handled a pen. There is, it must be confessed, in Mr. Paine's treatment of the great question involved in anthropomorphism, or "the- ology," nothing of the profundity of Feuerbach, or of the thoroughness, and searching and learned inquiry concerning the mythical substructure of Christianity, which so eminently dis- tinguishes Strauss; and there is but little of the careful research of Volney, Dupuis and Robert Taylor, in either the " Age of Reason" or the "Examination of The Prophecies." Their author is altogether too deficient in the bland and winning per- suasiveness of Greg, and has not an overstock of the candor, and patient criticism of Macnaught. For proof of this, compare Paine's theological masterpieces, just named, with Strauss's " Critical Examination of the Life 52 PERIOD THIRD. of Jesus," Volney's " Ruins of Empires," and " New Re- searches on Ancient History," Dupuis's "Origine de tous les Cultes,"* Taylor's " Diegesis," "Astronomical-Theological Ser- mons," and " Devil's Pulpit," Greg's "Creed of Christendom; Its Foundations and superstructure," Macnauht on " The Doctrine of Inspiration," and that natural history of " super- aaturalism," Feuerbach's ' Essence of Christianity." There is nothing like constructive revolution in Mr. Paine's attacks on tho ecclesiastical hierarchy which has been, notwith- standing its faults, and is now, and for some time past, abomin- -able abuses, the nurse of civilization the initiator of human progress. But there is, in the effects of his attacks on venerable abuses, that which is fast necessitating constructive revolution. Still, it is to be regretted that so many of those whom Mr. Paine's caustic argument put in more zealous than formidable battle array against priestcraft, run away with the idea, so unjust and humiliating to human nature, that the whole gospel system was, from the beginning, but a nefarious scheme of priests and kings, whereby to destroy liberty ; that the Church has always been but a hypocritical and tyrannical organization. For in consequence of these views, they think that they have found out all that need be known with respect to the great question of man's instinctive faith ; and vainly imagine, that through the power of reason alone, all the temples of superstition can be demolished, or shaved down to common school-houses ; and think that this will make the world about as good as it is capable of becoming. The plain truth is, that Mr. Paine's theological views are as superficial as his religious conceptions are profound. [It will be recollected that "to do go'd,'' was Mr. Paine's religion.] His belief in a supernatural " God," in " happiness after death, and in " some punishment for the wicked," though immeasur- ably less atrocious than the Judaistic and Paganistic Christian- ism which he com batted, are not a whit more intelligible ; and had " The Age of Reason " been written by some sharp-witted magazine critic, instead of by the author of "The Crisis," " Common Sense," and " Rights of Man ;" or by some obscure individual, instead of by the companion of, and co-worker with, Published by Mr. Gilbert Vale. The other works here referred to and also "The Age of Reason," and " Examination of The Prophecies," ar published by C. Blanchard. PERIOD THillD. 53 Washington, Jefferson, Franklin, Adams, and Lafayette, its notoriety never would have reached the height, to which it im- mediately arose, and which, o\ving to clerical persecution, and to the abominable inj ustice and ingratitude with which Paine has been treated, it will no doubt gain upon for some time to come. But we must, in full justice to Thomas Paine, take into account the fact, that his theology is susceptible of a very liberal interpretation. I, too, materialist though I am* believe in a God; a God as infinite as is all of which we can conceive; ay, and as real; a God as almighty as is materiality; which is at once both agent and act, and out cf whose presence we can- not go even in thought, will prove to be, through that only intel- ligiMe miracle, development. I believe, furthermore, in the punishment of the wicked; and that, too, after deatli. Nay, I know that the punishment of all sin is inevitable. Is not that monster of iniquity, society, though dead and all but rotten in " trespasses and sins," under- going the very torments of the damned 1 I hope for, nay, I know that I shall have, happiness: after death; that every particle of me will, through chemical change, and the refinements which nature is with rapidly increasing speed, elaborating, go to form 'material beings as much happier than any which now exist, as " glorified saints and angels " are imagined to be. But Mr Paine has won such laurels through his political writings, that he can richly afford to yield the palm with respect to theology ; not that he has not, though negatively, done good service, even in this field. His theological writings have cleared the way for the practical and positive in social affairs, by show- ing that reason, or speculativeness, though of importance in starting the march of human progress, is utterly inefficient in the all important respects of the motive and the creative power, necessary to speed that progress to its goal. The " Age of Reason " negatively prepared the way for the introduction of science and art into social architecture ; for the inaugration of the knowable, the practical, the humane, the * Of all the Deistical works that I have examined, none appear to me to be less inconsistent than the one by Henri D : dier, avocat, publisher] nt Geneva, in 1851). His remarks on the cle-gy 's great lever, education, ou^ht to be read by every reformer. The work is entitled " Conciliation Ra- tionnelle du Droit et du Devoir." It appears to me that M. Disdier has omitted no argiiment that can be adduced to siipport the proposition that there exists a " Supernatural God," or " DIeu Personnel." 54 PERIOD THIRD. efficient, in place of the mysterious, the speculative, the vindic- tive, the provisional, and otherwise abortive. I know that these views will be somewhat distasteful to many of Mr. Paine's admirer's; but I have undertaken to give an im- partial history, and therefore cannot let my own admiration or that of others for the great man I am writing about, blind me to the great truth, that, till the perfection point be gained, means, even those as powerful as Mr. Paine used, must, as fast as they exhaust their efficacy, be thrust aside for those of greater and greater potency. Opinionism has long since fulfilled its function in the social organism, and therefore cannot too soon be rejected, along with its correlative, moralism, and that now main dependence of vice, virtue. Principle has become an excrescence, and should be immediately expelled for enlightened selfishness. Principle is the barricade behind which hypocrisy hides. It encumbers the path through which actual progress ought to have a free passage. But to return to the thread of this history : In April, 1795, a committee was appointed to form another new constitution (the former one having been abolished), and the report of this committee was brought forward on the 23rd of June following, by Boissy d' Anglais. In 1795, Mi\ Paine wrote a speech in opposition to several of the articles of the new constitution which had been presented for adoption, which was translated and read to the convention by Citizen Lanthera, on the seventh of July. He particularly contended against the unjust distinction that was attempted to be made between direct and indirect taxes. Whatever weight his objections ought to have carried, they were not listened to by the convention, and the constitution of Boissy d' Anglais was adopted. By this decree the convention was formally dis- solved ; and as Mr. Paine was not afterward re-elected, it also terminated his public functions in France. The reign of terror* having somewhat subsided, Mr. Paine * Let me not be misunderstood, in speaking as I have, and shall, of dema- gogues, priests, and " oppressors " generally. I by no means approve of the avalanche of blame in which Robespierre has been overwhelmed. He and his colleagues were but the instruments of an infuriated populace which an unfortunate train of circumstances had let loose upon those whom equally unfortunate causes had made their oppressors. It is highly worthy of attention, that all the blood shed during the long " infidel " ' ' reign of terror," amounted to but little more than half what had flown in a single day (St. Bartholomew's), under the reign of supernatural- istic terror. The whole number guillotined by order of the Revolutionary PERIOD THIRD. 55 resumed his pen. About the time when he brought out the second part of the "Age of Reason," he published several pam- phlets on subjects less likely to inflame the passions of the bigoted and ignorant ; the principal of these are his " Disserta- tion on first Principles of Government," " Agrarian Justice opposed to Agrarian Law," and the " Decline and Fall of the English System of Finance." The first of these is a continua- tion of the arguments advanced in the " Rights of Man;" the second is a plan for creating in every country a national fund " to pay to every person when arrived at the age of twenty -one A years, the sum of fifteen pounds sterling, to enable him or her to ! begin the world ; and also ten pounds sterling, per annum, during ' life, to every person now living of the age of fifty year?, and to I all others, when they shall arrive at that age, to enable them to live without wretchedness, in old age, and to go decently out of the world." In 1796, he published at Paris a " Letter to General Wash- ington." The principal subject of this letter was the treaty which had recently been concluded between the United States and Great Britain. From the articles of the treaty, Mr. Paine contends, that those who concluded it had compromised the honor of Ameri-*i, and the safety of her commerce, from a dis- position to Gw+ffti to the British ministry. The cold neglect of Washington* *rward Mr. Paine during his imprisonment, forms likewise & inurnment subject of the letter,' and but for this cir- cumstauv"'-., it is probable that it would never have appeared. Notwithstanding the high opinion which Washington professed to entertain of his services in behalf of American independence, he abandoned him in a few years afterward to the mercy of Robespierre, and during his imprisonment of eleven months he never made an effort to release him. This was not the treat- ment which the author of " The Crisis " deserved at the hands of Washington, either as a private individual, or as president of tribunal was 18,603, viz: Nobles, 1,278. Noble women, 750. Wives of laborers and artisans, 1,467. Religeuses, 350. Priests, 1,135. Common persons, not noble, 13,623. . The lowest estimate of the number of victims of the St. Bartholomew massacre, is 25,000; but there is every reason for supposing that the number was not less than 30,000. In six weeks time, the supernaturalistically misguided Duke a, in- stigated the murder, for conscience sake, of 18,000 people in the king- dom of the Netherlands. Is it not time that the murderous system of blame and punishment, to- gether with their correlate, principle, was superseded * 56 PERIOD THIRD. the United States. Exclusive of Mr. Paine's being a citizen of the United States, and consequently entit.ed to the protection of its government, he had rendered her services which none but the ungrateful could forget; he had therefore no reason to expect that her chief magistrate would abandon him in the hour of peril. However deserving of our admiration some parts of General Washington's conduct towards Mr. Paine may be, his behaviour in this instance certainly reflects no honor upon his character; and we are utterly at a loss for an excuse for it, on recollecting that when the American residents of Paris de- manded Paine's release, the answer of the convention mainly was, that the demand could not be listened to "in consequence of its not being authorized by the American government" Mr. Paine regarded the United States as his home; and although his spirit of universal philanthrophy, his republican principles, and his resolution in attacking fraud in politics and superstition in religion, rendered him rather, a citizen of the world than of any particular country, he had domestic feelings and pivotal attachments. During his residence in Europe, he always declared his intention of returning to America ; the fol- lowing extract from a letter of his to a lady at New York will show the affectionate regard which he cherished for the country whose affairs were the means of first launching him into public life: " You touch me on a very tender point when you say, that my friends on your side of 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 Bordertown, 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 innocence 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 fashion- able of that day, enveloped in dissipation, shall deride the prin- ciple 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 excit our regret than the mouldering ruins of pompous palaces, PERIOD THIRD. 57 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 sump- tuous extravagance; but here! ah! painful thought! the noblest work of human wisdom, the greatest scene of human glory, the fair cause of freedom, rose and fell! Head this, then ask if 1 forgot America." In 1797, a society was formed in Paris, under the title of "Theophilanthropists." Of this society, Mr. Paine, was one of the principal founders. More of this anon. This year Mr. Paine published a "Letter to the People of France; on the Events of the eighteenth Fructidor." About the middle of the same year he also wrote a letter to Camille Jordan, one of the council of five hundred, respecting his report on the priests, public worship, and bells. "It is want of feeling," says he, "to talk of priests and hells, while 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 ap- plied ; but priests and bells, like articles of luxury, ought to be the least articles of consideration." The publication of his deistical opinions lost Mr. Paine a great number of his friends, and, it is possible, that this might be one of the causes of General Washington's indifference. The clear, open, and bold manner in which he had exposed the fallacy of long established opinions, called forth the indignation of the whole order of priesthood both in England and America, and there was scarcely a house of devotion in either country, which did not ring with pious execrations against the author of the "Age of Reason," The apostles of superstitioji witnessed with amazement and terror the immense circulation of the work, and trembled at the possibility that men might come to think for themselves.* * The late Mr. George H. Evans (one of the first movers of the land reform question) was the first collector and publisher of Paine's Works in thia country ; and the late Frances Wright d'Arusmont rendered, and Mrs. E. L. Rose is now rendering, most efficient aid in disseminating such views of these works as the popular mind is capable of taking. The constructive revolutionist must admire the stand she has BO bravely 58 PERIOD THIRD. On leaving th house of Mr. Monroe, Paine boarded in the family of Nicholas Bonneville, a gentleman in good circum- stances, and editor of a political paper, the " Bouche de Fer." In 1797, the society of " Theophilanthropists " was formed in Paris. Men capable of any reflection began to see how utterly monstrous was the attempt to dispense with religion with a universal higher law to which to appeal with something to satisfy, or at least prevent from being utterly discouraged, the instinctive aspirations of the human heart. Robspierre objected to atheism as aristocratic; but Paine saw somewhat further than this, and Larevilliere, a member of the Directory, was im- pressed with the necessity of a system which should rival the catholic church itself. The idea was supremely great, and lacked only the Comtean conception of science to make it a suc- cess. As it was, however, it proved a worse failure than has even Christianism. Pure Deism is not at all more intelligible than is that mixture of Deism, Buddhism, Judaism, and Paganism, called Christianity; and the cold moralism which is attached to the one God system, the human heart instinctively abhors. Paine, and all the other doctors of divinity with whom he was in unison, were far behind even Mahomet, or Joe Smith, in respect to theology. Haiiy, a brother of the eminent cry stall ogist, assembled the first society of Theophilanthropists. They held their meetings on Sunday, and had their manual of worship and hymn-book. and ably taken with respect to woman's rights, however exceptional some of the measures she has advocated may be considered. But there is no danger that the legitimate object of man's adoration. woman can be drawn into that maelstrom of abomination, caucus-and-bal- lot-boxism, and if I mistake not, Mrs. Hose does not press the extension of " elective franchise," to her sex quite as vigorously as she used to. At all events, she is doing good service to the cause of human emancipation ; she has been * pioneer in a reform on which further progress importantly depends; for which she deserves the hearty "thanks of man and woman." Abner Kneeland was, I believe, the first editor of the first "openly avowed Infidel paper" in the United States, the "Boston Investigator ;" now edited by Horace Seaver, Esq. As to Theodore Parker, his exertions in the cause of free inquiry are of world-wide notoriety : and I will here mention that " The Evidences against Christianity," by John S. Hittell, should be the hand-book of all those who look to reason, free discussion, and to an exposure of falsehood and error, for the salvation of the human race. The services which Mr. Joseph Barker has rendered the liberal cause will not soon be forgotten. His debate with Dr. Berg floors Christianity to the utmost that argument can. rSut I much prefer the valedictory letter which he published in the "Investigator," previous to his departure for Europe. Evidently, the writer is beginning to see that something more than mer* negativism IB needed to put uown superstition. PEEIOD THIRD. 59 Robespierre had, three years before, given a magnificent fete in honor of I'Etre Supreme, and Paine now delivered a dis- course before one of the Theophilanthropist congregations, in which he attempted to blend science and "supernaturalism." That some parts of his discourse would have done honor to an Orthodox divine, the following extracts will attest: "Do we want to contemplate His [God's] power? We see it in the immensity of the creation. Do we want to contemplate his wisdom? We see it in the unchangeable order by which the incomprehensible whole is governed. Do we want to contem- plate His mercy 1 ? We see it in His not withholding His abundance even from the unthankful In fine, do we want to know what God is ? Search not written books, but the Scriptures called the Creation." The finale of the miserable political and religious farce which had been played in France, was, that, in 1799, Bonapai'te sent a file of grenadiers to turn both the political and theological quacks out of their halls; and the sooner some Bonaparte does the same thing in the United States, the sooner will the cause of liberty be at least delivered from the management of those who are insulting, disgracing, and treacherously betraying it. Whilst writing this, the two great parties of spoil-seekers in the United States, have been causing for, and have at length decided on, two individuals out of some thirty millions, one of whom is to be demagogism's cat's-paw general for the next four years. The qualifications of one of these candidates for the presi- dential chair, consist in his having been a "farm-laborer, a common workman in a saw-mill, and a boatman on the Wabash and Mississsippi rivers;" a wood-chopper, a hunter, a soldier in the Black Hawk war, a clerk in a store, and finally a sham-law manufacturer and monger a member of a legislature, and a lawyer. The qualifications of his opponent on the political- rac^-course, are probably about as different in respect to value, from those just enumerated, as fiddlededum is from fiddlededee. Those convenient tools of both parties, those chessmen with which the political game is played The People, however have great expectations of reform from which ever candidate they vote (theyvotel do they? Faugh/) for, provided he is elected. But mark me well, my dear fellow-sufferers; you, and all, except about one in fifty or a hundred of the office-seekers whose thievish fingers itch for the public treasury, are destined 60 PERIOD THIRD. to utter, and most woeful disappointment. Still, I neither blame the demagogues nor yourselves. In the concluding sentences of this history, I shall tell you where the fault lies; for I hope, that the political scamps who, in this country, are making the name of freedom a scorn and a derision throughout the rest of the world, will be eliminated by those who will make liberty an actuality. How this may be done, I claim to have demonstrated in " The Eeligion of Science," and " Essence of Science." Throughout Paine's political writings, notwithstanding their popularistic dressings, there runs a tone entirely condemnatory of demagogism, and highly suggestive of social science and art. And there is no question but that the miserable abortion in which the liberty-agitation seemed to terminate in France, and the failing aspect which it took on in America, even in his day, all but " burst his mighty heart," and made him somewhat care- less, though far from slovenly, with respect to his person. Paine's opposition to the atheists, on the one hand, and to- the cruelty of those who, headed by Robespierre, had instituted the worship of the " Supreme Being" on the other, had grad- ually rendered him unpopular in France. His remittances from the United States not being very regular, M. Bonneville added generosity to the nobleness which he, considering the circumstances displayed, in opening his door to Mr. Paine, by lending him money whenever he wanted it. This kindness, Paine had soon both the opportunity and the means of reciprocating; for majority absolutism had now be- come so unbearably despotic, so exceedingly morbific to the social organism in France, that to save civilization even from destruction, Bonaparte had to be invested with supreme power in the State, and the noninally free press of M. Bonneville was consequently stopped. Mr. Paine's liberty mission in France, having now evidently failed [always remembering that nothing in nature is an abso- lute failure that progres is the constant rule and the seeming contrary but an aberration], he at once resolved to return to the United States, where he offered an asylum to M. Bonneville and family ; in consequence of which, Madame Bonneville and her three sons soon left Paris for New York. Owing to some cause or other, but not to the one which Paine's slanderers were afterwards mulcted in damages, even in a Christian court of Justice, for assigning, M. Bonneville did' PERIOD THIRD. 61 not accompany them. The eldest son returned to his father in Paris; but Mr. Paine amply provided for the maintenance of Madaiae Bonneville and her two sons who remained in America. At Paris, such personages as the Earl of Lauderdale, Dr. Moore, Brissot, the Marquis de Chatelet le Hoi, General Mi- randa, Capt. Imlay, Joel Barlow, Mr. and Mrs. Stone, and Mary Wollstonecraft,* sought the honor of Mr. Paine's com- pany. That Mr. Paine's eloquence and power of reasoning were un- surpassed even by Cicero, Demosthenes or Daniel Webster, his political writings fully attest. Betore it became known who wrote " Common Sense," it was by some attributed to Dr. Franklin ; others insisted that it was by that elegant writer of English, John Adams, f " It has been very generally propagated through the continent," says Mr. Adams, " that I wrote this pamphlet. ... I could not have written anything in so manly and striking a style." This eulogy, be it remembered, was pronounced by one who was so jealous of Paine's credit in the matter of the Declaration of Independence, that, says Randall, in his " Life of Thomas Jef- ferson," he ' spares no occasion to underrate Paine's services, and to assault his opinions and character. "J Mr. Randall continues: " A more effective popular appeal [than ' Common Sense '] never went to the bosoms of a nation. Its tone, its manner, its biblical illusions, its avoidance of all openly impassioned appeals to feeling, and its unanswerable common sense were * Authoress of "A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, with Strictures on Political and Moral Subjects." A work, the exceeding merit of which has been lost sight of, in its name, since woman's rights have been claimed to consist in the liberty to degrade herself to the level of the politician. f That that great patriot, John Adams, ami many other revolutionary worthies vaguely entertained the idea of Independence before "Common Sense " was published, there can be no doubt. But the question is, who had the courage to first propose the thing, and in a practical shape ? That Mr. Adam's prudence predominated over his courage, great as that was, is fur- ther deducible from the strong reason there was for the inference that his religious opinions, if openly expressed, would have appeared as far from the orthodox standard, as were those of Paine. See Randall's " Life of Jeffer- son," on this point. 1 have before called the attention of the reader to the fact that Rousseau was, like Paine, an "author hero;" his writings were prominently the text of the French Revolution. I will further remark, that whoever drew up the " Declaration of Independence," has given indisputable evidence of hav- ing well studied the " Contrat Social " of the author of the " world-famous " " Confessions." 62 PERIOD THIRD. exquisitely adapted to the great audience to which it wa& addressed; and calm investigation will satisfy the historical student, that its effect in preparing the popular mind for the Declaration of Independence, exceeded that of any other paper, speech, or document made to favor it, and it would scarcely be exaggeration to add, than all other such means put together." " No writer," says Thomas Jefferson, " has exceeded Paine in ease and familiarity of style, in perspicuity of expression, happiness of elucidation, and in simple and unassuming language." Says General Washington, in a letter to Joseph Reed (Jan. 31, 1776): "A few more such flaming arguments as were ex- hibited at Falmouth and Norfolk, added to the sound doctrine and unanswerable reasoning contained in the pamphlet ' Com- mon Sense,' will not leave numbers at a loss to decide on the propriety of a separation." That Paine possessed a very superior degree of mechanical skill, his model for iron-bridges abundantly proves. That his genius for poetry lacked but cultivating, I think will sufficiently appear from the following little effusion, extracted from his correspondence with a lady, afterwards the wife of Sir Robert Smith : FKOM "THE CASTLE IN THE AIK," 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 of the skies, And the windows with sun-beams were gilt. The rainbow sometimes, in its beautiful state, Enamelled the mansion around, 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 rolled. While wrapt in a slumber 1 lay : And when I looked out in the morning, behold I My castle was carried away. It passed over rivers, and valleys, and grovea The world, it was all in mv view I thought of mv friends, of their fates, of their love% And often, full often, of you. PERIOD THIRD. 63 At length it came over a beautiful scene, That nature in silence had made : The place was but small but 'twas sweetly serene, And chequered with sunshine and shade. I gazed and I envied with painful good will, And grew tired of my seat in the air: "When all of a sudden my castle stood still, As if some attraction was tl are. 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 comer of calmness but you. Delighted to find you in honor and ease, I felt no more sorrow nor pain ; And the wind coming fair, I ascended the breeze, And went back with my castle again. On the subject of the simplicity of Mr. Paine's habits, and his general amiability, his friend Clio Rickman remarks: "He usually rose about seven, breakfasted with his friend Choppin, Johnson, and two or three other Englishmen, and a Monsieur La Borde, who had been an officer in the ci-devant grande du corps, an intolerable aristocrat, but whose skill in mechanics and geometry brought on a friendship between him and Paine; for the undaunted and distinguished ability and firmness with which he ever defended his own opinions when controverted, do not reflect higher honor on him than that un- bounded liberality toward the opinion of others which consti- tuted such a prominent feature in his character, and which never suffered mere difference of sentiment, whether political cr religious, to interrupt the harmonious intercourse of friend- ship, or impede the interchanges of knowledge and information. " After breakfast he usually strayed an hour or two in the garden, where he one morning pointed out the kind of spider whose web furnished him with the first idea of constructing his iron bridge; a fine model of which, in mahogany, is pre- served at Paris. " The little happy circle who lived with him here will ever remember these days with delight: with these select friends he would talk of his boyish days, play at chess, whist, piquet, or cribbage, and enliven the moments by many interesting anec- dotes: with these he would sport on the broad and tine gravel walk at the upper end of the garden, and then retire to his bouboir, where he was up to his knees in letters and papers of . AGE OF REASON. FELLOW CITIZENS OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. I PUT the following work itnder your protection. It contains my opinion upon Religion. You will do me the justice to remem- ber, that I have always strenuously supported the Eight 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 him- self 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. Your affectionate friend and fellow citizen, THOMAS PAINE. Luxembourg, (Paris,') 8th Pulwise, Second year of the French Republic, one and indivisible^ January 27, 0. S. 1794. THE AGE OF REASON. PART FIRST. It has been my intention, for several yean past, to pub- lish my thoughts upon religion; I am well aware of the diffi- culties that attend the subject, and from that consideration, had reserved it to a more advanced period of life. I in- tended it to be the last offering I should make to my 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 ques- tion, 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 priest- hood, and of every thing appertaining to compulsive systems of religion, and compulsive articles of faith, has not only precipitated my intention, but rendered a work of this kind exceedingly necessary, lest, in the general wreck of super- stition, of false systems of government, 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 wiU make mine; and I do this with all that sincerity and frank- ness with which the mind of man communicates with itself. I believe in one God, and no more; and I hope for happi- ness beyond this life. I believe in the equality of man; and I believe that re- ligious duties consist in doing justice, loving mercy, and endeavoring to make our fellow creatures happy. But, lest it should be supposed that I believe many other thingi in addition to these, I shall, in the progress of this TEX AGE OF BBASOH. [PUR X. 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 Turkish church, by the Protestant church, nor by any church that I know of. My own mind is my own church. All national institutions of churches, whether Jewish, Christian, or Turkish, appear to me no other than human in- ventions, set up to terrify and enslave mankind, and monop- olize 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 does not consist in believing, 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 o express it, that mental lying has produced in society. When a man has so far corrupted and prostituted the chas- tity of his mind, as to subscribe his professional belief to things he does not believe, 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 anything more destructive to morality than this? Soon after I had published the pamphlet, " COMMON SKNSB," 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 effec- tually prohibited, by pains and penalties, every discussion upon established creeds, and upon first principles of relig- ion, that until the system of government should be changed, those subjects could not be brought fairly and openly be- fore the world; but that whenever this should be done, a rev- olution in the system of religion would follow. Human in- ventions 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 pretending some special mission from God, communi- PA.ICT I.J TBS AGK Or RKA80H. 7 oated to certain individuals. The Jews hare their Moses; the Christians their Jesus Christ, their apostles and saints; and the Turks their Mahomet, as if the way to God was not open to every man alike. Each of those churches show certain books, which they call revelation, 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 in- spiration; 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 unbelief ; 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 imme- diately from God to man. No man will deny or dispute the power of the Almighty to make such a communication, if he pleases. But admit- ting, 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 sec- ond person, a second to a third, a third to a fourth, and ao 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 anything a revelation that comes to us at second-hand, either verbally or in writing. Revelation is necessarily limited to the first communication after this, it is only an account of some- thing which that person says was a revelation made to him; and though he may find himself obliged to believe it, it can- not be incumbent on me to believe it in the same manner; for it was not a revelation made to me, 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 two tables of the commandments from the hands of God, they were 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 eommandments carry no internal evidence of divinity with them; they contain some good moral precepts such as any 8 THK AUK Or KKA80N. [>AKT 1. man Qualified to be a law-giver, or a legislator, could pro- duce himself, without haying recourse to supernatural inter- vention.* 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 co- habitation with a man, and that her betrothed husband, Joseph, said that an angel told him so, I have a right to be- lieve them or not ; such a circumstance required a much tronger 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 they laid to 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 pre- pared the people for the belief of such a story. Almost all the extraordinary men that lived under the heathen mythol- ogy 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 gods with women was then a matter of familiar opinion. Their Jupi- ter, according to their accounts, had cohabited with hun- dreds ; the story, therefore, had nothing in it either new, won- derful or obscene ; it was conformable to the opinions that then prevailed among the people called Gentiles, or Mythol- ogists, 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 curious to observe how the theory of what is called the Christian Church, sprung out of the tail of heathen my- thology. A direct incorporation took place in the first in- stance, by making the reputed founder to be celestially be- II la, howpver necessary to except the declaration which sajf that God vitUt M tint of C/i4 /atfari upon tfif efilidrtn ; It 1 contrary to every principle of PAKT I.j THB AOK OF KKA8OH. S gotten. The trinity of gods that then followed wa 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 change into the canonization of saints ; the Mythologista had gods for everything; the Christian Mythologists had saints for everything ; 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, accommo- dated to the purposes of power and revenue ; and it yet re- mains 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 virtuous and an amiable man. The morality that he preached and practiced 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 exceeded by any. Jesus Christ wrote no account of himself of his birth, parentage, or anything else; not a line of what is called the New Testament is of his own writing. The history of him is altogether the work of other people; and as to the account given of 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 u told, exceeds everything 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 advantage, that though they might not be credited^ they could not be detected. They could not be expected to prove it, because it was not one oif those things that admitted of proof, and it was 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 evidence it admits of, to the invisible conception of a 10 THE AOK OF BKA8OB. [PAKT L child in the womb. The resurrection and ascension, suppos- ing them to have taken place, admitted of public and ocular demonstration, like that of the ascension of a balloon, or the sun at noon day, to all Jerusalem at least. A thing which everybody is required to believe, reauires that the proof and evidence of it should be equal to all, and universal; and as the public risibility 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 evidence never was given. Instead of this, a small number of persons, 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 ocular and manual demonstration him- self. So neither will I, 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 resur- rection and ascension is said to have happened, and they say, it is not true. It has long appeared to me a strange in- consistency 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 historical relations strictly within the limits of proba- bility. He preached most excellent morality, and the equality of man ; but he preached also against the corruptions and avarice of the Jewish priests, and this brought upon him the hatred and vengeance of the whole order of priesthood. The accusation which those priests brought against him was that of sedition and conspiracy against the Roman govern- ment, to which the Jews were then subject and tributary; ?ABT 1.] THE AOE OF KKASON 11 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 improbable 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 with 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 anything that is to be found in the mythol- ogy 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 him- self, Mount Etna belches fire. It is here easy to see that the circumstance of the mount- ain, that of its being a volcano, suggested the idea of the fable; and that the fable is made to It and wind itself up with that circumstance. The Christian Mythologists tells us, that their Satan made war against the Almighty, who defeated him, and confined Kim afterwards, 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 further. They have contrived to connect the fabulous 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 my- thology 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 on the sequel of the fable. He is then introduced into the Garden of Eden in the shape of a snake or a serpent, and in that li THK AUK Of REASON. [PJLBT 1. shape he enters into familiar conversation with Eve, who IB no way surprised to hear a snake talk ; and the issue of this tete-a-tete is, that he persuades her to eat an apple, and the eating of that apple damns all mankind. 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 mount- ain,) or have put him under a mountain, as the former Mythol- ogists had done, to prevent 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 with- out 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 besides, and Mahomet into the bargain. After this, who can doubt the bountifulness 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 giving him a triumph over the whole creation damned all mankind by the eating of an apple, these Chris- tian Mythologists bring the two ends of their 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 everything that might excite laughter by its absurdity, or detestation by its profaneness, and confining ourselves merely to an examination of the parts, it is impos- sible 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 in- ventors were under the necessity of giving to the being, whom they call Satan, a power equally aa 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 they have made that power increase afterwards to infinity. Before this fall they LJ THB A OB Or RKAflOH. IS represent him only as an angel of limited existence, as they represent the rest. After his fall, he becomes, by their ac- count, 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 creation, 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 crea- tion 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 exhibit 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 anything else in the same manner. There are also many who have been so enthusiastically enraptured by what they conceived to be the infinite love of God to man, in making a sacrifice of himself, that the vehemence of the idea has for- bidden and deterred them from examining into the absurdity and profaneness of the story. The more unnatural anything is, the more is it capable of becoming the object of dismal admiration. But if objects for gratitude and admiration are our desire, do they not present themselves every hour to our eyes? Do we not see a fair creation prepared to receive us the instant we are born a world furnisned 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? 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 \t but a sacrifice of the Creator? 14 TUB AQ* OF RBA8OH. fpAKT I. I know that this bold investigation will alarm many, but it would be paving too great a compliment to their credulity to forbear it on 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 in all countries; and it will be a consolation to men staggering under that suspicion, and doubting what to believe and what to disbelieve, 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 Revelation (which, by the bye, is a book of riddles that requires a revelation to explain it), are, we are told, the word of God. It is, therefore, proper for us to know who told us so, that we may know what credit to give to the report. The answer to this qeestion is, that nobody can tell, except that we tell one another so. The case historically appear* to be as follows: When the church Mythologists established their system, they collected all the writings they could find, and managed them as they pleased. It is a matter altogether of uncer- tainty 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 WOBD or SOD, 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 other- wise, 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 matter. As we have no other external evidence or authority for believing these books to be the word of God, than what I have mentioned, which is no evidence or authority at all, I ooiae, in the next place, to examine the internal evidence contained in the books themselves. In t*M former part of this Essay, I have spoken of revel*- FA ITT I.] THE AGE 07 REA80H. 15 tion. I now proceed further with that subject, for the pur- pose of applying it to the books in question. Relevation 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 anything 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 Samson 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 were 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 con- template the immensity of that Being, who directs and gov- erns 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 tradi- tion 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 nobody that speaks ; t is nobody that hears ; it is addressed to nobody ; 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 uses on other occasions, such as that of saying, The Lord tpake unto Mose*, saying. Why it has been called the Mosaic account of the Crea- tion, I am &t a loss to conceive. Moses, I believe, was too 16 THE AOK OF KRAttoH. ' - >n 1 good a judge of such subjects to put his name to that ac- count. 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 ac- count, 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 contra- dict 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 debaucheries, the cruel and tortuous executions, the unre- lenting vindictiveness, with which more than half th 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 man- kind ; and, for my own part, I sincerely detest it, as I detest everything that is cruel. We scarcely meet with anything, a few phrases excepted, but what deserves either our abhorrence or our contempt, till we come to the miscellaneous parts of the Bible. In the anonymous publications, the Psalms, and the Book of Job, more particularly in the latter, we find a great deal of ele- vated 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 eco- nomical than those of the American Franklin. All the remaining parts of the Bible, generally known by the name of the Prophet*, are the works of the Jewish poets and itinerant preachers, who mixed poetry, anecdote, and devotion together and those works still retain the air and tyle of poetry, though in translation.* A* there ar many reader* who do nut Unit ft composition U poetry, wUan II be In rhyme, U U for their lufonimtlon that I add thlc note PAW L] THE AGE OE REASON. 17 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 prophet, 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 Vilso meant the art of ring poetry to a tune upon any instrument of music. 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 chat 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. 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, performed his part badly ; for it position of poetry differs from that of prose in the manner of miring long and short syllables together. Take a long syllable out of a line of poetry, and put short one in the room of It, or put a long syllable where a short one should be, and that line 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 these books, called the prophets, appertains altogether to poe- try. It is fictitious, and often extravagant, and not admissible in any other kind or 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 syllv bleB, (heroic measure) that shall rhyme with the last word. It will then be eii that the composition of thexe books is poetical measure. The instance I shall produce 1* from Isaiah : " Hear, yf hfarrn*, and gtvt tar tariff" Tis God hlnipelf that calls attention forth. Another Instance I shall quote In from the mournful Jeremiah, to which I shall dd two other lines, for the purpose of c/urvinx ont the figure, and ahowlnc U> .Ion of the poet. " 0. thai mint tfad vtrt >citfri nmi mint y* " Were fountain* flowing Mk liquid skies ; Tben wooiil I *1v the mighty rt.m.l reload*. 18 THB AGE 0V RKA80S. [PAR! 1 is said, that, an "coil tpiritfrom GW* 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 to 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. Th 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 predicted anything, 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 reconcilable 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 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 labored commentaries that have been written upon them, under that mistaken meaning, are not worth As thoM men who call themnelTes dlnnw and commentator'*, are rer? fond of pnz/.lhig one another, I leave them to contest the meaning of the flrut part of th phrase, that of an evil ijtirit and I become so tired of examining into its inconsis- tencies and absurdities, that I hasten to the conclusion of it, tn order to proceed to something better. How much, or what parts of the books called the New Testament, 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 correspondence. 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. Revela- tion 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 person 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 proba- bility 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 person whose life was humility and poverty. The invention of purgatory, and of the releasing of souls therefrom, by prayers, bought of the church with money; the selling of pardons, dispensations and indulgences, are revenue laws, without bearing that name or carrying that appearance. But the case nevertheless is, that those things derive their origin from th paroxvsm of the crucifixion and the theory deduced therefrom, which was, that one person could stand in the place of another, and could perform meri- torious services for him. The probability, therefore, is, that PART I.J THE AGE OF REASON. 28 the whole theory or doctrine of what is called the redemp- tion (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 pur- pose. Why 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 everything else she has told us; or for the miracles she says she has performed? That she could fabricate writings is certain, because she could write; and the composition of the writings in question, is of that kind that anybody might do it; and that she did fabri- cate them is not more inconsistent with probability, than that she could 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 doctrines called redemption or not, (for such evidence, whether for or against, would be subject to the same sus- picion of being fabricated,) the case can only be referred to the internal evidence which the thing carries within itself; and this affords a very strong presumption 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 himself, and pay it for me; but if I have com- mitted 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, correspond- ing to that of a debt, which another person might pay; and as this pecuniary idea corresponds again with the system of second redemptions, obtained through the means of money given to the church for pardons, the probability ia, that the 34 THB AOE 0V RBASOW. [PART I. 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 bis 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 everything 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 humility is ingratitude; he calls himself a worm, and the fertile earth a dunghill; and all the blessings of life by the thankless name of vani- ties; he despises the choicest gift of God to man the GIFT or REASON; and having endeavored to force upon himself the belief of a system against which reason revolts, he un- gratefully calls it human reason, as if man could give reason to himself. Yet, with all this strange appearance of humility, and this contempt for human reason, he ventures into the boldest presumptions; he finds fault with everything; his selfish- ness is never satisfied; his ingratitude is never at an end. He takes on himself to direct the Almighty what to do, even in the government of the universe; he prays dictatorially; when it is sunshine he prays for rain, and when it is rain, he prays for sunshine; he follows the same idea in every- thing that he prays for; for what is the amount of all hi* 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. THB WORD OF GOD is THB CREATION WE BEHOLD: And it is in this wore?, which no human invention can counterfeit or alter, that God speaketh universally to man. I.] TEE AGE OF BKA8ON. 25 Human language is local and changeable, and is, therefore, incapable 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 several centuries (and that in contradiction to the discoveries of philosophers and the experience of navigator*), 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 anything known to all nations? 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 lan- guage, or understand each other; and as to translations, every man who knows anything of languages, knows that it was impossible to translate from one language to another, not only without not losing a great part of the original, 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 accom- plish any end, be equal to the accomplishment of that end, or the end cannot be accomplished. It is in this, that the difference between finite and infinite power and wisdom dis- covers itself. Man frequently fails in accomplishing his ends, from a natural inability of the power to the purpose; and frequently from the want of wisdom 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 espe- cially 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 CKKATION that all our ideas and concep- tions of a word of God can unite. The creation speaketh an universal language, independently of human speech or human language, multiplied and various as they be. It i an ever-existing original, which every man can read. It 96 THB AGB OF REASOK. [PABT L cannot be forged ; it cannot be counterfeited ; it cannot be lost ; it cannot be altered ; it cannot be suppressed. It doe* not depend upon the will of man whether it shall be pub- lished or not; it publishes itself from one end of the 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 ? We see it in the unchangeable order by which the incomprehensible whole is governed. Do we want to contemplate his munifi- cence ? NYe see 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 un- thankful. 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, incomprehen- sible and difficult as it is for a man to conceive what a first cause is, he arrives at the belief of it, from the tenfold greater difficulty of disbelieving 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 duration 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, everything we behold carries in 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 neces- sity, to the belief of a first cause eternally existing, of a nature totally different 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 dis- cover God. Take away that reason, and he would be in- capable of understanding anything; 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 ? PART L] THB AQB OF BEASON. 27 Almost the only parts in the book called the Bible, that convey to us any idea of God, are some chapters in Job, and tne 19th Psalm; I recollect no other. Those parts are true deistical compositions; 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 English 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 today, 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 list'ning earth, Repeats the story of her birth; Whilst all the stars that "round her ban, 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 radiant orbs be found, In reason's ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice, Forever singing as they shine, TUB HAND THAT MAUB 08 IS DlYtX. What more does man want to know, than that the hand or power that made these things is Divine, ia 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 tend- ency with this Psalm; 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 appli- cable to the subject I am speaking upon: ** Canst them by searching find out God? Canst thou find oat the Almighty to perfection r* 88 THK AGK 07 REASON. [PJJBT L 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? 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 conclusion 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 perfec- tion? No; not only because the power and wisdom He has manifested in the structure of the Creation that I behold is to me incomprehensible, but because even this manifestation, great as it is, is probably but a small display of that immen- sity of power and wisdom, by which millions of other worlds, to me invisible by tneir 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 ques- tion 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 discovering 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 any 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, PART l.J THB AGB OF BKAflOH. 29 however, is far inferior to the allusions in Job and in the 19th Psalm; but it is similar in idea, and the modesty of the imagery is correspondent 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 religious denial of God. It professes to believe 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 effect of this obscurity has been that of turning every thing upside down, and representing it in reverse; and among the revolutions 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 wisdom 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 concern- ing 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 aban- doned the original and beautiful system of theology, like a beautiful innocent, to distress and reproach, 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, re- vealed and manifested in those works, made a great part of the religious devotion of the times in which they were writ- ten ; and it was this devotional study and contemplation that led to the discovery of the principles upon which, what 80 THK AOK OF RKA8OH. [PART I. are now called sciences, are established ; and it ia to the discovery of these principles that almost all the arts that contribute to the convenience of human life, owe their exist- ence. Every principal art has some science for its parent, though the person who mechanically performs the work does not always, and but very seldom, perceive the connec- tion. It is a fraud of the Christian system to call the sciences human invention ; it is only the application of them that is human. Every science has for its basis a system of princi- ples as fixed and unalterable 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 almanac 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 a thing that is eternal and immutable ; and the scientific principles he employs for this purpose must, and are, of necessity, as eternal and immuta- ble 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 foreknowledge of an eclipse, or of any thing else, relating to the motion of the heavenly bodies, are contained chiefly in that part of science 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 naviga- tion ; 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 architecture ; when applied to the measurement of any portion of the sur- face of the earth, it is called land-surveying. In fine, it ia the soul of science ; it is an eternal truth ; it contains tha PABT I.J THE AGE OF REASON. 81 mathematical 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 therefore a triangle is a human invention. 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 independently 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 prop- erties 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 mechani- cal instrument called a lever; but the principle, by which the lever acts, is a thing distinct from the instrument, and would exist if the instrument did not ; it attaches itself to the in- strument after it is made ; the instrument, therefore, can act no otherwise that it does act ; neither can all the efforts of human invention make it act otherwiae that which, in all such cases, man calls the effect, is no other than the principle itself rendered perceptible to the senses. Since, then, man cannot make principles, from whence did he gain a knowledge of them, so to be able to apply them, not only to things on earth, but to ascertain the motion of Bodies so immensely distant from him ss H!! the neaveniy bodies are? From whence, I ask, could he gain that knowl- edge, but from the study of the true theology? It is the strusture of the universe that has taught this knowledge to man. That structure is an ever-existing ex- hibition of every principle upon which every part of mathe- matical science is founded The offspring of this science is mechanics ; for mechanics is no other than the principle* of science applied practically. The man who proportions the several parts of a mill, uses the same scientific princi- ples, as if he had the power of constructing an universe; but as he cannot give to matter that invisible agency, by which all the component parts of the immense machine of 82 THE AGE OF REABOH. [PA.T L the universe have influence upon each other, and act in motional unison together, without any apparent contact, and to which man has given the name of attraction, gravi- tation, and repulsion, he supplies the place of that agency by the humble imitation of teeth and cogs. All the parts of man's microcosm must 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 another 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 de- scribes also a triangle; and the corresponding sides of those two triangles, calculated scientifically, or measured geomet- rically; and also the sines, tangents, and secants generated from the angles, and geometrically measured, nave 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 togeth- er, and produce 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 knowl- edge that all the arts have originated. The Almighty Lecturer, by displaying the principles of PART LJ THE AGE OK REASON. 3d science in the structure of the universe, has invited man to study and to imitation. It is as if He had said to the in- habitants of this globe, that we call ours, u 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, AND LEARN FBOM MY MUNI- FICENCE 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 incomprehensible distance, an immensity of worlds revolv- ing in the ocean of space ? Or of what use is it that this immensity of worlds is visible to man? What has man to do with the Pleiades, with Orion, with Sirius, 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 immensity of vision. But when he con- templates 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 noth- ing. As the Christian system of faith has made a revolution in theology, 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 & learned people, but learning with them did not consist in speaking Greek, any more than in a Roman's speaking 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 84 THB AGE OF SEASON. [PAJTT L schools of the Greeks were schools of science and philoso- phy, 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 us from the Greeks, or the people who spoke the Greek lan- guage. It, therefore, became necessary for the people of otner nations, who spoke a different language, that some among them should 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 phi- losophy 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 drudgery business of a linguist ; and the language thus obtained, was no other than the means, as it were the tools, employed to obtain the learning the Greeks had. It made no part of the learning itself ; and was so distinct from it, as to make it ex- ceedingly probable that the persons 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 languages, all the useful books being already translated, the languages 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 communica- tion of knowledge, (for it has nothing to do with the creation of knowledge,) it is only in 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 difficulty of learning the dead languages does not arise from any superior ab- Btruseness 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 under- stand Greek so well as a Grecian ploughman did, or a Gre- cian 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 l.J THE AGE OF BEASON. 35 of the dead languages, and to make learning 1 consist, M it originally did, in scientific knowledge. The apology that is sometimes made for continuing to teach the dead languages is, that 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 errone- ous. The human mind has a natural disposition to scientific knowledge, and to the things connected with it. The first and favorite amusement of a child, even before it begins to play, is that of imitating the works of man. 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 interests 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 phi- losopher 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 cut- ting down learning to the narrow and humble sphere of linguistry ; the cause, therefore, must be sought for else- where. In all researches of this kind, the best evidence that can be produced, is the eternal evidence the thing carries with itself, and the evidence of circumstances 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 suppos- ing him to make the innocent suffer for the guilty, and also the loose morality 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 a matter of distinct consideration, it is certain that what is called the Christian system of faith, including in it the whimsical ac- count of the creation the strange story of Eve the snake and the apple the ambiguous idea of a man-god the cor- poral 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 86 THE AOt OF REASON. [PAKT L of God, by the aid of the sciences, and by studying the struo- ture of the universe that God has made. The setters-up therefore, and the advocates of the Chris- tian system of faith, could not but foresee that the continu- ally progressive knowledge that man would gain, by the aid of science, of the power and wisdom of God, manifested in the structure of the universe, 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 effected by restrict- ing the idea of learning to the dead study of 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 entirely 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 PAST I.] TliK AGE OF REASON. 37 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 crea- tion affords, with respect to systems of religion. But this, the supporters or partisans of the Christian system, as if dreading the result, incessantly 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 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 partisans of the Chris- tian 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 corruption 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 It Is Impossible for us now to know at what time the heathen mythology began ; bat 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 pecies of theism, that It admitted the belief of only one God. Saturn is supposed to have abdicated the government in favor of his three sons and one daughter, Jupitc-r, Pinto, Neptune, and Juno; after this, thousands of other gods and demi- gods were imaginarily created, and the calendar of gods Increased as fast a* the calendar of saints und the calendars of courts have increased since. All the corruptions that hare taken place, in theology and In religion, have been produced by admitting of what man calls revealed religion. The MythologisU 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, ou almost all occasions. Since then all corruptions down from Moloch to modern predestlnarianism, and the human sacrifices of the heathens to the Christian sacrlilce of the Creator, have been produced by admitting of what is called revealed reliction ; the most effectual means to prevent all such evils and impositions is, not to admit of any other revelation than that which is manifested in the book of creation, and to contemplate the creation as the only trn and real work of God that ever did, or ever will exist; and that everything else called the word of God, is fable and Imposition S8 THE AOB OK SEASON. [PAJR I. 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 background of the scene. But the Christian system laid all waste ; and if we take our stand about the beginning of tne sixteenth century, we look back through that long chasm, to the times of the ancients, as over a vast sandy des- ert, in which not a shrub appears to intercept the vision, to the fertile hills beyond. 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 struc- ture 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 Refor- mation by Luther. From that time, though it does nonippear 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 mul- tiplicity of National Popes grew out of the downfall of the Pope of Christendom. 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 tne sev- eral 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 sys- tem 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 hall 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 PAST I.J THE AOK OJT KKA8OM. 89 fortune to have an exceeding good moral education, and a tolerable stock of useful learning. Though I went to the grammar school,* I did not learn Latin, not only because I had no inclination to learn languages, but because of the ob- jection the Quakers have against the books in which the lan- guage 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 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. Be vis, of the society, called the Royal Society, then living in the Temple, and an excellent astronomer. I had no disposition for what is called politics. It pre- sented to my mind no other idea than is contained in the word Jockeyship. When, therefore, I turned my thoughts towards matters of government, I had to form a system for myself, that accorded with the moral and philosophic princi- ples 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 themselves independent, they would not only involve them- selves 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 Jan- uary, 1776. Independence was declared the fourth of July following. Any person, who has made observations on the state and progress of the human mind, by observing his own, *Th tame school, Thetford In Norfolk, mm the preMnt Counselor Mlngaj west, to and under the tame master 40 THK AOB OF BEASOH. [PACT L 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 himself afterwards. Every person of learning is finally his own teacher, the reason of which is, that prin- ciples, being of a distinct quality to circumstances, cannot be impressed upon the memory; their place of mental resi- dence is the understanding, and thtw are never so lasting as when they begin by conception. Thus much for the intro- ductory part. 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 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 by the death of the Son of God. After the sermon 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 him- self any other way; and as I was sure a man would be hanged that did such a thing, I could not see for what pur- pose they preached such sermons. This was not one of that kind of thoughts that had anything 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 more- over 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 PAST I.J THE AGE OF REA8OHL 41 ashamed to tell their children any thing about the prin- ciples of their religion. They sometimes instruct them in morals, and talk to them of the goodness of what they call Providence; for the Christian Mythology has five deities there is God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, the God Providence, and the Goddess Nature. But the Christian story of God the Father putting his son to death, or employing people to do it, (for that is the plain language 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 incredibility of it. How different is this to the pure and simple profession of Deism! The true Deist has but one Deity; and his religion 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 me- chanical. The religion that approaches the nearest of all others to true Deism, in the moral and benign part thereof, is tnax professed by the Quakers: but they have contracted them- selves too much, by leaving the works of God out of their system. Though I reverence their philanthropy, I can not 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 permitted to sing. Quitting these reflections, I proceed to other matters. After I had made myself master of the use of the globes, and of the orrery,* and conceived an idea of the infinity of space, and the eternal divisability of matter, and obtained, at least, a general knowledge of what was called natural philosophy, I began to compare, or, as I have before said, AithU hook may fall Into the hands of penom who do not know what an orrery to, it ie for their information I add this note, a* the name give* no Id a of the uses of the thing. The orrery ha* 1U name from t' Invented it. It is a machinery of clock-work, representing t miniature, and In which the revolution of the earth round itself and rouud the son. the revolution of the moon round the earth, the revolution of the planets round the sau, their relative distances from the sun, as the centre of the whole system, their relative distances from each other, and their different magnitude*, are represent- ed u tfcey really eiiat la what we call the heaven*. 43 THE AQX Or BEASOH. [PAST L 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 habit- able 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 believe otherwise, that is, to believe that God created a plurality of 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 believes both, has thought but little of either. Though the belief of a plurality of worlds was familiar to the ancients, it is only within the last three centuries that the extent and dimensions of this globe that we inhabit have been ascertained. Several vessels, following the tract of the ocean, have sailed entirely 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 twei ty-five thousand and twenty English miles, reckoning sixty-nine miles and a half to an equatorial degree, and may be sailed round in the space of about three vears.* A world of this extent may, at first thought, appear to as 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, aa will be hereafter shown, is only one of a system of worlds, of which the universal creation is composed. It is not difficult to gain some faint idea of the immensity of 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 Allow-In? a sbtp to mill, on an average, three miles In an hour, the would sail entirely round the world In lew than out- y ar, If che couJd atl IB a direct circles li obliged to follow the course of the oceafa. PAST L] THE AGE OS KKA8OH. 43 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 boundary? and so on till the fatigued imagination returns and says, there i* 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 own 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 surrounds it, filled, and, as it were, crowded with life, down from the largest animals we know of to the smallest insects the naked eye can behold, and from thence to others still smaller, and totally invisible without the assistance of the microscope. 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. Having 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, instead 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 neces- sary (not for the sake of those who already know, but for those who do not) to show what the system of the universe is. That part of the universe that is called the solar system (meaning the system of worlds to which our earth belongs, and of which Sol, or in English language, the Sun, is the center) consists, besides the Sun, of six distinct orbs, or planets, or worlds, besides the secondary bodies, called the 4 r TUtt AUK OF KKASON. [PAST JL satellites or moons of which our earth has one that attends her in her annual revolution round the Sun, in like manner as other satellites or moons, attend the planets or worlds to which they severally belong, as may be seen by the assist- ance of the telescope. The Sun is the center, round which those six worlds or planets revolve at different distances therefrom, and in circles concentrate to each other. Each world keeps con- stantly in nearly the same track round the Sun, and con- tinues, at the same time, turning round itself, rn nearly an upright position, as a top turns round itself when it is spin- ning on the ground, and leans a little sideways. It is this leaning of the earth (23 degrees) that occasions summer and winter, and the different length of dkys and nights. If the earth turned round itself in a position per- pendicular to the plane or level of the circle it moves in around the Sun, as a top turns round when it stands erect on the ground, the days and nights would be always of the same length twelve hours day and twelve hours night 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; consequently 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 morning 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 circles always at that distance from the Sun, as a top may Those who supposed that the Sun went ronnd the earth every twenty-four hour* made the same mistake, lii Idea, that a cook would do ID fact that ahoiild make the flre go round the meat, instead of the meat luruing round luelf toward* Ui lire. PAJET LJ THE AOK Or REASON. 4ft 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 hun- dred and thirty-four million 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 consequently moves round in a circle greater than that of Mars. The sixth world is Sat- urn ; he is distant from the Sun seven hundred and sixty- three million miles, and consequently moves round in a circle that surrounds the circles, or orbits, of all the other worlds or planets. The space, therefore, in the air, or in the immensity of space, that our solar system takes up for the several worlds to perform their revolutions in round the Sun, is of the extent, in a straight line, of the whole diameter of the orbit or circle in which Saturn moves round the Sun, which, being double his distance from the Sun, is fifteen 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 fire hundred million square miles.* But this, immense as it is, is only one system of worlds. Beyond 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 If It 'herald be asked, Jiow can man know these things? I have one plain answer to give, which is that man knows how to calculate an eclipse, and alto how to calculate to a mlnnte of time when the planet Venus, In making her revo- lutions round Uie 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 surface of the Sun. This happens but twice in about an hundred years, at the distance of about eight years troni each other, and has happened twice in our time, both of which were foreknown by calculation. It can also be known when they will hap- pen again for a thousand years to come, or to any other portion of time. As, therefore, 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 if a proof in point that the knowledge exists ; and, as to a few thousand, or even a few million, mile , more or less, It makes scarcely any sensible dlflerence Ik such 1m- 46 THK AOK OF RKASOX. [PABT L 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 center 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 revolutions, as our system of worlds does round our central Sun. By this easy progression of ideas the immensity of space wiM 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 endeavored 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. It is an idea I have never lost sight of, that all our knowledge of science is derived from the revolutions (ex- hibited to our eye and from thence to our understanding) which those several planets or worlds, of which our system ta composed, make in their circuit round the Sun. Had then the quantity of matter which these six worlds contain been blended into one solitary globe, the conse- quence 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 bene- fits 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, bad been a solitary globe we can discover at least one reason why a plurality of worlds has been made, and that reason calls forth the devotional gratitude of man, M well u his admiration PAKT L] THB AOK OF REASON. 47 But it is not to us, the inhabitants of this globe, only, that the benefits arising from a plurality of worlds are limited. The inhabitants of each of the worlds of which our system is composed, enjoy the same opportunities of knowledge as we do. They behold the revolutionary mo- tions 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, roll- ing or at rest in the immense ocean of space, gives place to the cheerful idea of a society of worlds, so happily con- trived as to administer, even by their motion, instruction to man. We see our own earth filled with abundance ; 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, walking 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 ? In this case, the person who is irrever- ently called the Son of God, and sometimes God himself, 48 THE AGE OF KEASOIf. [ PA JIT U would have nothing else to do than to travel from world to world, in an endless succession of death, with scarcely a momentary interral of life. It has been by rejecting the evidence, that the word or works of God in the creation afford to our senses, and the action of our reason upon that evidence, that so many wild and whimsical systems of faith, and of religion, have been fabricated and set up. There may be many systems of re- ligion, that so far from being morally bad, are in many respects morally good : but there can be but OJTK 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 con- struction of the Christian system of faith, that every evi- dence the Heavens afford to man, either directly contradicts it, or renders it absurd. It is possible to believe, and I always feel pleasure in encouraging 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 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 pre- vailed. 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 ren- dered almost general among the laity, it is next to impossi- ble to account for the continual persecution carried on by the church, for several hundred years, against the sciences, and against the professors of 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 th* evidence that the structure of the universe afforded. PART I.] THE AOE OF REASON. 49 Having thus shown the irreconcilable inconsistencies between the real word of God existing in the universe and that which is called the word 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 man- god. These three means are Mystery, Miracle, and Prophecy. 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 develop itself, and become an oak,. We know not how it is that the seed we sow unfolds and multiplies itself, and re- turns to us such an abundant interest for so small a capital. The fact, however, as distinct from the operating cause, !8 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 neces- sary 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 and performs it for us. We are, therefore, better off than if we had been let into the secret, and left to do it for ourselves. But though every created thing is, in this sense, a mys- tery, the word mystery cannot be applied to moral truth, any more than obscurity can be applied to light. The God in whom we believe is a God of moral truth, and not a God of mystery or obscurity. Mystery is the antagonist of truth. It is a fog of human invention, that obscures truth, and rep- resents it in distortion. Truth never envelops itself in mys- tery; and the mystery in which it is at any time enveloped, is the work of its antagonist, and never of itself. Religion, therefore, being the belief of a God, and the practice of moral truth, cannot have connection with mys- tery. The belief of a God, so far from having anything of mystery in it is of all beliefs the most easy, because it arises to us, as is before observed, out of necessity. And the practice of moral truth, or, in other words, a practical imita- 50 THB AGE Or &KA80N. [PABT L, tion of the moral goodness of God, is no other than our acting toward each other as he acts benignly toward alL We cannot serve God in the manner we serve those who cannot do without such service; and, therefore, the only idea we can have of serving God, is that of contributing to the happiness of the living creation that God has made. This cannot be done by retiring ourselves from the society of the world, and spending a recluse life in selfish devotion. The very nature and design of religion, if I may so ex- press it, prove even to demonstration, that it must be free from every thing of mystery, and unincumbered with every- thing that is mysterious. Keligion, considered as a duty, is incumbent upon every living soul alike, and, therefore, must be on a level to the understanding and comprehension of all. Man does not learn religion as he learns the secrets and mysteries of a trade. He learns the theory of religion by reflection. . It arises out of the action of his own mind upon the things which he sees, or upon what he may happen to hear or to read, and the practice joins itself thereto. When men, whether from policy or pious fraud, set up systems of religion incompatible with the word or works of God in the creation, and not only above, but repugnant to human comprehension, they were under the necessity of inventing or adopting a word that should serve as a bar to all questions, inquiries and speculations. The word mystery answered this purpose; and thus it has happened that reli- gion, which is in itself without mystery, has been corrupted into a fog of mysteries. As mystery answered all general purposes, miracle followed as an occasional auxiliary. The former served to bewilder the mind; the latter to puzzle the senses. The one was the lingo, the other the legerdemain. But before going further into this subject, it will be proper to inquire what is to be understood by a miracle. In the same sense that everything may be said to be a mystery, so also may it be said that everything is a miracle, and that no one thing is a greater miracle than another. The elephant, though larger, is not a greater miracle than a mite; nor a mountain a greater miracle than an atom. To an almighty power, it is no more difficult to make the one tfr^n the other; and no more difficult to make a million of PAST I.] THE AGE OF REASON. 61 worlds than to make one. Everything, therefore, is a miracle in one sense, whilst in the other sense, there is no such thing as a miracle. It is a miracle when compared to our power, and to our comprehension; it is not a miracle compared to the power that performs it; but as nothing in this descrin- tion conveys the idea that is affixed to the word miracle, it is necessary to cany the inquiry further. Mankind have conceived to themselves certain laws, by which what they call nature is supposed to act, and that a miracle is something contrary to the operation and effect of those laws, but unless we know the whole extent of those laws, and of what are commonly called the powers of nature, we are not able to judge whether anything that may appear to us wonderful or miraculous, be within, or be beyond, or be contrary to, her natural power of acting. The ascension of a man several miles high into the air, would have everything in it that constitutes the idea of a miracle, if it were not known that a species of air can be generated several times lighter than the common atmospheric air, and yet possess elasticity enough to prevent the balloon, in which that light air is enclosed, from being compressed into as many times less bulk, by the common air that sur- rounds it. In like manner, extracting flames or sparks of fire from the human body, as visible as from a steel struck with a flint, and causing iron or steel to move without any visible agent, would also give the idea of a miracle, if we were not acquainted with electricity and magnetism; so also would many other experiments in natural philosophy, to those who are not acquainted with the subject. The restoring persona to life, who are to appearance dead, as is practiced upon drowned persons, would also be a miracle, if it were not known that animation is capable of being suspended without being extinct. Besides these, there are performances by slight-of-hand, and by persons acting in concert, that have a miraculous appearance, which, when known, are thought nothing of. And, besides these, there are mechanical and optical decep- tions. There is now an exhibition in Paris of ghosts or spectres, which, though it is not imposed upon the spectators as a fact, has an astonishing appearance. As, therefore, we know not the extent to which either nature or art can go, there is no criterion to determine what a miracle is; an^ 52 THE AGB or KEASOH. [PARTI. mankind, in giving credit to appearance, under the idea of there being miracles, are subject to be continually imposed upon. Since then appearances are so capable of deceiving, and things not real have a strong resemblance to things that are, nothing can be more inconsistent than to suppose that the Almighty would make use of means, such as are called miracles, that would subject the person who performed them to the suspicion of being an imposter, and the person who related them to be suspected of lying, and the doctrine intended to be supported thereby to be suspected as a fabulous invention. Of all the modes of evidence that ever were intended to obtain belief to any system or opinion to which the name of religion has been given, that of miracle, however successful the imposition may have been, is the most inconsistent. For, in the first place, whenever recourse is had to show, for the purpose of procuring that belief, (for a miracle, under any idea of the word, is a show,) it implies a lame- ness or wickedness in the doctrine that is preached. And, in the second place, it is degrading the Almighty into the character of a showman, playing tricks to amuse and make the people stare and wonder. It is also the most equivocal sort of evidence that can be set up, for the belief is not to depend upon the thing called a miracle, but upon the credit of the reporter who says that he saw it ; and, therefore, the thing, were it true, would have no better chance of being believed than if it were a lie. Suppose I were to say that, when I sat down to write this book, a hand presented itself in the air, took up the pen and wrote every word that is herein written ; would anybody believe me ? Certainly they would not. Would they be- lieve me a whit the more if the thing had been a fact? Cer- tainly they would not. Since, then, a real miracle, were it to happen, would be subject to the same fate as the false- hood, the inconsistency becomes the greater of supposing the Almighty would make use of means that would not an- swer the purpose for which they were intended, even if they were real. If we are to suppose a miracle to be something so entirely out of the course of what is called nature that she must go out of that course to accomplish it, and we see an account PART I.J THK AOK OF BSASOH. 68 given of such miracle by the person who said he saw it, it raises a question in the mind very easily decided, which ia, is it more probable that nature should go out of her course, or that a man should tell a lie? We have never seen, in our time, nature go out of her course ; but we have good reason to believe that millions of lies have been told in the same time. It is, therefore, at least millions to one that the re- porter of a miracle tells a lie. The story of the whale swallowing Jonah, though a whale is large enough to do it, borders greatly on the marvelous ; but it would have approached nearer to the idea of miracle if Jonah had swallowed the whale. In this, which may serve for all cases of miracles, the matter would decide itself, as before stated namely, is it more probable that a man should have swallowed a whale or told a lie? But suppose that Jonah had really swallowed the whale, and gone with it in his belly to Nineveh, and, to convince the people th*t it was true, have cast it up in their sight, of the full length and size of a whale, would they not have believed him to have been the devil, instead of a prophet? or, if the whaJe had carried Jonah to Nineveh, and cast him up in the same public manner, would they not have believed the whale to have been the devil, and Jonah one of his imps? The most extraordinary of all the things called miracles related in the New Testament, is that of the devil flying away with Jesus Christ, and carrying him to the top of a high mountain, Mid to the top of the highest pinnacle of the temple, and showing him and promising to him all the king- doms of the world. How happened it that he did not dis- cover America? or, is it only with kingdoms that his sooty highness has any interest? I have too much respect for the moral character of Christ to believe that he told this whale of a miracle himself; neither is it easy to account for what purpose it could have been fabricated, unless it were to impose upon the connois- seurs of miracles, as is sometimes practiced upon the con- noisseurs of Queen Anne's farthings, and collectors of relics and antiquities; or, to render the belief of miracles ridicu- lous by outdoing miracles, as Don Quixote outdid chivalry; or, to embarrass the belief of miracles, by making it doubtful by what power, whether of God or the devil, any- 64 TOT AGB OF REASON. [PART L thing called a miracle was performed. It requires, how- ever, a great deal of faith in the devil to believe this miracle. In every point of view in which those things called mira- cles can be placed and considered, the reality of them is improbable, and their existence unnecessary. They would not, as before observed, answer any useful purpose, even if they were true, for it is more difficult to obtain belief to a miracle than to a principle evidently moral, without any miracle. Moral principle speaks universally for itself. Mira- cle could be but a thing of the moment, and seen but by a few. After this, it requires a transfer of faith from God to man to believe a miracle upon man's report. Instead, therefore, of admitting the recitals of miracles as evidence of any system of religion being true, they ought to be con- sidered as symptoms of its being fabulous. It is necessary to the full and upright character of truth that it rejects the crutch; and it is consistent with the character of fable to seek the aid that truth rejects. Thus much for mystery and miracle. As mystery and miracle took charge of the past and the present, prophecy took charge of the future, and rounded the tenses of faith. It was not sufficient to know what had been done, but what would be done. The supposed prophet was the supposed historian of times to come; and if he happened in shooting with a long bow of a thousand years, to strike within a thousand miles of a mark, the ingenuity of posterity could make it point blank; and if he happened to be directly wrong, it was only to suppose, as in the case of Jonah and Nineveh, that God had repented himself and changed his mind. What a fool do fabulous systems make of man! It has been shown, in a former part of this work, that the original meaning of the words prophet and prophesying has been changed, and that a prophet, in the sense of the word as now used, is a creature of modern invention; and it is owing to this change in the meaning of the words, that the flights and metaphors of the Jewish poets, and phrases and expressions now rendered obscure by our not being acquainted with the local circumstances to which they ap- plied at the time they were used, have been erected into prophecies, and made to bend to explanations, at the will PAT L] THX AOK OF REASON- 56 and whimsical conceits of sectaries, expounders and com- mentators. Everything unintelligible was prophetical, and everything insignificant was typical. A blunder would have served as a prophecy, and 'a dish-clout for a type. If by a prophet we are to suppose a man to whom the Almighty communicated some event that would take place in future, either there were such men, or there were not. If there were, it is consistent to believe that the event so communicated would be told in terms that could be under- stood, and not related in such a loose and obscure manner as to be out of the comprehensions of those that heard it, and so equivocal as to fit almost any circumstance that might happen afterwards. It is conceiving very irrever- ently of the Almighty to suppose be would deal in this jesting manner with mankind; yet all the things called prophecies in the book called the Bible come under this description. But it is with prophecy as it is with miracle: it could not answer the purpose, even if it were real. Those to whom a prophecy should be told could not tell whether the man prophesied or lied, or whether it had been revealed to him, or whether he conceited it; and, if the thing that he prophe- sied, or intended to prophesy, should happen, or something like it, among the multitude of things that are daily hap- pening, nobody could again know whether he foreknew it or guessed at it, or whether it was accidental. A prophet, there- fore, is a character useless and unnecessary; and the safe side of the case is to guard against being imposed upon, by not giving credit to such relations. Upon the whole, mystery, miracle and prophecy are ap- pendages that belong to fabulous, and not to true religion. They are the means by which so many Lo heresl and Lo theres 1 have been spread about the world, and religion been made into a trade. The success of one imposter gave encouragement to another, and the quieting salvo of doing some good by keeping up a pious fraud protected them from remorse. Having now extended the subject to a greater length than I first intended, I shall bring it to a close by abstracting a summary from the whole. First That the idea or belief of a word of God existing in print, or in writing, or in speech, is inconsistent in inself, 50 THE AOK OF KKA8OW. [PAJH L. for reasons already assigned. These reasons, among many others, are the want of an universal language; the mutability of language; the errors to which translations are subject; the possibility of totally suppressing such a word; the prob- ability of altering it, or of fabricatrng the whole, and impos- ing it upon the world. Secondly That the Creation we behold is the real and ever-existing word of God, in which we cannot be deceived. It proclaims his power, it demonstrates his wisdom, it mani- fests his goodness and beneficence. Thirdly That the moral duty of man consists in imitat- ing the moral goodness and beneficence of God manifested in the creation towards all his creatures; that, seeing, as we daily do, the goodness of God to all men, it is an example calling upon all men to practice the same towards each other; and, consequently, that everything of persecution and revenge between man and man, and everything of cruelty to animals, is a violation of moral duty. I trouble not myself about the manner of future exist- ence. I content myself with believing, even to positive con- viction, that the power that gave me existence is able to continue it, in any form and manner he pleases, either with or without this body; and it appears more probable to me that I shall continue to exist hereafter than that I should have had existence, as I now have, before that exist- ence began. It is certain that, in one point, all nations of the earth and all religions agree: all belie vein a God. The things in which they disagree are the redundancies annexed to that belief; and, therefore, if ever a universal religion should prevail, it will not be believing anything new, but in getting rid of re- dundancies, and believing as man believed at first. Adam, if ever there was such a man, was created a Deist ; but, in the meantime, let every man follow, as he has a right to do, the religion and the worship he prefers. PREFACE. I hare mentioned in the former part of The Age of Rea- son, that it had long been my intention to publish my thoughts upon religion ; but that I had originally reserved it to a later period in life, intending it to be the last work I should undertake. The circumstances, however, which existed in France in the later end of the year 1793, deter- mined me to delay it no longer. The just and humane prin- ciples of the revolution which philosophy had first diffused, had been departed from. The idea, always dangerous to society as it is derogatory to the Almighty, that priests could forgive sins, though it seemed to exist no longer, had blunted the feelings of humanity, and prepared men for the commis- sion of all manner of crimes. The intolerant spirit of church persecutions had transferred itself into politics; the tribunal, styled revolutionary, supplied the place of an inquisition; and the guillotine and the stake outdid the fire and the fag- got of the church. I saw many of my most intimate frienoa destroyed ; others daily carried to prison; and I had reason to believe, and had also intimations given me, that the same danger was approaching myself. Under these disadvantages, I began the former part of the Age of Reason; I had, besides, neither Bible nor Testa- ment to refer to, though I was writing against both; nor could I procure any; notwithstanding which I have produced a work that no Bible-believer, though writing at his ease, and with a library of church books about him, can refute. Towards the latter end of December of that year, a motion was made and carried, to exclude foreigners from the con- vention. There were but two in it, Anacharsis Cloots and myself ; and I saw I was particularly pointed at by Bourdon de 1'Oise, in his speech on that motion. Conceiving, after this, that I had but a few days of lib T 48 PKXFAOX. erty, I sat down and brought the work to a close as speedily *s possible; and I had not finished it more than six hours, in the state it has since appeared, before a guard came there about three in the morning, with an order signed by the two committees of public safety and Surety-General, for putting me in arrestation as a foreigner, and conveyed me to the prison of the Luxembourg. I contrived, in my way there, to call on Joel Barlow, and I put the manuscript of the work into his hands, as more safe than in my possession in prison ; and not knowing what might be the fate in France either of the writer or the work, I addressed it to the protec- tion of the citizens of the United States. It is with justice that I say that the guard who executed this order, and the interpreter of the Committee of General Surety, who accompanied them to examine my papers, treated me not only with civility, but with respect. The keeper of the Luxembourg, Bennoit, a man of good heart, showed to me every frienrtsnip in his power, as did also his family, while he continued in that station. He was removed from it, put into arrestation and carried before the tribunal upon a ma- lignant accusation, but acquitted. After I had been in the Luxembourg about three weeks, the Americans, then in Paris, went in a body to the convention, to reclaim me as thp.ir countryman and friend ; but were answered by the President, Vader, who was also President of the Committee of Surety-General, and had signed the order for my arrestation, that I was born in England. I heard no more, after this, from any person out of the walls of the prison, till the fall of Robespierre, on the 9th of Thermidor -July 27, 1794. About two months before this event, I was seized with a fever, that in its progress had every symptom of becoming mortal, and from the effects of which I am not recovered. It was then that I remembered with renewed satisfaction, and congratulated mvself most sincerely on having written the former part of % J he Age of Reason. I had then but little expectation of surviving, and those about me had leas. I know, therefore, by experience, the conscientious trial of toy own principles. I was then with three chamber comrades, Joseph Van- beule, of Bruges, Charles Bastini, and Michael Rubyns, of Louvain. The unceasing and anxious attention of these PBX7AOB. 69 three friends to me by night and by day, I remember with gratitude, and mention with pleasure. It happened that a physician (Dr. Graham) and a surgeon, (Mr. Bond,) part of the suite of General O'Hara, were then in the Lux- embourg. I ask not myself, whether it be convenient to them, as men under the English government, That I express to them my thanks; but I should reproach myself if I did not; and also to the physician of the Luxembourg, Dr. Markoski. I have some reason to believe, because I cannot discover any other cause, that this illness preserved me in existence. Among the papers of Robespierre that were examined and reported upon to the Convention, by a Committee of Depu- ties, is a note in the hand-writing of Robespierre, in the following words: "Demander qne Thomas Paine solt To demand that a decree of accnaa- decrete d'accnsation, poor 1'lnteret da tlon be passed against Thomas Paina 1' Amerique autant qne de la France." for the interest of America, aa well aa of France. From what cause it was that the intention was not put in execution, I know not and cannot inform myself; and therefore I ascribe it to impossibility, on account of that illness. The Convention, to repair as much as lay in their power the injustice I had sustained, invited me publicly and unani- mously to return into the Convention, and which I accepted, to show that I could bear an injury without permitting it to injure my principles or my disposition. It is not because right principles have been violated, that they are to be abandoned. 1 have seen, since I have been at liberty, several publica- tions written, some in America, and some in England, as answers to the former part of " The Age of Reason." If the authors of these can amuse themselves by so doing, I shall not interrupt them. They may write against the work, and against me, as much as they please; they do me more service than they intend, and I can have no objection that they write on. They will find, however, by this second part, without its being written as an answer to them, that they must return to their work, and spin their cobweb over again. The first ia brushed away by accident. They will now find that I have furnished myself with a Bible and a Testament; and I can say also that 1 have found 60 them to be much worse books than I had conceived. If 1 have erred in anything, in the former part of u The Age of Reason," it has been by speaking better of some parts of those books than they have deserved. I observe that all my opponents resort, more or less, to what they call Scripture Evidence and Bible authority, to help them out. They are so little masters of the subject, as to confound a dispute about authenticity with a dispute about doctrines; I will, however, put them right, that if they should be disposed to write any more, they may know how to begin. THOMAS PA INK. THE AGE OF REASON. PART SECOND. It has often been said, that anything may be proved from the Bible, but before anything oan be admitted as proved by the Bible, the Bible itself must be proved to be true ; for if the Bible be not true, or the truth of it be doubtful, it ceases to have authority, and cannot be admitted as proof of anything. It has been the practice of all Christian commentators on the Bible, and of all Christian priests and preachers, to impose the Bible on the world as a mass of truth, and as the word of God ; they have disputed and wrangled and anathe- matized each other about the supposable meaning of particu- lar parts and passages therein ; one has said and insisted that such a passage meant such a thing ; another that it meant directly the contrary ; and a third, that it means neither one nor the other, but something different from both ; and this they call understanding the Bible. It has happened, that all the answers which I have seen to the former part of the Age of Reason have been written by priests ; and these pious men like their predecessors, contend and wrangle, and pretend to understand the Bible; each understands it differently, but each understands it best; and they have agreed in nothing, but in telling their readers that Thomas Paine understands it not. Now instead of wasting their time, and heating themselves in fractious disputations about doctrinal points drawn from the Bible, these men ought to know, and if they do not, it i civility to inform them, that the first thing to be understood is, whether there is sufficient authority for believing the Bible to be the word of God, or whether there is not. There are matters in that book, said to be done by the 1 69 THE A.GB 07 BRASON. [FAST IX. express command of God, that are aa shocking to humanity, and to every idea we have of moral justice, as anything done by Robespierre, by Carrier, by Joseph le Bon, in France, by the English government in the East Indies, or by any other assassin in modern times. When we read in the books ascribed to Moses, Joshua, etc., that they (the Israel- ites) came by stealth upon whole nations of people, who, as the history itself shows, had given them no offense ; that they put all those nations to the sword; that they spared neither age nor infancy ; that thqj utterly destroyed men, women and children ; that they left not a soul to breathe; expressions that are repeated over and over again in those books, and that too with exulting ferocity ; are we sure these things are facts? Are we sure that the Creator of man commissioned these things to be done? Are we sure that the books that tell us so were written by his authority? It is not the antiquity of a tale that is any evidence of its truth ; on the contrary, it is a symptom of its being fabu- lous ; for the more ancient any history pretends to be, the more it has the resemblance of a fable. The origin of every nation is buried in fabulous tradition, and that of the Jews is as much to be suspected as any other. To charge the commission of acts upon the Almighty, which in their own nature, and by every rule of moral justice, are crimes as all assassination is, and more especially the assassination of infants, is matter of serious concern. The Bible tells us, that those assassinations were done by the exprest command of God. To believe, therefore, the Bible to be true, we must unbelieve all our belief in the moral justice of God ; for wherein could crying or smiling infants offend? And to read the Bible without horror, we must undo everything that is tender, sympathizing, and benevolent in the heart of man. Speaking for myself, if I had no other evidence that the Bible was fabulous, than the sacrifice I must make to believe it to be true, that alone would be sufficient to deter- mine my choice. But in addition to all the moral evidence against the Bible, I will in the progress of this work produce such oth- er evidence, as even a priest cannot deny ; and show, from that evidence, that the Bible is not entitled to credit, as being the word of God. But, before I proceed to this examination, I will show PART n.] THE AGE OF REASON. 63 wherein the Bible differs from all other ancient writings with respect to the nature of the evidence necessary to establish its authenticity ; and this is more proper to be done, because the advocates of the Bible, in their answers to the former part of the Age of Reason, undertake to say, and they put some stress thereon, that the authenticity of the Bible is as well established as that of any other ancient book ; as if our belief of the one could become any rule for our belief of the other. I know, however, but of one ancient book that authorita- tively challenges universal consent and belief, and that is Euclid's Elements of Geometry;* and the reason is, because it is a book of self-evident demonstration, entirely indepen- dent of its author, and of everything relating to time, place and circumstance. The matters contained in that book would have the same authority they now have, had they been written by any other person, or had the work been anonymous, or had the author never been known ; for the identical certainty of who was the author, makes no part of our belief of the matters contained in the book. But it is quite otherwise with respect to books ascribed to Moses, to Joshua, to Samuel, &c. Those are books of testimony, and they testify of things naturally incredible ; and, therefore, the whole of our belief, as to the authenticity of those books, rests, in the first place, upon the certainty that they were written by Moses, Joshua, and Samuel ; secondly, upon the credit we give to their testimony. We may believe the first, that is, we may believe the certainty of the author- ship, and yet not the testimony, in the same manner that we may believe that a certain person gave evidence upon a case and yet not believe the evidence that he gave. But ii it should be found, that the books ascribed to Moses, Joshua, and Samuel, were not written by Moses, Joshua, and Samuel, every part of the authority and authenticity of those books is gone at once ; for there can be no such thing as forged or invented testimony ; neither can there be anonymous testimony, more especially as to things nat- urally incredible, such as that of talking with God face to face, or that of the sun and moon standing still at the Euclid, according to chronological history, lived three hundred yean before Christ, and about one hundred before Archimede*; he wu of the city of Alexan- dria, in Egypt. 64 THE AGE OF REASON. [PAKT 1L command of a man. The greater part of the other ancient books are works of genius ; of which kind are those ascribed to Homer, to Plato, to Aristotle, to Demosthenes, to Cicero, &c. Here again the author is not essential in the credit we give to any of those works ; for, as works of genius, they would have the same merit they have now, were they anonymous. Nobody believes the Trojan story, as related by Homer, to be true, for it is the poet only that is admired ; and the merit of the poet will remain, though the story be fabulous. But, if we disbelieve the matters related by the Bible authors, (Moses for instance,) as we dis- believe the things related by Homer, there remains nothing of Moses, in our estimation, but an imposter. As to the ancient historians, from Herodotus to Tacitus, we credit them as far as they relate things probable and credible, and no further ; for, if we do, we must believe the two miracles which Tacitus relates were performed by Vespasian that of curing a lame man, and a blind man, in just the same manner as the same things are told of Jesus Christ by his historians. We must also believe the miracles cited by Josephus that of the sea of Pamphilia opening to let Alexander arid his army pass, as is related of the Red Sea : n Exodus. These miracles are quite as well authenticated AS the Bible miracles, and yet we do not believe them ; con- sequently the degree of evidence necessary to establish our belief of things naturally incredible, whether 'n the Bible or elsewhere, is far greater than that which obtains our belief to natural and probable things ; and, therefore, the advocates for the Bible have no claim to our belief of the Bible, because that we believe things stated in other ancient writings; since we believe the things stated in these writings no further than they are probable and credible, or because they are self-evident, like Euclid ; or admire them because they are elegant, like Homer ; or approve them because they are sedate, like Plato ; or judicious, like Aristotle. Having premised these things, I proceed to examine the authenticity of the Bible, and I begin with what are called the five books of Moses, Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Num- bers, and Deuteronomy. My intention is to show that those books are spurious, and that Moses is not the author of them ; and still further, that they were not written in the time of Mosea, nor till several hundred years afterwards ; TAJCT II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 65 that they are no other than an attempted history of the life of Moses, and of the times in which he is said to have lived, arid also of the times prior thereto, written by some very ignorant and stupid pretenders to authorship, several hundred years after the death of Moses, as men now write histories of things that happened, or are supposed to have happened, several hundred or several thousand years ago. The evidence that I shall produce in this case is from the books themselves, and I will confine myself to this evidence only. Were I to refer for proof to any of the ancient authors whom the advocates of the Bible call profane authors, they would controvert that authority as I controvert theirs; I will, therefore, meet them on their own ground, and oppose them with their own weapon, the Bible. In the first place, there is no affirmative evidence that Moses is the author of those books; and that he is the author is altogether an unfounded opinion, got abroad nobody knows how. The style and manner in which those books are writ- ten give no room to believe, or even to suppose, they were written by Moses; for it is altogether the style and manner of another person speaking of Moses. In Exodus, Leviti- cus and Numbers, (for everything in Genesis is prior to the times of Moses, and not the least' allusion is made to him therein,) the whole, I say, of these books is in the third per- son; it is always, t,he Lord said unto Moses, or Moses said unto the Lord; or Moses said unto the people, or the peoplt said unto Moses; and this is the style and manner that his- torians use in speaking of the person whose lives and actions they are writing. It may be said that a man may speak of himself in the third person, and, therefore, it may be sup- posed that Moses did; but supposition proves nothing, and, if the advocates for the belief that Moses wrote those books himself have nothing better to advance than supposition, they may as well be silent. But, granting the grammatical right that Moses might speak of himself in the third person, because any man might speak of himself in that manner, it cannot be admitted as a fact in those books that it is Moses who speaks without ren- dering Moses truly ridiculous and absurd. For example, Numbers, chap, xii., ver. 3: " Now the man Moses was very meek, above all men which were on the face of the earth. If Moses said this of himself, instead of being the meekest 66 THE AGE OF BEASON. [PAXT II. of men he was one of the most vain and arrogant of cox- combs; and the advocates for those books may now take which side they please, for both sides are against them; if Moses was not the author, the books are without authority; and if he was the author, the author was without credit, be- cause to boast of meekness is the reverse of meekness, and is a lie in tentiment. In Deuteronomy, the style and manner of writing marks more evidently than in the former books that Moses is not the writer. The manner here used is dramatical: the writer opens the subject by a short introductory discourse, and then introduces Moses in the act of speaking, and, when he has made Moses finish his harangue, he (the writer) resumes his own part, and speaks till he brings Moses forward again, and at last closes the scene with an account of the death, funeral and character of Moses. This interchange of speakers occurs four times in this book: from the first verse of the first chapter to the end of the fifth verse it is the writer who speaks; he then introduces Moses as in the act of making his harangue, and this con- tinues to the end of the fortieth verse of the fourth chapter; here the writer drops Moses, and speaks historically of what was done in consequence of what Moses, when living, is sup- posed to have said, and which the writer has dramatically rehearsed. The writer opens the subject again hi the first verse of the fifth chapter, though it is only by saying that Moses called the people of Israel together; he then introduces Moses as before, and continues him, as in the act of speak- ing, to the end of the 26th chapter. He does the same thing at the beginning of the 27th chapter; and continues Moses, as in the act of speaking, to the end of the 28th chapter. At the 29th chapter the writer speaks again, through the whole of the first verse and the first line of the econd verse, where he introduces Moses for the last time, and continues him, as in the act of speaking, to the end of the 33d chapter. The writer having now finished the rehearsal on the part of Moses, comes forward and speaks through the whole of the last chapter. He begins by telling the reader that Moses went up to the top of Pisgah; that he saw from thence the Und which (the writer says) had been promised to Abraham, PABT n.] THE AGE OF KEABOH. 67 Isaac and Jacob; that he, Moses, died there, in the land of Moab, but that no man knoweth of his sepulcher unto this day that is, unto the time in which the writer lived who wrote the book of Deuteronomy. The writer then tells us that Moses was 110 years of age when he died; that his eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated; and he concludes by saying that there arose not a prophet since in Israel like unto Moses, whom, says this anonymous writer, the Lord knew face to face. Having thus shown, as far as grammatical evidence applies, that Moses was not the writer of those hooks, I will, after making a few observations on the inconsistencies of the writer of the book of Deuteronomv, proceed to show, from the historical and chronological evidence contained in those books, that Moses, was not, because he could not fo, the writer of them; and consequently, that there is no authority for believing, that the inhuman and horrid butch- eries of men, women, and children, told in those books, were done, as those books say they were, at the command of God. It a duty incumbent on every true Deist, that he vindicate the moral justice of God against the calumnies of the Bible. The writer of the book of Deuteronomy, whoever he was, (for it is an anonymous work,) is obscure, and also in contradiction with himself, in the account he has given of Moses. After telling that Moses went to the top of Pisgah (and it does not appear from any account that he ever came down again) he tells us, that Moses died there in the land of Moab, and that he buried him in a valley in the land of Moab; but as there is no antecedent to the pronoun he, there is no knowing who he was that did bury him. If the writer meant that he (God) buried him, how should he (the writer) know it? or why should we (the readers) believe him? since we know not who the writer was that tells us so, for certainly Moses could not himself tell where he was buried. The writer also tells us, that no man knoweth where the sepulcher of Moses is unto this day, meaning the time in which this writer lived; how then should he know that Moses was buried in a valley in the land of Moab? for as the writer lived long after the time of Moses, as is evident from hia using the expression of unto this day, meaning a great length of time after the death of Moses, he certainly was not at hia 68 THE AGE OF BEA8ON. [PAKT H. funeral; and on the other hand, it is impossible that Moses himself COD Id say, that no man knoweth where the sepulcher is unto thit day. To make Moses the speaker would be an improvement on the play of a child that hides himself and cries, Nobody can find me; nobody can find Moses. This writer has nowhere told us how he came by the speeches which he has put into the mouth of Moses to speak, and, therefore, we have a right to conclude, that he either composed them himself, or wrote them from oral tradition. One or the other of these is the more probable, since he has given, in the fifth chapter, a table of commandments, in which that called the fourth commandment is different from the fourth commandment in the twentieth chapter of Exodus. In that of Exodus, the reason given for-keeping the seventh day is, " because (says the commandment) God made the heavens and earth in six days, and rested on the seventh;" but in that of Deuteronomy, the reason given is, that it was the day on which the children of Isral came out of Egypt, and therefore, says this commandment, the Lord thy God commanded thee to keep the sabbath-day. This makes no mention of the creation, nor that of the coming out of Egypt. There are also many things given as laws of Moses in this book, that are not to be found in any of the other books; among which is that inhuman and brutal law, chap. xxi. ver. 18, 19, 20, 21, which authorizes parents, the father and the mother, to bring their own children to have them stoned to death for what it is pleased to call stubbornness. But priests have always been fond of preaching up Deuteronomy, for Deuteronomy preaches up tithes; and it is from this book, chap. xxv. ver. 4, they have taken the phrase, and applied it to tithing, that thou shalt not muzzle the ox when he treadeth out the corn; and that this might not escape observation, they have noted it in the table of contents at the head of the chapter, though it is only a single verse of less than two lines. O! priests! priests! ye are willing to be compared to an ox, for the sake of tithes. Though it is impossible for us to know identically who the writer of Deuteronomy was, it is not difficult to discover him professionally, that he was some Jewish priest, who lived, as I shall show in the course of this work, at least three hundred and fifty years after the time of Moses. I oome now to speak of the historical and chronological FART II.] THB AGB OF SEASON. 69 evidence. The chronology that I shall use is the Bible chronology; for I mean not to go out of the Bible for evidence of anything, but to make the Bible itself prove historically and chronologically, that Moses is not the author of the books ascribed to him. It is, therefore, proper that I inform the reader, (such an one at least as may not have the opportunity of knowing it,) that in the larger Bibles, and also in some smaller ones, there is a series of chronology printed in the margin of every page, for the purpose of showing how long the historical matters stated in each page happened, or are supposed to have hap- pened, before Christ, and, consequently, the distance of time between one historical circumstance and another. I began with the book of Genesis. In the 14th chapter of Genesis, 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 of pursuing them unto Dan applies to the case in question, I will refer to two circumstances, the one in America, the other in France. The city now called New York, in America, was originally New Amsterdam; 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 written before, and must have been written after New Amsterdam 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 consequently 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 70 THE AGE OF REASON. [PAET H- 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 grandson of Abraham. To establish this in proof, it is necessary to refer from Genesis to the 18th chapter of the book called the Book of Judges. It is there said (ver. 27) that they (the Danites) came unto Laish to a people that were quiet and secure, ana they smote them with the edge of the sword (the Bible is filled with murder) and burned the city with fire ; and they built a city, (ver. 28,) and dwelt therein, and they called the name of the city Dan, after the name of Dan, their father, howbeit 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 im- mediately after the death of Samson. The death of Sam- son is said to have happened 1120 years before Christ, and that of Moses 1451 before Christ, and, therefore, according to the historical arrangement, 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 hows the uncertain and fabulous state of the Bible. Ac- cording to the chronological 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 state- ments, 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 was nobody knows ; and con- PAJCT II.] THE AGE OF BEA8OH. 71 sequently the Book of Genesis is anonymous and without authority. I proceed now to state another point of historical and chronological 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 and descendants of Esau, who are called Edom- ites, and also a list, by name, of the kings of Edom ; in enu- merating of which, it is said, verse 31, " And these are the kings that reigned in Edom, before there reigned any king over the children of Israel" Now, were any dateless writings to be found, in which, speaking of any past events, the writer should say, these things happened 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 in 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 coun- try, or a Convention in the other. Nothing is more frequent, as well in history as in conver- sation, than to refer to a fact in the room of a date : it is most natural so to do, because a fact fixes itself in the mem- ory 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 circumstances implies as positively that the fact alluded to is past, as if it was so expressed. When a person speaking upon any matter, 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 absolute- ly 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 I have quoted " that these are the kings that reigned in Edom, before there reigned ~wy kintf over the children of Israel," could only have been 79 TELK AOE OF REASON [PAICT Q. 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 pas- sage ; but the expression, any king, implies 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 professed 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 Chronicles, which gave a history of all the kings of Israel, are professedly, as well as in fact, written after the Jewish monarchy began ; 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 chapter 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 Edom, 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 Genesis is not so old as Chronicles, and probably not so old as the book of Homer, or as ^Esop's Fables, admitting Homer to have been, as the tables of chronology state, contemporary with David or Solomon, and ^Esop to have lived about the end of the 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, without the merit of being entertaining ; and the account of men living to eight and nine hundred years becomes as fabulous as the immortality or cue giants of the Mythology. FABT II.] THK AGE OF REASON. 78 Besides, the character of Moses, as stated in the Bible, ia 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 pretense, 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 state only one instance. When the Jewish army returned from one of their mur- dering and plundering excursions, the account goes on as follows, Numbers, chap. xxxi. ver. 13 : -s " 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 over thousands, and captains over hun- dreds, which came from the battle ; and Moses said unto them, Have ye saved all the women 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 congregation of the Lord. Now, therefore, kill every male among the little ones, and kill every woman that hath known a man by lying with him; but all the women-children that have not known a man by > lying with him keep alive for yourselves. 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 daugh- ter 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 reli- gion. After this detestable order follows an account of the plunder taken, and the manner of dividing it ; and here it is that the profaneness 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 74 THE AGE OF REASON. [FAST n. the beeves was thirty and six thousand, of which the LorcT tribute was threescore and twelve ; and the asses were thirty thousand, of which the Lord's tribute was three- score and one ; and the persons were thirty thousand, of which the Lord's tribute was thirty and two." In short, the matters contained in this chapter, as well as in many other parts of the Bible, are too horrid for humanity to read, or for decency to hear ; for it appears, from the 35th verse of this chapter, that the number of women-children consigned to debauchery by the order of Moses was thirty-two thou- sand. People in general know not what wickedness there is in this pretended word of God. Brought up in habits of super- stition, they take it for granted that the Bible is true, and that it is good ; they permit themselves not to doubt of it, and they carry the ideas they form of the benevolence of the Almighty to the book which they have been taught to believe was written by his authority. Good heavens ! it is quite another thing ; it is a book of lies, wickedness, and blasphemy ; for what can be greater blasphemy, than to ascribe the wickedness of man to the orders of the Al- mighty? But to return to my subject, that of showing that Moses is not the author of the books ascribed to him, and that the Bible is spurious. The two instances I have already given would be sufficient, without any additional evidence, to in- validate the authenticity of any book that pretended to be four or five hundred years more ancient than the matters it speaks of, or refers to, as facts ; for in the case of pursuing them unto Dan, and of the kings that reigned over the chil- dren of Israel, not even the flimsy pretense of prophecy can be pleaded. The expressions are in the preter tense, and it would be downright idiotism to say that a man could prophesy in the preter tense. But there are many other passages scattered throughout those books that unite in the same point of evidence. It is said in Exodus, (another of the books ascribed to Moses,) chap, xvi., verse 34, " And the children of Israel did eat man- na until they came to a land inhabited / they did eat manna until they came unto the borders of the land of Canaan. Whether the children of Israel ate manna or not, or what manna was, or whether it wa anything more than a kind of PAET II.] THE AQB OF SEASON. 75 fungus or small mushroom, or other vegetable substance common to that part of the country, makes nothing to my argument; all that I mean to show is, that it is not Moses that could write this account, because the account extends itself beyond the life and time of Moses. Moses, according to the Bible, (but it is such a book of lies and contradictions there is no knowing which part to believe, or whether any,) dies in the wilderness, and never came upon the borders of the land of Canaan ; and, consequently, it could not hje he that said what the children of Israel did, or what they ate when they came there. This account of eating manna, which they tell us was written by Moses, extends itself to the time of Joshua, the successor of Moses, as appears by the account given in the book of Joshua, after the children of Israel had passed the river Jordan, and came unto the borders of the land of Canaan. Joshua, chap. v. verse 12. ''And the man- na ceased on the morrow, after they had eaten of the old corn of the land ; neither had the children of Israel manna any more, but they did eat of the fruit of the land of Canaan that year.' 1 But a more remarkable instance than this occurs in Deu- teronomy ; which, while it shows that Moses could not be the writer of that book, shows also the fabulous notions that prevailed at that time about giants. In the third chapter of Deuteronomy, among the conquests said to be made by Moses, is an account of the taking of Og, king of Bashan, ver. 11: " For only Og, king of Bashan, remained of the race of giants; behold, his bedstead was a bedstead of iron; is it not in Rabbath of the children of Ammon ? nine cubits was the length thereof, and four cubits the breadth of it, after the cubit of a man." A cubit is 1 foot 9-8S81000ths inches; the length, therefore, of the bed was 16 feet 4 inches, and the breadth 7 feet 4 inches; thus much, for this giant's bed. Now for the historical part, which, though the evidence is not so direct and positive, as in the former cases, it is never- theless very presumable and corroborating evidence, and is better than the best evidence on the contrary side. The writer, by way of proving the existence of this giant, refers to his bed, as an ancient relic, and says, is it not in Rabbath (or Rabbah) of the children of Ammon ? meaning that it is; for such is frequently the Bible method of affirm- ing a thing. But it could not be Moses that said this, because 76 THE AOK OF BEA8OU. [PART n. Moses could know nothing about Rabbah, nor of what was in it. Rabbah was not a city belonging to this giant king, nor was it one of the cities that Moses took. The knowledge, there- fore, that this bed was at Rabbah, and of the particulars of its dimensions, must be referred to the time when Rabbah was taken, and this was not till four hundred years after the death of Moses; for which, see 2 Sam., chap, xii., ver. 26: " And Joab (David's general) fought against Rabbah of the chil- dren of ^mrnon, and took the royal city." As I am not undertaking to point out all the contradic- tions in time, place and circumstance, that abound in the books ascribed to Moses, and which prove to a demonstration that those books could not be written by Moses, nor in the time of Moses, I proceed to the book of Joshua, and to show that Joshua is not the author of that book, and that it is anonymous and without authority. The evidence I shall produce is contained in the book itself; I will not go out of the Bible for proof against the supposed authenticity of the Bible. False testimony is always good against itself. Joshua, according to the first chapter of Joshua, was the immediate successor of Moses ; he was, moreover, a military man, which Moses was not, and he continued as chief of the people of Israel 25 years ; that is, from the time Moses died, which, according to the Bible chronology, was 1451 years before Christ, until 1426 years before Christ, when, accord- ing to the same chronology, Joshua died. If, therefore, we find in this book, said to have been written by Joshua, refer- ence to facts done after the death of Joshua, it is evidence that Joshua could not be the author ; and also that the book could not have been written till after the time of the latest fact which it records. As to the character of the book, it is horrid ; it is a military history of rapine and murder, as savage and brutal as those recorded of his predecessor in villainy and hypocrisy, Moses ; and the blasphemy consists, as in the former books, in ascribing those deeds to the order of the Almighty. In the first place, the book of Joshua, as is the case in the preceding books, is written in the third person ; it is the historian of Joshua that speaks, for it would have been ab- surd and vain-glorious that Joshua should say of himself, as is said of him in the last verse of the sixth chapter, that **Aw fame was noised throughout all the country" I now oomo more immediately to the proof. FA_KT II. J THE AGE OF SEASON. 77 In the 24th chapter, ver. 31, i* is said, " that Israel served the Lord all the days of Joshua, and all the days of tht elders that overlived Joshua" Now, in the name of com- mon sense, can it be Joshua that relates what people had done after he was dead ? This account must not only have been wriiten by some historian that lived after Joshua, but that lived also after the elders that outlived 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 dis- tance from the time of Joshua, but without marking by exclu- sion any particular time, as in the passage above quoted. In that passage, the time that intervened between the death of Joshua and the death of the elders is excluded descrip- tively and absolutely, and the evidence substantiates 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 dys of Joshua than is 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 that 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 ia not a nation in the world that knows any- thing about it. But why must the moon stand still? What occasion could there be for moonlight in the daytime, and that too while the sun shined? As a poetical figure, the whole is well enough; it is akin to that in the song of Deborah and Barak, The stars in their courses fought against Sisera; but it is inferior to the figurative declaration of Mahomet to the persons who came to expostulate with him 78 THE AGE OF BBA8ON. [PABT n. on his goin 42, 130 M, 808 aO, 668 11,177 W.T8S 11,444 Total, 28,818 92 THK AOK OF KEA8ON. [PAJBT O. But, whoever will take the trouble of casting up the sev- eral 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 anything? Nehemiah, in like manner, gives a list of the returned families, and of the number of each family. He begins, as in Ezra, by saying, chap, vii., ver. 8: "The children of Pa- rosh, two thousand three hundred and seventy- two"; and so on through all the families. 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 particulars of this list make a total of but 31,089, so that the error here is 11,271. These writers may do well enough for Bible- makers, but not for anything where truth and exactness is necessary. The next book in course is the book of Esther. If Madam Esther thought it any honor to offer herself as a kept mistress to Ahasuerus, 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 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 inking under and struggling against the pressure. It is a highly-wrought composition, between willing submission and involuntary discontent; and shows man, as he some- times 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, hia grief is often impetuous, but he still endeavors to keep a guard upon it, and seems determined, in the midst of accu- mulating ills, to impose upon himself the hard duty of con- tentment. I have spoken in a respectful manner of th book of Job /"/.-wuian of Ou famUle* fro** th* teeond c/iaptir of * PJLBT II.] THE AGK OF BEA8OH. 93 in the former part of the Aye of Reason, but without know- ing, 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, Abenezra and Spinoza, upon this subject; they both say that the book of Job carries no internal evidence of being a 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 ws vrentile; that the character rep- resented 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 convoca- tions 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 mini 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 anything in the books known to be Hebrew. The astronomical names, Pleiades, Orion, and Arcturus, are Greek and not Hebrew names, and it does not appear from anything that is to be found in the Bible, that the Jews knew anything of astron- omy, or that they studied it; they had no translation 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 Gentile 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, The word of king Lemuel, the prophecy which 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 thay cannot give any account who the author of the book of Job was, or how they came 94 THE AGE OF BKASOH. [PABT O. 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 chro- nologists, appear to have been at a loss where to place or how to dispose of the book of Job; for it contains no one historical circumstance, nor allusion to any, that might serve to determine its place in the Bib.f* But it would not have answered the purpose of these men to ua,ve informed the world of their ignorance; and, therefore, they have affixed it to the aera 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 Bible; and it is the only one that can be read without indig- nation or disgust. We know nothing of what the ancient Gentile world (aa 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 whoso profession of faith we 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 statuary and by painting; but it does not follow from this, that they worshiped them any more than we do. I pass on to the book of The prayer known by the name of Agvr't Prayer. In the 80th chapter of Proverbs, immediately preceding the proverbs of Lemuel, and which is the only ensible, 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 occur* 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 SOth chapter says, "The words of Agur, the son of Jakeh, even the prophecy;" here the word prophecy is used with the same application it has in the following chapter of Lemuel, unconnected with anything of prediction. The prayer of Agnr in In the 8th and 9th verses, " Remove far from me vanity and liet ; give me neither ticket nor poverty, but feed me with food' convenient for me; lest I be full and deny thee, and lay, Who it the Lord? or lett I be poor and iteal, and tak the nam* of my God in rain." This has not any of the marks ol being a Jewish prayer, for the Jews never piapd but wher they were in trouble, and never for anything but victory, vengeance and riches. PAST n.J THE AGE OF BEASON. 95 Psalms, of which it is not necessary to make much ob- servation. Some of them are moral, and others are very revengeful; and the greater part relate 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 was 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 down; yea, we wept when toe remembered Zion. We hanged our harps upon the wil- lows, in the midst thereof- for there they that had carried us away captive required of us a&ong, 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 of your French songs, or of 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 of persons have been affixed to the several books, which it was as impossible they should write, as that a man should walk in procession at his own funeral. The Book of Proverbs. These, like the Psalms, are a collection, and that from authors belonging to other nations than those of the Jewish nation, as I have shown in the ob- servations upon the book of Job; besides which, some of the proverbs ascribed to Solomon did not appear till two hun- dred 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 Hezekiah, 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 puta- tive father of things he never said or did ; and this, most probably, has been the case with Solomon. It appears to nave 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 96 THE AGE OF REASON. [pAKT U. The book of Ecclesiastea, or the Preacher, is also ascribed to Solomon, and that with much reason, if not with truth. It is written 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, All is vanity I 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, disso- lute, 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 ap- pearance 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 pretensions to wisdom, discover it beforehand, he merited, unpitied, the mortification he after- wards endured. In this point of view, his preaching is un- necessary, 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 ourselves 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 man of pleasure is miserable in old age ; and the mere drudge in business is but little better; whereas, natural philosophy, mathematical and mechanical science, are a con- tinual 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 admire the Creator, for the principles of science are in creation, and are unchangeable, 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 gray, was always his mistress. He was PART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 97 never without an object, for when we cease to have an object, we become like an invalid in an hospital waiting for death. Solomon's Songs are amorous and foolish enough, but which wrinkled fanaticism has called divine. The compilers of the Bible have placed these songs after the book of Eccle- siastes ; and the chronologists have affixed to them the sera of 1014 years before Christ, at which time Solomon, accord- ing to the same chronology, was nineteen years of age, and was then forming his seraglio of wives and concubines. The Bible-makers and the chronologists should have man- aged this matter a little better, and either have said nothing about the time, or chosen a time less inconsistent with the supposed divinity of those songs ; for Solomon was then in the honeymoon 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 vex- ation of spirit ; that he included those songs in that descrip- tion. This is the more probable, because he says, or some- body for him, Ecclesiastes, chap, ii.: v. 8: " I got me men singers and women singer* (most probably to sing those songs), and musical instruments of all sort*; and behold (v. 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 num- ber, beginning 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 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 compositions ever put together; it has neither beginning, middle, nor end; and, except a short historical 98 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART n. 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 transla- tion) that kind of composition and false taste that is properly called prose run mad. The historical part begins at the 36th chap., and is con- tinued to the end of the 39th chap. It relates to some matters that are said to have passed during the reign of Hez- ekiah, King of Judah, at which time Isaiah lived. This frag- ment of history begins and ends abruptly; it has not the least connection with 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 fragment himself, because he was an actor in the circumstances it treats of; but, except this part, there are scarcely two chapters that have any con- nection with each other; one is entitled, at the beginning of the first verse, the burden of Baby Ion; another, the burden of Moab; another, the burden of Damascus; another, the bur- den of Egypt; another, the burden of the Desert 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 Cinderella, or the Children of the Wood, etc., etc. 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 by Isaiah, could only have been written by some person who lived at least an hundred and fifty years after Isaiah was dead. These chapters are a compliment to Oyrus, who permitted the Jews to return to Jerusalem from the Babylonian cap- tivity, 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 PART n.] THE AGE OF SEASON. 99 Cyrus, he is my shepherd, and shall perform all my pleasure; even saying to Jerusalem, thou shall be built; and to the temple thy foundations shall be laid; thus saith the Lord to his anointed, to Cyrus, whose right hand I have holden to subdue nations before him, and I will loose the loint of kings to open before him the two-leaved gates, and the gate* shall not be shut; I will go before thee," etc. What audacity of church and priestly ignorance it is to impose this book upon the world as the writing of Isaiah, when Isaiah, according to their own chronology, died soon after the death of Hezekiah, which was 698 years before Christ; and the decree of Cyrus, in favor of the Jews re- turning to Jerusalem was, according to the same chronology, 536 years before Christ; which was a distance of time be- tween the two of 162 years. I do not suppose that the com- pilers of the Bible made these books, but rather that they picked up some loose anonymous essays, and put them together under the names of such authors as best suited their purpose. 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 making every part of this romantic book of school-boy'i 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 barbar- ous hand of superstitious torture, and forced into meanings it was impossible they could have. The head of every chapter, 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 ton, Isaiah, chap. vii. ver. 14, has been interpreted to mean the person called Jesus Christ, and his mother Mary, and has been echoed through Christendom 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 with blood and marked with desolation in consequence of it. Though it is not my inten- tion to enter into controversy on subjects of this kind, but to confine myself to show that the Bible is spurious; and thus, by taking away the foundation, to overthrow at once 100 THE AGE OF REASON. [PAKT IL me 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 pas- sage, 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 mentioned 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 toward Jerusalem. Ahaz and his people became alarmed, and account says, verse 2, u Their hearts were moved as the trees of the wood are moved with the wind." 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. 44, " Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign; behold a virgin shall conceive and bear 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 abhorrest 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 neces- sary 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 beforehand; for I do not suppose the prophets of that day were any more to be trusted than the priests of this, be that, however, as it may, b* iayt in the next chapter, ver. 2, " And I took unto me PABT H.] THE AGE OP REASON. 101 faithful witnesses to record, Uriah the priest, and Zechariah the son of Jeberechiah, and I 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 barefaced perversion of this story, that the book of Matthew, and the impudence and sordid interest of priests in later times, have founded a theory which they call the gospel; and have applied this story to signify the person they call Jesus Christ, begotten, they say, by a ghost, whom they call holy, on the body of a woman, engaged in marriage, and afterwards married, whom they call a virgin, 700 years after this foolish 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 in the book of Isaiah, ia related in the 28th chapter of the second Chronicles; and which is, that instead of these two kings failing in their at- tempt against Ahaz, king of Judah, as Isaiah had pretended to foretell in the name of the Lord, they succeeded; Ahaz waa defeated and destroyed ; a hundred and twenty thousand of his people were slaughtered ; Jerusalem was plundered, and two hundred thousand women, and sons and daughters, car- ried into captivity. Thus much for this lying prophet 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 that 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. Everything relating to Jeremiah shows him to have been a man of an equivocal character : in his metaphor of the potter and the clay, chap, xvii., 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 7th and 8th verses of that chapter, he makes the Almighty to say, " At what instant I shall speak concerning In the 14th ycree of the 7th chapter, It is said, that the child should be called Immanuol ; but this name was not given to either of the children, otherwise than as a character which the word ignifle*. That of the propheteaa was called Maher-haial-ba8h bax, aud that of Mary was called Jesus. 102 THE AGB OF BBA8ON. [FUST II. 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 concern- ing 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 his plan of prophesying, 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 pas- sages recorded therein may have been spoken by Jeremiah, he is not the author 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 diiFerent, and sometimes 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 anew, and ends abruptly. The book has all the appearance of being a medley of uncon- nected anecdotes, respecting persons and things of that time, collected together in the same rude manner as if the various and contradictory accounts, that are to be found in a bundle of newspapers, respecting persons and things of the present day, were put together without date, order, or explanation. I will give two or three examples 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 siege, and retreated for a time. It may here be proper to mention, in order to understand this confused history, that Nebuchadnezzar had besieged and taken Jerusalem, during the reign of Jehoakim, the prede- cessor of Zedekiah ; and that it was Nebuchadnezzar who had made Zedekiah king, or rather viceroy ; and that this PABTII.] THE AGE OF REASON. 103 second siege, of which the book of Jeremiah treats, was in consequence of the revolt of Zedekiah against Nebuchad- nezzar. 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 13d chap., ver. 10, the servant of God. The llth 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 Benjamin, 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 fallest away to the Chaldeans ; then Jeremiah said, It is false, I fall not away lo the Chaldeans." Jeremiah being thus stopped and accused, was, after being examined, committed to prison, on suspicion of being a traitor, where he remained, as is stated in the last verse of this chapter. But the next chapter gives an account of the imprison- ment of Jeremiah, which has no connection with this account, but ascribes his imprisonment to another circum- stance, and for which we must go back to the 21st chapter. It is there stated, ver. 1, that Zedekiah sent Pashur, the son of Malchiah, and Zephaniah, the son of Maaseiah, the priest, to Jeremiah to inquire of him concerning Nebuchadnezzar, whose army was then before Jerusalem; 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 m this city shall die by the sword, and by the famine, and by the pestilence; but he thatgoeth out and falleth to the Chal- deans 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 various subjects, in order to come at the continuation and event of this conference; and this brings us to the first verse of the 38th chapter, as I have just men- tioned. The 38th chapter opens with saying: " Then Shapatiah, the son of Mattan; Gedaliah, the son of Pashur, and Jucal, 104 THE AOB OF EEAflON. [PABT O. the son of 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, say- ing, Thus aaith the Lord, He that remaineth in this city thall die by the sword, by the famine, and by the pestilence; but he that goeth forth to the Chaldeans shall live; for he hall have Aw 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, for thus he weakeneth the hands of the men of war that remain in this city, and the hands of all the people in speaking such words unto them; for this man seeketh not the welfare of the people, but 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 city by Nebuchadnezzar has been the sub- I observed two chapters, 18th and 17th, in the flret book of Samuel, that contra- dict each other wit!) recpect to David, and the manner he became acquainted with Saul; as the 87th and 38th chapters of the book of Jeremiah contradict each other with respect to the cause of Jeremiah's imprisonment. In the 16th chapter of Samuel It is said that an evil spirit of God troubled Saal, And that Ms servants advised him (as a remedy) " to seek out a man who was a canning player upon the harp. 1 ' And Saul said, ver. 17: "Provide now a man that can play well, and bring him unto me. Then answered one of his servants, and said, Behold, I have seen a son of Jesse, the Bathlemite. that Is cunning In playing, and a mighty mtin, and a man of war, and prudent in matters, and a comely person, and the Lord is with him; wherefore Sanl 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 the evil spirit of God was upon Saul [verse 23] David took his harp, and played with his hand, and Saal was refreshed, and war well.- But tne next chapter (17) gives an account, all different to this, of the manner that Sanl and David became acquainted. Here it is ascribed to David's encounter with Goliath, wtien 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 [Goliath] he said to Aimer, the captain of the host, Abner. whose son is this youth? And Abner said, As thy sonl livoth. O king. I cannot tell. And the king said, Inqnire thon whose son the stripling Is. Ana M David returned from the slaughter of the Philistine, Abner took him and brousbt him before Sanl, with the head of the Philistine in his hand; and Saul aid unto him, Whose son art thon, thou young man? And David answered, I am the son of thy servant Jenee, the Bethlemite. These two accounts belie each other, became each of them supposes Saul and David not to hare known eack other before. ThU book, the Bible, is too ridiculo* for criticism. PART II.] THE AGE OF REA8OS. 105 ject of several of the preceding chapters, particularly the 37th and 38th, the 39th chapter 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 of Judah, in the tenth month, came Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, and all his army, against Jerusalem, and be- sieged it" etc., etc. But the instance in the last chapter (the 52d) is still more glaring; 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 was one and twenty years old when he began to reign, and he reigned eleven years in Jerusalem, and his mother's name was Hamutal, the daughter of Jeremiah of Libnah, (ver. 4,) and it came to pass in the ninth year of his reign, in the tenth month, that Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, came he and all his army, against Jerusalem, and pitched against it, and built forts against it," etc., etc. It is not possible that any one man, and more particu- larly Jeremiah, 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 everybody would suppose that the writer was in a state of insanity. The 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 Jeremiah; because many of them refer to him, and to the circumstances 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 38th 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. " If" says he, (ver. 17,) " thou wilt assuredly go forth unto the king of Babylorf* princes, then thy soul shall live" etc. Zedekiah was appre- nensive that what passed at this conference should be known; and he said to Jeremiah, (ver. 25,) " If the princes (meaning 106 THE AGK OF REASON. [PART H. those of Judah) hear that I have talked 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 supplication 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 ac- cording to all the words 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 Zede- kiah 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 thou shalt surely be taken, and delivered into that 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; O Zedekiah, king of Judah, thus saith the Lord, Thou shalt not die by the sword, but thou shalt die in peace; and with the burnings of thy fathers, the former kings that were before thee, so shall they burn odors for thee, and they will lament thee, saying, Ah, 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 odors, as at the fun- eral of his fathers, (as Jeremiah had declared the Lord him- self had pronounced,) the reverse, according to the 52d chap- ter, was 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 imposters and liars? As for Jeremiah, he experienced none of those evils. He was taken into favor by Nebuchadnezzar, who gave him in PAJIT II. J THE AOB Or UEABON. 107 charge to the captain of the guard, (chap, xxxix. v. 12,) "Take him (said 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 afterwards to Nebuchadnezzar, and went about prophesying for him against the Egyptians, who had marched to the relief of Jerusalem while it was besieged. Thus much for another of the lying prophets, and the book that bears his name. 1 have been the more particular in treating of the books ascribed to Isaiah and Jeremiah, because those two are spok- en of in the books of Kings and Chronicles, which the others are not. The 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 of 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 opinion, not only because the books called the prophecies are written in poetical lan- guage, 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, etc., 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 eer,* (1 Sam., chap. ix. ver. 9); and it was not till after the word teer went out of use (which most probably was when Saul banished those he called wizards) that the pro- fession of the seer, or the art of seeing, became incorporated Into the word prophet. According to the modern meaning of the word prophet and prophesying-, it signifies foretelling events to a great dis- tance of time ; and it became necessary to the inventors of *f know not wtwt U the Hebrew word that corresponds to the word seer In Brgliih, but I observe It t translated inU> French hy LA Voyant, from the 7rk> oir to 1*4, and which m**ni the person who ***. or the SMT. 108 THE AGE OF BKA8OH. [rAKT IL the gospel to give it this latitude of meaning, in order to apply or to stretch what they 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 im- mediate reference to themselves (as in the case already men- tioned of Ahaz and Isaiah, with respect to the expression, Behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a on), 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, etc.; and it is the fraud of the Christian church, not that of the Jews; and the ignorance and the superstition of modern, not that of ancient times, that elevated those poetical, 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 prophesied for or against, according to the party they were with; as the poetical and political writers of the present day write in defense 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, etc. The prophets of the party of Judah prophesied against the prophets of the party of Israel, and those of the party of Israel against those of Judah. This party prophesying showed ittelf 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 ht was waylaid, on his return home, by a prophet of the party of Israel, who said unto FAJTT II. J THE AGE OF REASON. 109 him (1 Kings, chap, x.): "Art thou the man of God that came from Judah? and he said, I am." Then the prophet of the party of Israel said to him, " I am a prophet also, u thou art (signifying of Judah), and an angel spake unto me by the word of 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. [n 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 inquire of the Lord by him? and one of the servants of the king of Israel said, Here is Elisha (Elisha was of the party of Judah.) And Jehosha- phat, 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 Elisha (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 of thy mother. Nay, but, said the king of Israel, the Lord hath called these three kings together, to deliver them into the hands of the king of Moab, (meaning because of the distress they were it for water;) upon which Elisha said, "As the Lord of hosts liveth before whom I stand, surely, were it not that I regarded Jehoshaphat, 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 him." Here is the farce of the conjuror. HO THB AGE OF BEA8OH. [PABT O. Now for the prophecy: "And Elisha said, (singing most probably to the tune he was playing,) Thus saith the Lord Make this valley full of ditches;" 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, so neither were those prophets; for though all of them, at least those I have spoken of, were famous for lying, some of them excelled in cursing. Elisha, whom I have just men- tioned, 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 i to that of the Dragon of Wantley, of whom it is said, Poor children three deroured he. That could not with him grapple; And at one sup he eat them up, .* Aa a man would eat an apple. There was another description of men called prophet*, that amused themselves with dreams and visions; but whether by night or by day, we know not. These, if thej 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? that i*, were they written by Ezekiel and Daniel? Of thii there is no proof; but so far as my own opinion goes, 1 am more inclined to believe they were, than that they were not. My reasons for this opinion are as follows: First, Because those books do not contain internal evidence to prove they were not written by Ezekiel and Daniel, as the books ascribed to Moses, Joshua, Samuel, etc., etc., prove they were not written by Moses, Joshua, Samuel, etc. Secondly, Because they were not written till after the Babylonish captivity began; and there is good reason to believe, that not any book in the Bible was written before that period; at least, it is provable, from the books them- elve, as I have already shown, that they were not written till after the commencement of the Jewish monarchy. Thirdly, Because the manner iu which the bks ascribed PJLBT II.] THE AGE OF BEABON. Ill 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 foolishly employed or wasted their time in pretending to expound and unriddle those books, been carried into cap- tivity, as Ezekiel and Daniel were, it would have greatly improved their intellects, in comprehending the reason for this mode of writing, and have saved 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 witn 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 country, 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 tnat it was not intended anybody else should. But these busy commenta- tors 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 Johoiakim, nine years before the second captivity in the time of Zedekiah. The Jews were then still numerous, and had considerable force at Jerusalem; and as it is natural to suppose that men In the situation of Ezekiel and Daniel, would be meditating the recovery of their country, and their own deliverance, it is reasonable to suppose, that the accounts of dreams and visions, with which these books are filled, are no other than a disguised mode of correspondence, to facilitate those objects; it served them as a cypher, or secret alphabet. If they we not this, they are tales, reveries, and nonsense; or, at least, a fanciful way of wearing off the wearisomeness of captivity; but the presumption is, that they were the former. 112 THE AGE OF SEASON. [PAJST EL Ezekiel begins his books by speaking of a vision of cheru- bims, and of a wheel within a wheel, which he says he saw by the river Chebar, in the land of his captivity. Is it not reasonable to suppose, that by the cherubims he meant the temple at Jerusalem, where they had figures of cherubims? 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 Jerusalem? In the latter part of this book he supposes himself transported to Jeru- salem, and into the temple; and he refers back to the vision on the river Chebar, and says (chap, xliii., ver. 3) that this last vision was like the vision on the river Chebar; which indicates, that those pretended dreams and visions had for their object 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 priestcraft can go. Scarcely anything can be more absurd than to suppose that men situated as Ezekiel and Daniel were, whose coun- try was overrun and in the possession of the enemy, all their friends and relations in captivity abroad, or in slavery at home, or massacred, or in continual danger of it; scarcely anything, I say, can be more absurd, than to suppose that uch men should find nothing to do but that of employing their time and their thoughts about what was to happen 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 writing, 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 the 29th chapter of Ezekiel, speaking of Egypt, it is said (ver. 11), " No foot of man should pass through it, nor foot of beast should pass through it; neither hall it be inhabited for forty years." This is what never PA-BT n.j THE AGE OF REA8OH. 113 came to pass, and consequently it is false, as all the books I have already reviewed are. I here close this part of the sub- ject. In the former part of the A.ge of JKeason 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 anything. But, as is already shown in the observations on the book of Job and of Proverbs, it is not always certain which of the books in the Bible are originally Hebrew, or only transla- tions 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 satirize the vicious and malignant character of a Bible prophet or a predicting priest. Jonah is represented, first, as a disobedient prophet, run- ning away from his mission and taking shelter aboard a vessel of the Gentiles, bound from Joppa to Tarshish; as if he ignorantly supposed, bv 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 ac- count of some one on board who had committed 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; thi . questioned him to know who and what he was? and he told them he was 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 com- pany of Bible prophets or priests would have done by a Gentile in the same case, and as it is related Samuel had done by Agag, and Moses by the women and children, they endeavored to save him, though at the risk of their own lives; for the account says: "Nevertheless (that ia, though Jon&b 114 THB AGE OF REASON. [PABT n. was a Jew and a foreigner, and the cause of all their misfor- tunes, 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 unwilling 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 bloo.l; 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 worshiped one Supreme Being, and that they were not idolaters as the Jews represented ti.em to be. But the storm still continu- ing, 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 torm 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 connection 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 indi- cate that the whole is a made-up story. The prayer, how- ever, is supposed to have answered the purpose, and the story goes on, (taking up at the same time the cant lan- guage of a Bible prophet,) saying: ''-The Lord spake unto ihejish, and it vomited out Jonah upon dry land." Jonah then received a second mission to Nineveh, with which he seta 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 conceive, 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 days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown." We have now to consider this supposed missionary in the PART II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 115 last act of his mission; and here it is that the malevolent spirit of a Bible-prophet, or of a predicting priest, appears in 11 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? not to con- template, in retirement, the mercy of his Creator to himself or to others, but to wait, with malignant impatience, the destruction of Nineveh. It came to pass, however, as the story relates, that the Ninevites reformed, and that God, ac- cording 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 teas very angry. His obdurate heart would rather that all Nineveh should be destroyed, and every soul, young 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 agreeable 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, " Dost thou well to be angry for the gourd ? And Jonah said, I do well to be angry even unto d( ath; then said the Lord, Thou hast had pity on the gourd, for which thou hast not labored, neither madest it to grow, which came up in a night, and perished in a night; and should not I spare Nine- ven, that great city, in which are more than threescore thous- and 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 " Amenta upon men, women and children, with which this book, the Bible, is crowded; such as Noah's flood, the ition of the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, the ex- tirpation of the Canaanites, even to sucking infants, and women with child, because the same reflection, that there are more than three-score thousand persons that cannot discern between their right hand and their left, meaning young 116 THE AOB OF KKA8OH. [PABT H. children, applies to all their cases. It satirizes, also, the sup- posed partiality of the Creator for one nation more than for another. As a moral, it preaches against the malevolent spirit of prediction; for, as certainly as a man predicts ill, he becomes uiclined to wish it. The pride of having his judgment right hardens his heart, till at last he beholds with satisfaction, or Bees with disappointment, the accomplishment or the failure of hi 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 prophe- cies, I have spoken in the former part of the Age of Reason, and already in this, where I have said that the word prophet IB the Bible word 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 explanation upon his congrega- tion 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 books of the lesser prophets; and, as I have already shown that the greater are impostors, it would be cowardice to dis- turb 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, perhaps, 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 prophecies of the Old; if so, it must follow the fate of its foundation. As it is nothing extraordinary that a woman should be with child before she is married, and that the son she might bring forth should be executed, even unjustly, I see no reason for not believing that such a woman as Mary, and such a man as Joseph, and Jesus, existed; their mere exist- ence is a matter of indifference about which there is no ground either to believe or to disbelieve, and which comes under the common head of It may be so; and what then f 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 sug- gested by some actual circumstance; as the adventures of Robinson Crusoe, not a word of which is true, were sug- gested by the case of Alexander Selkirk. It is not the existence, or non-existence, of the persons that I trouble myself about; it is 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 pretense (Luke, chap, i., ver. 35,) that " the Holy Ghost shall com'e upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee." Not- withstanding 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.* * Mary, the supposed Tlrgln mother of Jesus, had iTr*l otlie* *liUArm tfmt nd daughter.. See Matt. , chap, illl., 55, 56. 118 THJJ AOB OF REASON. [PABT IL. 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, into 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 Jupiter; and shows, as is already stated in the former part of the Age of Reason, that the Christian faith is built upon the heathen mythology. As the historical parts of the New Testament, so far as concerns Jesus Christ, are confined to a very short space of time, less than two years, and all within the same country, and nearly in 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, can- not 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 conditions, 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 story to be true, because the parts may agree, and the whole may be false; secondly, that the disagreement of the parts of a story proves the whole cannot be true. The agree- ment does not prove truth, but the disagreement proves false- hood positively. The history of Jesus Christ is contained in the four books ascribed to Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. The first chap- ter of Matthew begins with giving a genealogy of Jesus Christ, and in the third chapter of Luke there is given a genealogy of Jesus Christ. Did these two agree, it would not prove the gene- alogy to be true, because it might, nevertheless, be a fabri- cation ; 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 peaks 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 net out to prove, they are not entitled to FABTII.J THE AGB OF REASON. 119 be believed in anything they say afterwards. Truth is ac 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 are impostors, or the books ascribed to them have been written by other persons, and fathered upon them, as is the case with the Old Testa- ment. The book of Matthew gives, cliap. i., ver. 6, a genealogy by name from David, up through Joseph, the husband of Mary, to Christ ; and makes there to be twenty-eight genera- tions. 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 be forty -three generations; besides which, there are only the two names of David and Joseph that are alike in the two lists. I here insert both genealog- ical 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, Recording to Genealogy, according to Matthew. Luke. Christ Christ 2 Joseph. S Joseph. I Jacob. S Heli. 4 Matt ban. 4 Matthat 5 Eleazer. 5 Levi. 6 Eliud. 8 Melchi. 7 Achim. 7 Janna. 8 Sadoc, 8 Joseph, 9 Azor. 9 Mattathiaa, 10 Eliakim. 10 Arm*. 11 Abiud. 11 Naum. 12 ZorobabeL 18 Esli. 18 Salathiel. 18 Nagge. 14 Jechoniaa. 14 Maath. 15 Josias. 15 Mattathia*. 16 Amon. 18 Bemei. 17 Manasset. 17 Joseph. 18 Ezekiag. 18 Juda. 19 Achaz. 19 Joanna. 20 Joatham. 20 Rhesa. 21 Ozas. 21 ZorobaboL 22 Joram. 22 Salathiel. 28 Josaphat 28 Nerl. M Asa. M Melchi. 12^ TH A0 OF KEA80B, 9nealogy, according to Genealogy, according to Matthew. Lake. IS Abla. 85 Addl. 88 Roboam. 2 Q Cosam. 87 Solomoa. 27 Elmodam. 88 Darid.* 28 Er. 29 Jose. 80 Eliezer. 81 Jorim. 82 Manual. 88 Levi. 84 Simeon. 85 Juda. 80 Joseph. 87 Jon an. 88 Elakim. 89 Melea. 40 Mi-nan. 41 Mattatha. 42 Nathan. 48 David, Now, if these men, Matthew and Luke, set out will, falsehood between them (as these two accounts show they do) iu 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 for believing the strange things they tell us afterwards? If they cannot be believed in their account of his natural genealogy, how are we to believe them when they tell us he was tie son of God, be- gotten 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? If his natural be manufactured, which it certainly is, why are not we to sup- pose that his celestial genealogy is manufactured also, and that the whole is fabulous? Can any man of serious reflec- tion hazard his future happiness upon the belief of a story naturally impossible, repugnant to every idea of decency, From the birth of David to the birth of Christ Is upwards of 1C80 yews, and as the lifetime of Christ Is not Included, there are but 27 full generations. To find, therefore, the average of each person mentioned in the list at the time his first on was born, It Is only necessary to divide 1080 by 27, which gives 40 years for each person. As the lifetime of man was then bat of the same extent it Is now. it Is an absurdity to suppose that 27 following generations should all be old bache- lors before they married: and the more so when we are told that Solomon, the ext in succession to David, had a bonse full of wives and mistresses before he was SI yean of age. So far from this genealogy being a solemn troth. It is not m a reasonable lie. The llM of Lake give* about i yean for Ue average age. PART II. J THE AGE OF BEASON. 121 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, inde- cent and contradictory tales? The first question, however, upon the books of the New Testament, 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 doubtfulfiess 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, 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 xipon matters related in the other, and the disagreement that is to be found among them, implies that they are the pro- duction of some unconnected individuals, 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 supposed 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 immaculate conception is not so much as mentioned in the books ascribed to Mark and John, and is diil'er- ently 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 for 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. Why then are we to believe the same thing of another girl whom we never saw, told by nobody knows who, uor when, nor where? How strange and inconsistent 129 THE AGE OF REASON. [PAKT n. is it, that the same circumstance that would weaken the be- lief even of a probable story, should be given as a motire for believing this one, that has upon the face of it ererr 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 anything about it. Had such a cir- cumstance 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 Egpyt; 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 \n ihe same words, the written inscription, short as it is, which they tell us was put over Christ when he was crucified; and besides this, Mark says, He was crucified at the third hour (nine in the morning;) 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 rt, was Peter, and when he was accused of being one of us' followers, it is said, (Matthew, chap. xxvi. ver. 74) " Then Peter began to curse and to swear, saying, I know 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? The accounts that are given of the circumstances, that they According to John, the sentence was not punned till about the rirth hoar, (noon.) and. coneeqnently, the execution could not be till the afternoon; but Mark cny expre*lT, that he wa* crucified ai the third hoar (.nine in the mor ta.) chip. v. IB, John chap, il i ver. 14. FAST n.] THE AGE OF SEASON. 123 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 was 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 went into the holy city and appeared unto many." Such is the account which this dashing writer of the book of Matthew gives, but in which he is not supported by the writers of the other books. The writer of the book ascribed to Mark, in detailing the circumstances of the crucifixion, makes no mention of any earthquake, 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 crucifixion 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 sup- posed 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 opening of the graves is supernatural, mnd 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 124 THK AQK OK REASON. [PAJBT tt. this, little'and trivial things, and mere prattling conversations of, he taid this and the said that, are often tediously detailed, while this most important of all, had it been true, is passed off in & slovenly 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 lie 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 that 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 where 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 eject- ments for the recovery of their possessions, or brought actions of crim. con. against the rival interlopers; whether they remained on earth, and followed their former occupation of preaching or working; or whether they died again, or went back to their graves alive, 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 anything to tell us 1 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 everything, and we should have had posthumous prophecies, witli notes and commen- taries 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, everybody 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 story. The tale of the resurrection follows that of the crucifix- ion; and in this as well as in that, the writers, whoever they PAJCI n.] TFTB AOK OF BitASOH. 125 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 application, nor about the seal- ing, 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 Magdalene came alone. So well do they agree about their first evidence ! they all, however, appear to have known most about Mary Magdalene; she was a woman of 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,J "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 roll- ing 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 tone rolled away, and wondering at it, went into the sep- 126 THE AGE OF REASON. [PA*T H. ulchre, 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 oourt 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 hav- ing their ears cropped 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 inspiration, and as the unchangeable word f 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,) u behold some of the watch (meaning the watch that he had said had been placed over the sepulchre) came into the city, and bowed unto the chief priests all the things that were done; and when they were assembled with the elders, and had taken counsel, they gave large money unto the soldiers, say- ing, Say ye that his disciples came by night, and stole him away while we tlept; and if this come to the governor's ears we will persuade him, and secure you. So they 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 pretends to treat; for the expression implies a great length of intervening time. It would be inconsistent in us to speak in this manner of anything happening in our own time. To give, therefore, intelligible meaning to the expression, we must suppose a lapse of some generations, at PART n.] THE AGE OF REASON. 127 least, for this manner of speaking carries the mind baok 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 evi- dence 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 received; it will do well enough for Testament evidence, but not for anything where truth is con- cerned. 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 sepul- chre 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 next two verses, (8, 9,) makes Christ himself to speak to the same purpose to these women immediately 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 away into Gallilee, into a mountain where Jesus had appointed them; and when they saw him, they worshiped him." But the writer of the book of John tells us a story very different to this; for he says, chap, xx., ver. 19: "Then the same day, at evening, being the first day of the week, (that is, the same day that Christ is said to have risen,) when th doors were shut, where the disciples were assembled, for fear of the Jews, came Jesus and stood in the midst of them." According to Matthew, the eleven were marching to Gal- ilee, to meet Jesus in a mountain, by his own appointment, mi the very tame when, according to John, they were 128 THE AGE OF BKASOH. [PAJKT U. bled 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 Mat- thew 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 disciples the right of willful 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 assem- bled in a house in Jerusalem, Matthew must have been one of that eleven; yet Matthew says the meeting was hi a moun- tain in Galilee, and consequently the evidence given in those books destroys each other. The writer of the book of Mark says nothing about any meeting 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 which he keeps Christ employed the whole of the day of this pretended resurrection, until the evening, and which totally invalidates the 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 Einmaus, threescore furlongs (seven miles and a hain from Jerusalem, and that Christ, in disguise, went with them, and staid with them unto the evening, and supped with them, aud then vanished out of their sight, and re-ap- peared that game 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 a and as I have seen nothing in any of the answers to that work, that in the least affects what I have there said upon those subjects, I shall not encumber this Second Part with addi- tions that are not necessary. I have spoken also in the same work upon what is called revelation, and have shown the absurd misapplication of that term to the books of the Old Testament and the New; for certainly revelation is out of the question in reciting anything 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 thi fraudu- lent description of being all revelation, Revelation, then, so far as the term has relation between God and man, can only be applied to something which God reveals of his will to man; but though the power of the Almighty to make such a communication is necessarily ad- mitted, because to that power all things are possible, yet, the thing so revealed (if anything ever was revealed, and which, by the bye, it is impossible to prove) is revelation to the person only to whom it is made. His account of it to another is not revelation; and whoever puts faith in that account, 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 criterion whereby to judge of the truth of what he tells; for even the morality of it would be no proof of rev- elation. In all such cases the proper answer would b, * When it is revealed to me, I will believe it to be a revel*- P4JBT II.] THE AOK OF REASON. 145 tion ; but it is not, and cannot be incumbent upon me to be- lieve it to be a revelation before; neither is it proper that I should take the word of man as the word 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 JReaton; 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, thus admit the possi- bility of revelation, I totally disbelieve that the Almighty ever did communicate anything to man, by any mode of speech, in any language, 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 him- self in the works of creation, and by that repugnance we feel in ourselves to bad actions, and disposition to do good ones. The most detestable wickedness, the most horrid cruel- ties, and the greatest miseries, that have afflicted the human race, have had their origin in this thing called revelation, or revealed religion. It has been the most dishonorable belief against the character of the Divinity, the most de- structive to morality, and the peace and happiness 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 doctrine of devils, if there were any such, than that we per- mitted one such impostor and monster as Moses, Joshua, Samuel, and the Bible prophets, to come with the pre- tended word of God in his mouth, and have credit among us. Whence arose all the horrid assassinations of whole na- tions 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 impioua 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, and the lies of the Testament of the other. Some Christum* pretend, that Christianity was not ectab- 146 THE AGE OF BEASOH. [PART IX. lished 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 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, Christianity 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 con verts ; 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 Christianity is made up of both. It is then false to say that Christianity was 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. It is incumbent on every man who reverences the char- acter of the Creator, and who wishes to lessen the catalogue of artificial miseries, and remove the cause that has sown persecutions thick among mankind, to expel all ideas of re* vealed religion as a dangerous heresy, and an impious fraud. What is it that we have learned from this pretended thing called revealed religion? Nothing that is useful to man, and everything that is dishonorable to his Maker. What is it the Bible teaches us? rapine, cruelty, and murder. What is it the Testament teaches us? to believe that the Al- mighty 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 arc PAKT II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 147 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 hungry, give him bread to eat; and if he be thirsty, give him water 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 good in a political sense, for there is no end to retal- iation, each retaliates on the other and calls it justice; but to love in proportion to the injury, 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 to be always clear and denned, like a proverb. If a man be the enemy of another through 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 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 mo- tive, is morally and physically impossible. 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 * According to what is called Christ's sermon on the mount, in the book of jood deal of this fei-m>d it the doctrine of forbear- typart of the doctrine of the, lews; Matthew where, among some other good thinas, a good < morality is introduced, it is there expressly said, that the ance, or of not retaliating Injuries, was not any part ofthet 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 idolaters have abusively called heathens, 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 iSew. 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 public morality. "That.'' says lie. "where the least injury done to themeanest individual, is ronxi.ilcrfd as an insult to the whole constitution." Solon lived about 500 years before Christ. 148 THB AGE Of REASON. [PAJTT U. premiums for crime. The maxim of doing as we would be done unto, does not include this strange doctrine of loving enemies; for no man expects to be loved himself for hi* crime or for his enmity. Those who preach this doctrine of loving their enemies, are in general the greatest persecutors, and they act consist- ently by so doing; for the doctrine is hypocritical, and it is natural that hypocrisy should act the reverse of what it preaches. For my own part, I disown the doctrine, and consider it as a feigned or fabulous 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 American 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 Creator 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 Bee 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 behold, preach to us the existence of an Almighty power that governs and regulates the whole? And is not the evidence that this creation holds out to our senses infinitely stronger than anything we can read in a book, that any impostor might make and call the word of God ? As for morality, the knowledge of it exists in every man's conscience. Here we are. The existence of an Almighty power u sufficiently demonstrated to us, though we cannot conceive, as it is impossible we should, the nature and manner of Its existence. We eannot conceive how we came here our- gelves, 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 ration- al to believe that he will, for we know beforehand that h PAJBT n.j THE AGE OF BKABOV. 149 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; or belief would have no merit, and our best actions no virtue. Deism then teaches us, without the possibility of being deceived, all that is necessary or proper to be known. The creation is the Bible of the Deist. He there reads, in the handwriting of the Creator himself, the certainty of his exist- ence, and the immutability 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 is proper we should be in, as free agents, it is the fool only, and not the philosopher, or even the prudent man, that would live 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 can- not 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 notion of a Trinity of Gods has enfeebled the belief of one God. A multiplication of beliefs acts as a division of belief ; and in proportion as anything is divided it is weakened. Religion, by such means, becomes a thing of form, 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; and execution as 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 execut- ed, and condemn the Jews for doing it. A man, by hearing all this nonsense lumped and preached together, confounds the God of the creation with the im- agined God of the Christians, and lives as if there were 150 THB A.GK OF BEA8OJT. Of all the systems of religion that ever were invented, there is none more derogatory to the Almighty, more unedi- fying to man, more repugnant to reason, and more contradic- tory in itself, than this thing called Christianity. Too absurd for belief, too impossible to convince, and too inconsistent for practice, it renders the heart torpid, or produces only atheists and fanatics. As an engine 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 aimple Deism. It must have been the first, and will prob- ably be the last that man believes. But pure and simple Deism does not answer the purpose of despotic govern- ments. They cannot lay hold of religion as an engine, but by mixing it with human inventions, and making their OWE authority a part; neither does it answer the avarice of priest* 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 reg- ulated by the force of that belief ; he would stand in awe of God, and of himself, and would not do the thing that could not be concealed from either. To give this belief the full opportunity of force, it is necessary that it act alone. Thin u Deism. 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 impos- sible that belief can attach itself to such wSd conceits.* It has been the scheme of the Christian church, and of all the other invented systems of religion, to hold man in ignorance of the Creator, as it is of government to hold man in ignorance of his rights. The systems of the one are as The book called the book of Matthew, aayn, chap. 111. rer. 16, that Uu Holy Ghott descended in person of whom Isaiah 180 EXAMINATION OF 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 was 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, oppressed, and imprisoned, and he says of himself (see Jeremiah, chap. ii. ver. 19), " But as for me, I was like a lamb or an ox that is brought to the slighter." I should be inclined to the same opinion with Grotius, had Isaiah lived at the same time when Jeremiah underwent the cruelties of which he speaks ; but Isaiah died about fifty years before j 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 afterwards, per- verted 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 num- bers followed him and he healed them all and he charged them that they should not make him known ; That it might be ful- filled 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 smoking flax shall he not quench, till he sends 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 num- bers 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 num- bers following him^-with his healing them nor with his charg- ing them not to make him known. THE PROPHECIES. 181 The purpose for which the passage is quoted and the passage itself, are as remote from each other, as nothing from some- thing. 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 inconsistencies have passed on them for trxith, and imposition for prophecy. The all-wise Creator has been dishonored by being made the author of fable, and the human mind degraded by believing it. In this passage as in that last mentioned, the name of the person of whom the passage speaks is not given, and we are left in the dark respecting him. It is this defect in the his- tory, 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 passage speaks ; and his friendship for the Jews whom he lib- erated from captivity, and who might then be compared to a bruised reed, was extensive. But this description does not apply to Jesus Christ, who had no authority among the Gen- tiles , 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 IK; travelled about the country for that purpose. Matthew has given a long sermon, which (if his authority is good, but which is much to be doubted since he im- poses 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 Baby- lon, liberated the Jews, and established laws. But this cannot be said of Jesus Christ, who in the passage before us, according to Matthew, withdrew 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 Testa- 182 EXAMINATION OF ment, was continually moving from place to place to avoid being apprehended.* But it is immaterial to us, at this distance of time, to know who the person was: it is sufficient for 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 Christ. 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 Olive's, 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 * In the second part of the "Age of Reason," I have shown that the book ascribed to Isaiah is not only miscellaneous as to matter but as to author- ship ; 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 little better than Matthew'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 book of Ezra, for the return of the Jews to Jerusalem. It cannot be doubted, 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 custom- ary style, bombastical and hyperbolical as it was, which they used on ex- traordinary 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 saith of Cyrus, he is my shepherd and shall perform, all my pleasure : even sai/inff to Jerusalem thou shalt be built, and to the Temple, thy foundation shall 'be laid. Thus saith the Lord to his anointed to Cyrus, whose right hand I haw holden to subdue nations before him; and I will loose the loins of kings, to open before him the two-leaved gates, and the gates shall not be shut." This complimentary address is in the present tense, which shows that the things of which it sneaks were in existence at the time of writing it ; and consequently that the author must have been at least one hundred and fifty years Liter than Isaiah, and that the book which bears his name is a com- pilation. 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 together, 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 pood ground to conclude, that the passage in the 42nd chapter, in which the character of Cvrus is given without his name, has been introduced in like r, and that the person there spoke of is Cyrus. THE PEOPHECIES. 183 unto me and if any man say ought to you, ye shall say, the Lord hath need of them, and straightway he will send them. "All this was done that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet, saying, Tell ye the daughter feet 6 inches broad, and 8 feet 3 inches thick, and contains 7,2o4 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 cubic foot of marble is 556 pounds, which, multiplied by 7,234, the number of cubic feet in one of these 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 require a thousand horses to araw one such stone on the ground ; 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. The Bishop also tells of yreat guns used by the Turks at the taking of Con- stantino~>le, one of which, he says, was drawn by seventy yoke of oxen, and by two tnousand men. Vol. 3rd, page 117. The weight of a cannon that carries a ball of 43 pounds, which is the largest cannon that are cast, weighs 8,000 pounds, about three tons and a half, and may be drawn by three yoice of oxen. Anybody may now calcu- late what the weight of the Bishop's great gun must be, that required 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 subject, be it religious or anything else, thsre are no bounds to their extra- vagance, no limit to their absurdities. The three volumes which this Bishop has written on what he calls the pro- phecies, contain above 1,2 1 JO pages, and he says in voL 3, pa?e 117, " I Itave ttvMied brevity." This is as marvellous as the Bishop's great gun. 198 EXAMINATION OF concludes 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, 1 suppose that even the world 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 upon 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 thy passages called prophecies. I HAVE now, reader, gone through and examined all the pass- ages which the four books of Matthew, .Mark, Luke, and John, quote from the Old Testamemt 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 trifling 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 OL t are restored to the place they are taken from, and read with the words before and after 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 1 catted my &on" and apply it as a prophecy in that case. The words "And called my Son out of Egypt" are in the Bible ; 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 Pharaoh, and to the idol- atry they committed 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 or the original, cut out a sentence from Exodus, " a THE PROPHECIES. 199 bone of him shall not be broken," and apply it as a prophecy of that case. The words "Neither 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 im- mediately joined to, show it is the bones of a he-lanib 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 fur from his being the Son of God, he did not exist even as a man that he is merely an imaginary or allegorical character, as Apollo, as 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 absurdities, which are to be met with in almost e.very page of the Old and New Testament, all the priests of the present day who supposed themselves capable, would triumphantly show their skill in criticism, and cry it down as a most glaring im- position. But since the books in question belong to their own trade and profession, they, or at least many of them, seek to stifle every inquiry into them, 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 OP GOD, it ought to be examined with the utmost strict- ness, 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 printing 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 200 EXAMINATION OF bibles now cost; consequently was in the hands of very few persons, and these chiefly of the church. This gave an oppor- tunity to the writers of the New Testament to make quotations from the Old Testament as they pleased, and call them prophe- cies, with very little clanger 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 Testament; 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 equally 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 went 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 common lot of man; and, consequently, the only case that would apply exclusively to him, as prophecy, would be some passage in the Old Testament that foretold such things of him. But there is not a passage in the Old Testament that speaks of a person, 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 language full and intelligible. I deal not in hints and intima- tions. I have several reasons for this: First, that I may be clearly understood. Secondly, that it may be seen I am in earnest. And thirdly, because it is an affront to truth to treat falsehood with complaisance. THE PROPHECIES. 201 I will close this treatise with a subject I have already touched upon in the First Part of the "Age 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 human 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? 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? The goodness he shows to all, is a lesson foF 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 Creation 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 acquaint- ed 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. 202 EXAMINATION OF He made a journey to Kome, 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 mythology, as it stood in the latter times of the Greeks and Romans. He attacked without ceremony the miracles which the Church pretend to perform : and in one of his treatises, he- calls the creation a revelation. The priests of England of that day, in order to defend 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 reve- lation 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 to God or to his fellow-creatures. This constitution 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 cannot 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 reader's 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-creatures, but from the information of the facts and material objects which in his providential distribution of wordly things, he hath presented to the perpetual observation of our senses. For as it was from these that his existence and THE PROPHECIES. 203 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 easy discoverable to us by the same method. " I had another view likewise in the same passage, and ap- plicable 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 show- ing themselves to be the production of an all-wise and Almighty being ; and by accustoming his mind to these sublime reflec- tions, he will be prepared to determine whether those miracu- lous interpositions so confidently affirmed to us by the primitive fathers, can reasonably 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 par- ticular purposes of his government and the services of his church, descend to the expedient of visions and revelations, granted sometimes to boys for the instruction of the elders, and sometimes to women to settle the fashion 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 suffer- ings 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, unsatisfac- tory, and inadequate as the ecstacies 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 Middleton, meaning the law revealed in the works of the creation) was actually revealed 204 EXAMINATION OF 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 remaining 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 forbidding; which never loses its influence' with the good, nor never 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 absolved 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 another 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 greatest punishments, though he should escape all the other torments which are commonly believed to be prepared for the wicked." Here ends the quota- tion from Cicero. " Our Doctors (continues 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 riflrht 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 uactuingeable order of his creation and the immutability of his law. " There cannot" says Cicero, " be one law now, and THE PROPHECIES. 205 another hereafter ; but the same eternal immutable law compre- hends all nations, at all times, under one common master and governor of all GOD." But according to the doctrines of schools which priests have set up, we see one law called the Old Testament, giv r en in one age of the world, and other law, called the New Testament, given in another age of the world. As all 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 imposi- tions, 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. Instead of reposing his faith on books, by whatever name they may be called, whether Old Testament or New, he fixes the creation as the great original standard by which every other thing called the word, or work of God, is- to be tried. In this we have an indisputable scale, whereby to measure every word or work imputed to him. If the thing so imputed, carries not in itself the evidence of the same Almightiness of power, of the same unerring truth and wisdom, and the same unchangeable order in all its parts, as are visibly demonstrated to our senses, and incomprehensible 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- late 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 numberless, 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, hath de- ceived tliat 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 tliat were not good, and judgments by which they could 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. 206 EXAMINATION OP 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 ram's skins dyed red, and badger skins, chat book, by four hundred years of bondage and affliction. Genesis, chap, xv., ver. 13. "And God said unto Abraham, know of a surety, that thy seed shall be a stranger in a land that is not theirs, and shall serve them, and 'they sJiall affiicl 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 chil- dren's children for four hundred years. But the case is, the book of Genesis was written after the THE PROPHECIES. 207 bondage in Egypt had taken place ; and in order to get rid of the disgrace of the Lord's chosen people, as they called them- selves, being 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 performing 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 wretched and contemptible tales into a comparative view, with the Almighty power and eternal wisdom, which the Creator had 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 sentiments of Cicero, the result will be that the human mind has degenerated by believing them. Man in a state of grovelling superstition, from which he has not courage to rise, loses 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 standard, which, 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 origin, 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 derogatory to the Almightiness of his power, and the eternity of his wisdom. The New Testament supposes that God senfe 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 will have this; but faith in the person called Jesus Christ, and that who ever had not this faith should, to use the words of the ^ T ' Testament, be DAMNED. Now, if this were a fact, it is consistent with that Attribute of God, called his Goodness, that no time sliould oe lost i" 208 EXAMINATION OF 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 immediately over the whole earth, in a manner suitable to the Almightiness of his divine nature, and with evi- dence that would not leave man in doubt; for it is alway* 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 dis- tinguish the works of God from the works of man. Observe, now, reader, how the comparison between this sup- posed mission of Christ, on the belief or disbelief of which they say man was to be saved or damned observe, I say, how the comparison 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 everything therein in six days. The term six day is ridiculous enough when applied to God ; but leaving out that absurdity, it contains the idea of Almighty power acting unit- edly with Almighty wisdom, to produce an immense work, that of the creation of the universe and everything therein, in a short time. Now as the eternal salvation of man is of much greater importance than his creation, and as that salvation depends, as the New Testament tells us, on man's knowledge of, and belief in the person called Jesus Christ, it necessarily follows from our belief in the goodness and justice of God, and our know- ledge of his almighty 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 wonld to the salvation of innumer- able millions of souls, which himself had created, "as t/ie 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 THE PROPHECIES. 209 longer time than God employed in making the world, accord- ing 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 asserts, was thirty years old before he began to preach what they call his mission. Millions of souls died in the meantime without knowing 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 knowledge of, or were inspired with the art of printing : and, consequently, as the means for mak- ing 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 deistical, to show how universally and instantaneously the works of God make themselves known, compared with this pretended salvation by Jesus Christ. Psalm 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 heaven, and his circuit unto the ends of it, and there is nothing hid from the heat thereof." Now, had the news of salvation by Jesus Christ been in- scribed on the face of the Sun and the Moon, in characters that all nations would have understood, the whole earth had known it in twenty-four hours, and all nations would have be- lieved it; whereas, though it is now almost two thousand yeara since, as they tell us, Christ came upon earth, not a twentieth part of the people of the earth know anything of it, and among those who do, the wiser part do not believe it. I have now, reader, gone through all the passages called prophecies of Jesus Christ, and shown there is no such thing. I have examined the story told of Jesus Christ, and com- pared the several circumstances of it with that revelation,, which, as Middleton wisely says, God has made to us of hia 14 210 EXAMINATION OF THE PROPHECIES. Power and Wisdom in the structure of the universe, and by which everything ascribed 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, un- certain, and inadequate to the accomplishment of the end pro- posed, and, therefore, the whole is a fabulous 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 OP CHRIST IS AN INFIDEL TO GOD. THOMAS PAINE. REPLY TO THE BISHOP OF LLA.NDAFF. 211 EXTRACT FROM A REPLY TO THE BISHOP OF LLANDAFF [This extract from Mr. Paine's reply to Watson, Bishop of Llandaff, was given by him, not long before his death, to Mrs. Palmer, widow of Elihu Palmer. He retained the work entire, and, therefore, must have trans* cribed this part, which was unusual for him to do. Probably he had dis- covered errors, which he corrected in the copy. Mrs. Palmer presented it to the editor of a periodical work, entitled "The Theophilanthropist," pub- lished in New York, in which it appeared in 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 controvert 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 cosmogonies, 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 cosmogony 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, shows those three verses to belong to the first chapter. The second cosmogony begins at the fourth verse of the second chapter, and ends with that chapter. In the first cosmogony the name of God is used, without any epithet joined to it, and is repeated thirty-five times. In the second cosmogony 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 * See Letter to Erskine, page 229. 212 REPLY TO THE the contradictions 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 con- tinued 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 cosmogony. This chapter gives an account of what is called the fall of man, which is no other than a fable borrowed from, and con- structed upon the religion of Zoroaster, or the Persians, or the annual progress of the sun through the twelve signs of the Zodiac, it is the fall of tlie year, the approach and evil of winter, announced by the ascension of the autumnal constella- tion of the serpent of the Zodiac, 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 1 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 ripe, 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. 24, "Unto Adam and his wife did the Lord God make coats of skins and clothed them" But why are coats of skins mentioned? This cannot be understood as referring to anything of the nature of moral tvil. The solution of the allegory gives again the answer to this question, which is, that the evil of winter, which follows the fall of the year, fabulously called in Genesis the fall of man, makes warm clothing necessary. But of these things I shall speak fully when I come in another part to treat of the ancient religion of the Persians, and compare it with the modern religion of the New Testa- ment.* At present, I shall confine myself to the comparative * Not published. BISHOP OF LLANDAFF. 213 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 allegorical, 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 creation 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 refer- red to as fundamental matters, and that very frequently, in the books of the Bible that were written by various authors after- wards ; 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, in- cluding a space of more than a thousand 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 preface or introduction to the other books, when they were formed into a canon in the time of the second temple, and, therefore, not having existed before that time, none of these things mentioned in 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 refer to them as fables. The first of these solutions goes against the antiquity of the book, and the second against its authenticity, 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, 214 REPLY TO THE as from the Jews themselves, that the things stated in that book were not believed to be facts. Why they have been be- lieved as facts since that time, when better and fuller know- ledge existed on the case, than is known now, can be accounted for only on the imposition 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 considered 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?" Maimonides, 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 Nevochim," 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 ancient sages would not have recommended, with so much care, to conceal the sense of it, and not to raise the allegori- cal veil which envelopes the truths it contains. The book of Genesis, taken according to the letter, gives the most absurd and the most extravagant ideas of the Divinity. Whoever shall find out the sense of it, ought to restrain himself from di- vulging it. It is a maxim which all our sages repeat, and above all with respect to the work of six days. It may happen that Home one, with the aid he may borrow from others, may hit n*x>n the meaning of it. In that case he ought to impose ei.ence 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 understand." BISHOP OF LLANDAFF. 215 This is, certainly, a very extraordinary declaration of Mai- monides, 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 concealed meaning, or the secret, from being known, and, if known, to prevent any of their people from telling it 1 It cer- tainly must be something which the Jewish nation are afraid or ashamed the world should know. It must be something per- sonal to them as a people, 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 cosmogony, that is, their account of the Creation, from the cosmogony of the Per- sians, contained in the book of Zoroaster, the Persian lawgiver, and brought it with them when they returned from captivity by the benevolence of Cyrus, King of Persia ; for it is evident, from the silence of all the books of the Bible upon the subject of the Creation, that the Jews had no cosmogony before that time. If they had a cosmogony 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 five hundred years, or of their prophets and psalmists, who lived in the meantime, would have men- tioned 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 cor- dial to the gloomy Jeremiah. But not one word nor even a whisper, does any of the Bible authors give upon the subject. To conceal the theft, the Rabbins of the second temple have published Genesis as a book of Moses, and have enjoined se- crecy to all their people, who, by travelling, or otherwise, might happen to discover from whence the cosmogony was borrowed, not to tell it. The evidence of circu instances is often unanswer- 210 REPLY TO THE able, and there is no other than this which I have given, that goes to the whole of the case, and this does. Diogenes Laertius, an ancient and respectable author whom the bishop, in his answer to me, quotes 011 another occasion, has a passage that corresponds with the solution here given. In speaking of the religion of the Persians, as promulgated by their priests or magi, he says, the Jewish Rabbins were the success- ors of their doctrine. Having thus spoken on the plagiarism, and on tlie non-reality of the book of Genesis, I will give some additional evidence 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 Maccabees, 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, beginning at the 31st verse, " These are the kings that reigned in Edom, before there reigned any king over the children of Israel," which is impossible could have been written by Moses, or in the time of Moses, and could not have been written until 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 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 reject 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 written till several hundred years after the reputed author of it was dead. He would call such a book a BISHOP OF LLANDAFF. 217 forgery. I am authorised, therefore, to call the book of Genesis a forgery. Combining, then, all the foregoing circumstances together respecting the antiquity and authenticity of the book of Genesis, a conclusion will naturally follow therefrom ; those circum- stances are, First, that certain parts of 'the book cannot possibly have been written by Moses, and that the other parts carry no evi- dence 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 tine 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 Creation, the privy-counsellor and confidant of the Almighty the legislator of the Jewish nation, and the founder of its religion ; strange, I say, that even the name of euch a man should not find a place in their books for a thousand years, if they knew or believed anything about him, or the books he is said to have written. Fourthly, the opinion of some of the most celebrated of the Jewish 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, Maimonides, that the book of Genesis is not a book of facts. Sixthly, the silence imposed by all tbe Jewish Rabbins, and by Maimonides himself, upon the Jewish nation, not to speak of anything they may happen to know, or discover, respecting the cosmogony (or creation of the world) 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 218 REPLY TO THE 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 Maimonides upon the Jewish nation, to keep silence upon every thing related in their cosmogony, 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 cosmogony of the Persians, as registered in the Zend-Avesta, of Zoroaster, the Persian lawgiver, which, after their return from captivity, they manufactured and modelled as their own, and ante-dated it by giving to it the name of Moses. The case admits of no other explanation. From ail which it appears that the book of Genesis, instead of being the oldest book in the icorld, as the bishop calls it, has been the last written book of the Bible, and that the cosmogony it contains has been manufactured. ON THE NAMES IN THE BOOK OP GENESIS. Everything in Genesis serves as evidence, or symptom, that the book 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 him up. It has the appearance of being taken 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, BISHOP OF LLANDAFF. 219 moreover, heads of families. Adam was the father of the world. Enoch, for his righteousness, was taken up to heaven. Methu- selah 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 appearance 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 com- mon among the Jews before that period as they have been since. We now hear of thousands of Abrahams, Isaacs, and Jacobs among the Jews, hut 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 ? It can be accounted for but one way, which is that before the Babylonian captivity, the Jews had no such book as Genesis, nor knew anything of the names and persons it men- tions, nor of the things it relates, and that the stories in it have been manufactured since that time. From the Arabic name Ibrahim (which is the manner the Turks write that name to this day) the Jews have most probably manufactured their Abraham. I will advance my observations a point further, and speak of the names of Moses 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 Moses 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 of Moses and Aaron have been common among the Jews. 220 REPLY TO THE It is applicable to the purpose, to observe, that the picturesque work, called Mosaic-work, spelled the same as you would say the Mosaic account of the creation, is not derived from the word Moses but from Mitses (the Muses, because of the variegated and picturesque pavement in the temples dedicated to the Muses). This carries a strong implication that the name Moses is drawn from the same source, and that he is not a real but an allegori- cal person, as Maimonides describes what is called the Mosaic account 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 chap- ters), though these were, according to the account in that book, the most extraordinary of all the names that make up the cat- alogue 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, * in, in the summer, are directly opposite to those he appeared in in the winter, and the same in respect to spring and autumn The zodiac, besides being divided into twelve constellations. is also, like every other circle, great or small, divided into 3 GO equal parts, called degrees; consequently each constellation- contains 30 degrees. The constellations of the zodiac arc gen erally called signs, to distinguish them from the constellation* that are placed out of the zodiac, and this is the name I shall now use. The precession of the equinoxes is the part most difficult to explain, and it is on this that the explanation chiefly depends The equinoxes correspond to the two seasons of the year when the sun makes equal day and night. Thefottounng is a disconnected part oftJie same work, and is now (1824} first published. SABBATH, OR SUNDAY. The seventh day, or more properly speaking the period of seven days, was originally a numerical division of time and nothing more ; and had the bishop been acquainted with the . history of astronomy, he would have known this. The annual revolution of the earth makes what we call a year. 15 226 REPLY TO THE The year is artificially divided into months, the months into weeks of seven days, the days into hours, &c. The period of seven days, like any other of the artificial divisions of the year, is only a fractional part thereof, contrived for the convenience of countries. It is ignorance, imposition, and priest-craft, that have called it otherwise. They might as well talk of the Lord's month, of the Lord's week, of the Lord's hour, as of the Lord's day. All time is his, and no part of it is more holy or more sacred than another. It is, however, necessary to the trade of a priest, that he should preach up a distinction of days. Before the science of astronomy was studied and carried to the degree of eminence to which it was by the Egyptians and Chaldeans, the people of those times had no other helps, than what common observation of the very visible changes of the sun and moon afforded, to enable them to keep an account of the progress of time. As far as history establishes the point, the Egyptians were the first people who divided the year into twelve months. Herodotus, who lived above two thousand two hundred years ago, and is the most ancient historian whose works have reached our time, says, they did this by the know- la. Ige they Jiad of the stars. As to the Jews, there is not one s : !igle improvement in any science or in any scientific art, that they ever produced. They were the most ignorant of all the illiterate world. If the word of the Lord had come to them, -as they pretend, and as the bishop professes to believe, and that they were to be the harbingers of it to the rest of the world ; the Lord would have taught them the use of letters, and the art of printing ; for without the means of communicat- ing the word, it could not be communicated ; whereas letters were the invention of the Gentile world ; and printing the modern world. But to return to my subject Before the helps which the science of astronomy afforded, the people as before said, had no other, whereby to keep an account of the progress of time, than what the common and very visible changes of the sun and moon afforded. They saw that a great number of days made a year, but the account of them was too tedious, and too difficult to be kept numerically, from one to three hundred and sixty-five ; neither did they know the true time of a solar year. It, therefore, became necessary, for the purpose of marking the progress of days, to put them into small parcels, such as are now called weeks ; and which consisted as BISHOP OF LLANDAFP. 227 they now do of seven days. By this means the memory was assisted as it is with us at this day ; for we do not say of any thing that is past, that it was fifty, sixty, or seventy days ago, but that it was so many weeks, or, if longer time, so many months. It is impossible to keep an account of time without helps of this kind. Julian Scaliger, the inventor of the Julian period of 7,980 years, produced by multiplying the cycle of the moon, the cycle of the sun, and the years of an indiction, 19, 28, 15, into each other; says, that the custom of reckoning by periods of seven days was used by the Assyrians, the Egyptians, the Hebrews, the people of India, the Arabs, and by all the nations of the east. In addition to what Scaliger says, it is evident that in Britain, in Germany, and the north of Europe, they reckoned by periods of seven days, long before the book called the bible, was known in those parts; and, consequently, that they did not take that mode of reckoning from anything written in that book. That they reckoned by periods of seven days is evident from their having seven names and no more for the several days ; and which have not the most distant relation to anything in the book of Genesis, or to that which is called the fourth com- mandment. Those names are still retained in England, with no other alteration than what has been produced by moulding the Saxon and Danish languages into modern English. 1. Sun-day, Sunne the sun, and dag, day, Saxon. Sunday, Danish. The day dedicated to the sun. 2. Monday, that is, moonday, from Mona, the moon, Saxon. Moano, Danish. Day dedicated to the moon. 3. Tuesday, that is, Tuis-co's-day. The day dedicated to the Idol Tuisco. 4. Wednes-day, that is Woden's-day. The day dedicated to Woden, the Mars of the Germans. 5. Thurs-day, that is Thor's-day, dedicated to the Idol Thor. 6. Friday, that is Friga's-day. The day dedicated to Friga, the Venus of the Saxons. Saturday from Seaten (Saturn), an Idol of the Saxons ; one of the emblems representing time, which continually terminates and renews itself: the last day of the period of seven days. When we see a certain mode of reckoning general among 228 REPLY TO THE t nations totally unconnected, differing from each other in reli- gion and in government, and some of them unknown to each other, we may be certain that it arises from some natural and common cause, prevailing alike over all, and which strikes every one in the same manner. Thus all nations have reckoned arithmetically by tens, because the people of all nations have ten fingers. If they had more or less than ten, the mode of arithmetical reckoning would have followed that number, for the fingers are a natural numeration table to all the world. I now come to show why the period of seven days is so generally adopted. Though the sun is the great luminary of the world, and the animating cause of all the fruits of the earth, the moon by re- newing herself more than twelve times oftener than the sun, which does it but once a year, served the rustic world as a natural almanac, as the fingers served it for a numeration table. All the world could see the moon, her changes, and her monthly revolutions ; and their mode o2 reckoning time was accommo- dated, as nearly as could possibly be done in round numbers, to- agree with the changes of that planet, their natural almanac. The moon performs her natural revolution round the earth in twenty-nine days and a half. She goes from a new moon to a half moon, to a full moon, to a half moon gibbous or convex, and then to a new moon again. Each of these changes is per- formed in seven days and nine hours ; but seven days is the nearest division in round numbers that could be taken ; and this was sufficient to suggest the universal custom of reckoning by periods of seven days, since it is impossible to reckon time without some stated period. How the odd hours could be disposed of without interfering with the regular periods of seven days, in case the ancients recommenced a new Septenary period with every new moon, required no more difficulty than it did to regulate the Egyptian Calendar afterwards of twelve months of thirty days each, or the odd hour in tha Julian Calendar, or the odd days and hours in the French Calendar. In all cases it is done by the addition of CGI. .imentary days ; and it can be done in no otherwise. The bishop knows that as the solar year does not end at the termination of what we call a day, but runs some hours into the next day, as the quarters of the Moon runs some hours Beyond seven days ; that it is impossible to give the year any number of days, that will not in course of years become BISHOP OF LLANDAFF. 229 wrong and make a complementary time necessary to keep the nominal year parallel with the solar year. The same must have been the case with those who regulated time formerly by lunar revolutions.' They would have to add three days to every second moon, or in that proportion, in order to make the new moon and the new week commence together like the nominal year and the solar year. Diodorus of Sicily, who, as before said, lived before Christ was born, in giving an account of times much anterior to his own, speaks of years of three months, of four months, and of six months. These could be of no other than years composed of lunar revolutions, and, therefore, to bring the several periods of seven days, to agree with such years there must have been complementary days. The moon was the first almanac the world knew ; and the only one which the face of the heavens afforded to common spectators. Her changes and her revolutions have entered into all the Calendars that have been known in the known world. The division of the year into twelve months, which, as before shown, was first done by the Egyptians, though arranged with astronomical knowledge, had reference to the twelve moons, or more properly speaking, to the twelve lunar revolutions that appear in the space of a solar year; as the period of seven days had reference to one revolution of the moon. The feasts of the Jews were, and those of the Christian church still are, regu- lated by the moon. The Jews observed the feasts of the new moon and full moon, and, therefore, the period of seven days was necessary to them. All the feasts of the Christian church are regulated by the moon. That called Easter governs all the rest, and the moon governs Easter. It is always the first Sunday after the first full moon that happens after the vernal Equinox, or 21st of March. In proportion as the science of astronomy was studied and improved by the Egyptians and Chaldeans, and the solar year regulated by astronomical observations, the custom of reckon- ing by lunar revolutions became of less use, and in time dis- continued. But such is the harmony of all parts of the machinery of the universe, that a calculation made from the motion of one part will correspond with the motion of some other. 230 REPLY TO THE The period of seven days deduced from the revolution of the moon round the earth, correspond nearer than any other period of days -would do to the revolution of the earth round the sun. Fifty-two periods of seven days make 364, which is within one day and some odd hours of a solar year; and there is no other periodical number that will do the same, till we come to the number thirteen, which is too great for common use, and the numbers before seven are too small. The custom, therefore, of reckoning by periods of seven days, as best suited to the revo- iMior, of the moon, applied with equal convenience to the solar y<" , and became united with it. But the decimal division of time, as regulated by the French Calendar, is superior to every other method. There is no part of the Bible that Js supposed to have been written by persons who lived before i he time of Josiah, (which was a thousand years after the timv of Moses,) that mentions anything about the sabbath as a day consecrated to that which is called the fourth commandment, or that the Jews kept any such day. Had any such day beer kept, during the thousand years of which I am speaking, i' certainly would have been mentioned frequently; and that /*-, 'ihould never be mentioned, is strong presumptive and circa/- .stantial evidence that no such day was kept. But mention if, rften made of the feasts of the new moon, and of the full irr/>v ; for the Jews, as before shown, worshipped the moon; anc* th word sabbath was applied by the Jews to the feasts of 'Jh9t planet, and to those of their other deities. It is said ir. Hosea, chap. ii. verse 11, in speak- ing of the Jewish nat'oi, " And I will cause all her mirth to cease, her feast-days, her new-moons, and her sabbatlis, and all her solemn feasts." Nobody will be so foolish as to contend that the sdbbatJm here spoken of are Mosaic sabbaths. The construction of toe verse implies they are lunar sabbaths, or sabbaths of the moon. It ought also to be observed that Hosea lived in the time of Ahaz and Hezekiah, about seventy years before the time of Josiah, when the law called the law of Moses is said to have heen found ; and, consequently, the sabbaths that Hosea speaks of are sabbaths of the idolatry. When those priestly reformers (impostors I should call th -in), Hilkiah, Ezra, and Nehemiali, began to produce books under the name of the books of Moses, they found the word Kctbbn.lh in use: and as to the period of seven days, it is, like numbering arithmetically by tens, from time immemorial. But BIS1IOP OF LLANDAFF. 231 having found them in use, they continued to make them sen e to the support of their new imposition. They trumped up a story of the creation being made in six days, and of the Creator resting on the seventh, to suit with the lunar and chronological period of seven days; and they manufactured a commandment u> agree with both. Impostors always work in this manner. Jhey put fables for originals, and causes for effects. There is scarcely any part of science, or anything in nature, rfrhich those impostors and blasphemers of science, called priests, AS well Christians as Jews, have not, at some time or other, perverted, or sought to pervert to the purpose of superstition and falsehood. Everything wonderful in appearance has been ascribed to angels, to devils, or to saints. Everything ancient has some legendary tale annexed to it. The common operations of nature have not escaped their practice of corrupting every- thing. FUTURE STATE. The idea of a future state was an universal idea to all nations except the Jews. At the time and long before Jesus Christ and the men called his disciples were born, it had been sub- limely treated of by Cicero in his book on old age, by Plato, Socrates, Xenophon, and other of the ancient theologists, whom the abusive Christian church calls heathen. Xenophon repre- sents the elder Cyrus speaking after this manner : "Think not, my dearest children, that when I depart from you, I shall be 110 more ; but remember that my soul, even while I lived among you, was invisible to you ; yet by my ac- tions you were sensible it existed in this body. Believe it therefore existing still, though it be still unseen. How quickly would the honors of illustrious men perish after death, if their souls performed nothing to preserve their fame ? For my own part, I could never think that the soul, while in a mortal body, lives, but when departed from it dies ; or that its consciousness is lost, when it is discharged out of an unconscious habitation. But when it is freed from all corporeal alliance, it is then that it truly exists." Since, then, the idea of a future existence was universal, it may be asked, what new doctrine does the New Testament con- tain? I answer, that of corrupting the theory of the ancient 232 REPLY TO THE theologists, by annexing to it the heavy and gloomy doctrine of the resurrection of the body. As to the resurrection of the body, whether the same body or another, it is a miserable conceit, fit only to be preached to man as an animal. It is not worthy to be called doctrine. Such an idea never entered the brain of any visionary but those of the Christian church; yet it is in this that the novelty of the New Testament consists. All the other matters serve but as props to this, and those props are most wretchedly put together. MIRACLES. The Christian church is full of miracles. In one of the churches of Brabant, they show a number of cannon I. alls, which, they say, the virgin Mary in some former war, caught in her muslin apron as they oam3 full of itself. Ye hypocrites ! learn to speak intelligible lan- guage. Iv happened to be a time of peace when they say f'hrist wan born ; and what then? There had been many su.-h intervals j a.nd have been many such since. Time was no fuller in uy of them than in the other. If he were he would bo (oiler QOM than he over was before. If he was full then be mast be bursting now. But peace or war have relation to circum stances, and not to time; and those Cabalists would tx 1 at aa much loss to make out any meaning to fulness of eircum stances, as to fulness of time : and if they could, it would be fatal ; for fulness of circumstances would mean, when there are no more circumstances to happen ; and fulness of time when there is no more time to follow. Christ, therefore, like every other person, was neither in the fulness of one nor the other. But though we cannot conceive the idea of fulness of time, because we cannot have conception of a time when there shall be no time ; nor of fulness of circumstances, because we can- not conceive a state of existence to be without circumstances ; we can often see, after a thing is past, if any cicourastance, necessary to give the utmost activity and success '-o that thing, was wanting at the time that thing took place. If cxioh a cir- cumstance was wanting, we may be cero 'n t" .*i '-he thing which took place, was not a thing of God'* uicMUiir-gj w'tose work is always perfect, and his means perfect iii;aus. They tell us that Christ was the Son of God ; in that cato, he vrouM havo known everything ; and he came upon earth to make known the will of God to man throughout the whole earth, [f tiua had nwi. true, Christ would have known and would havp bemi hnminhcd with all the possible means of doing it , and would have in- structed mankind, or at least his apostles, in the use of such cf the means as they could use themselves to facilitate die accom- plishment of the mission ; consequently he would have instruc- ted them in the art of printing, for the press is the tongue of the world ; and without which, his or their preaching was less than a whistle compared to thunder. Since, then, he did not do this, he had not the means necessary to the mission ; and consequently had not the mission. They tell us in the book of Acts, chap, ii., a very stupid story of the apostles' having the gift of tongues : and cloven tongues of fire descended and sat upon each of them. Perhaps 234 REPLY TO TIIE it was this story of cloven tongues that gave rise to the notion of slitting Jackdaws' tongues to make them talk. Be that how- ever as it may, the gift of tongues, even if it were true, would be but of little use without the art of printing. I can sit in my chamber, as I do while writing this, and by the aid of print- ing, can send the thoughts I am writing through the greatest part of Europe, to the East Indies, and over all North America, in a few months. Jesus Christ and his apostles could not do this. They had not the means, and the want of means detects the pretended mission. There are three modes of communication. Speaking, writ- ing and printing. The first is exceedingly limited. A man's voice can be heard but a few yards of distance ; and his person can be but in one place. Writing is much more extensive ; but the thing written can- not be multiplied but at great expense, and the multiplication will be slow and incorrect. Were there no other means of cir- culating what priests call the word of God (the Old and New Testament) than by writing copies, those copies could not be purchased at less than forty pounds sterling each ; conse- quently but few people could purchase them, while the writers could scarcely obtain a livelihood by it. "But the art of print- ing changes ail the cusvs, and opens a scene as vast as the world. It gives to man a sort of divine attribute. It gives to him mental omnipresence, lie can be everywhere and at the same instant ; for wherever lie is road he is mentally there. The case applies not only against the pretending mission of Christ and his apostles, but against everything that priests call the word of God, and against all those who protend to deli- ver it ; for had God ever delivered any verbal word, he would have taught the means of communicating it. The one without the other is inconsistent with the wisdom we conceive of the Creator. The third chapter of Genesis, verse 21, tells us that God made coats of skins and clothed Adam and Eve. It was infinitely more important that man should be taught the art of printing, than that Adam should be taught to make a pair of leather breeches, or his wife a petticoat. There is another matter, equally striking and important, that connects itself with those observations against this pretended word of God, this manufactured book, called Revealed Religion. We know that whatever is of God's doing is unalterable by man BISHOP OF LLANDAFF. 235 beyond the laws which the Creator has ordained. We cannot make a tree grow with the root in the air and the fruit in the ground ; we cannot make iron into gold noi gold into iron ; we cannot make rays of light shine forth rays of darkness, nor darkness shine forth light. If there were such a thing, as a word of God, it would possess the same properties which all hia other works do. It would resist destructive alteration. But we see that the book which they call the word of God has not this property. That book says, Genesis, chap. i. verse 27, "So God created man in his own image /' but the printer can make it say, So man created God in his own image. The words are pas- sive to every transposition of them, or can be annihilated and others put in their places. This is not the case with anything that is of God's doing ; and, therefore, this book, called the word of God, tried by the same universal rule which every other of God's works within our reach can be tried by, proves itself to be a forgery. The bishop says, that " miracles are a proper proof of a di- vine mission." Admitted. But we know that men, and espe- cially priests, can tell lies and call them miracles. It is there- fore necessary, that the thing called a miracle be proved to be tme, and also to be miraculous ; before it can be admitted as proof of the thing called revelation. The bishop must be a bad logician not to know that one doubt- ful thing cannot be admitted as proof that another doubtful thing is true. It would be like attempting to prove a liar not to be a liar by the evidence of another, who is as great a liar as himself. Though Jesus Christ, by being ignorant of the art of printing, shows he had not the means necessary to a divine mission, and consequently had no such mission ; it does not follow that if he had known that art, the divinity of what they call his mission would be proved thereby, any more than it proved the divinity of the man who invented printing. Something there- fore beyond printing, even if he had known it, was necessary as a miracle, to have proved that what he delivered was the word of God ; and this was that the book in which that word should be contained, which is now called the Old and New Testament, should possess the miraculous property, distinct from all human books, of resisting alteration. This would be not only a miracle, but an ever-existing and universal miracle ; whereas, those which they tell us of, even if they had been true, wre momentary and 236 REPLY TO THE BISHOP OF LLANDAFF. local ; they would leave no trace behind, after the lapse of a few years, of having ever existed ; but this would prove, in all ages and in all places, the book to be divine and not human ; as effectually, and as conveniently, as aquafortis proves gold to be gold by not being capable of acting upon it ; and detects all other metals and all counterfeit composition, by dissolving them. Since then the only miracle capable of every proof is wanting, and which everything that is of a divine origin possesses ; all the tales of miracles with which the Old and New Testament are filled, are fit only for impostors to preach and fools to believe. LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 237 LETTER TO ME. EESKINEJ OP 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 dishonorably of the Creator, and that belief is forced upon us, as far as force can operate by human laws and human tribunals, 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 anyone, which was its original meaning. As a word, it existed before Christianity existed, being a Greek word, or Greek anglified, as all the etymological dictionaries will show. But behold how various and contradictory has been the signi- fication and application of this equivocal word. Socrates, who lived more than four hundred years before the Christian era, was convicted of blasphemy, for preaching against the belief of a plurality of gods, and for preaching the belief of one god, and was condemned to suffer death by poison. Jesus Christ was convicted of blasphemy under the Jewish law, and was cruci- fied. Calling Mahomet an impostor would be blasphemy in Turkey; and denying the infallibility of the Pope, and the Ohurch, would be blasphemy at Rome. What then is to be * Mr. Paine has evidently incorporated into this Letter a portion of his answer to Bishop Watson's "Apology for the Bible;" as in a chapter of that work, treating of the Book of Grenesis, he expressly refers to nis re- marks, in a preceding part of the same, on the two accounts of the creation -contained in that book ; which is included in this letter. 238 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. understood by this word blasphemy 1 We see that in the case of Socrates truth was condemned as blasphemy. Are we sure that truth is not blasphemy in the present day ? Woe, how- ever, 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 is 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 reverentially to his Maker, to ascer- tain, by every possible inquiry, 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 that I may not be accused of resting upon bare assertion with respect to the equivocal state of the Bible, I will produce an example, and I wi]l 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 heavens and the earth. 2. And the earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep; and the spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. 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 the darkness. 6. And God called the light day, and the darkness he called night : and the evening and the morning were the first day. 6. U 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 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 239 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. H And God said, Let the waters under the heaven he gathered 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 together 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, whose 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. 11 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. 1 7. And God set them in the firmament of the heaven, to give light upon the earth, 18. 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. U And God said, Let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving creature that hath life, and fowl that may fly above the earth in the open firmament of heaven. 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. U And God said, Let the earth bring forth the living 240 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINlt creature 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. 51 And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our 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 in his own image, in the image of God created he him : male and female created he them. 28. And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruit- ful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it ; and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of tJie air, and over every thing that moveth upon t/ie earth. 29. 51 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 31. 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 II. 1. Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the host of them. 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 had made. 3. And God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it : be- cause that in it he had rested from all his work, which God created and made. 4. 51 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. LETTER TO MR. ERSKINK. 241 5. And every plant of the field, before it was in 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 was 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 be- came a living 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 know- ledge 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. 11. The name of the first is Pison : that is it which compas- seth 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 Gihon : 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 garden of Eden, to dress it and to keep it. 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 shalt not eat of it ; for in the day that thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die. 18. H 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. M 242 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 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 brought 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 the curious inquirer, the editor subjoins two speci- mens of the opinions of learned men, in regard to the manner of his formation, and of his subsequent fall. The first he extracts from the Talmud, a work containing the Jewish traditions, the rabbinical constitutions, and explica- tion of the law ; and is of great authority among the Jews. It was com- posed 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 contain the whole body of divinity for the Jewish nation. Although the Scriptures tell us that the Lord God "formed man of the dust of the ground, 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 ft LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 243 I begin then by saying, that those two chapters, instead of containing, as has been believed, one continued account of the handful of each of the seven beds which composed the earth. But when th latter heard the order of God, she felt much alarmed, and requested the heavenly mesenger 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 handf uls 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 AngeJ of Death. ' Meanwhile, the angels having kneaded this earth, God moulded it with liis own hands, and left it sometime 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 tilled, 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 npon 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 prepared, God ani- mated it with an intelligent soul, and clad him in splendid and marvellous garments, suited to the dignity of this favored being. He now commanded his angels to fall prostrate before Adam. All of them obeyed, with the ex- ception of Eblis, who was in consequence immediately expelled from heaven, and his place 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 man- kind, not to taste the fruit of a particular tree. Eblis seized this opportunity of revenge. Having associated the peacock and the serpent in the enter- prise, they by their wily speeches at length persuaded Adam to become guilty of disobedience. 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 labor, 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 sepa- rated 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 the enormity of his fault, implored the mercy of God, who, re- lenting, 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 sanctuary, in order that he might obtain the forgiveness of his offence, and afte-.v'ards led him to the mountain of Ararat, where he met Eve, from whom ae had been now separated above two hundred years," 244 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINB. creation, written by Moses, contain two different and contra dictory 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 Chinese account of a creation, we should not hesitate in pro nouncing 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 r 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 .two 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 beginning GOD created the heavens and the earth, and the spirit of GOD moved on the face of the waters, and GOD- said, let there be light, and GOD saw the light," &c., time the flood is said to have happened, to the time of Moses, and consequently 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. 248 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. We have here two different epochs, or points of time ; that of the flood, and that of the law of Moses ; the former more than six hundred years prior to the latter. But the nuiker 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 Mos;s was prior to the flood ; for he has made God to say to i^oah, Genesis, chap. vii. ver. 2, " Of every clean beast, thou slialt take unto thee by sevens, male and his female, and of leasts 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 nowhere 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 strange 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 Crea- tor in a more merciless character than any of those whom we call Pagans, 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 comparison of the beneficent character of the Crea- tor, with the tremendous severity of the sentence ; but when we see the story told with such an evident contradiction of cir- cumstances, we ought to set it down for nothing better than a 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 j that of having hard thoughts of the Creator, on account of the severity of the sentence ; and that of sympathis- ing in the horrid tragedy of a drowning world. He who cannot feel the force of what I mean, is not, in my estimation of char- acter, 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 contained, among other things, what is called the Mosaic law, are put in front of the Bible, in the manner of a constitution, with a history annexed to it. Had these books been written by Moses, they would undoubtedly have been the oldest bookr ir *V W'W. and entitled to be placed first, and the LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 249 law and the history they contain would be frequently 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 contains 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 22nd and 23rd chapters of the 3rd Book of Kings, and 34th chapter 2nd Chron. he will find that no such law, nor any such books were known in the time of the Jewish monarchy, and that the Jews were Pagans during the whole of that time, and of their Judges. The first time the law, called the law of Moses, made its ap- 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 2nd Chron., chap, xxxiv. ver. 14, 15, 16, 18: " Hilkiah 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 carried the book to 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 23rd chap. 2nd Kings, and thus established in blood, the law that is there called the law of Moses, and in- stituted a passover in commemoration thereof. The 22nd 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 unto 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 any like him." This verse, like the former one, is a general declaration against all the preceding kings without ex- ception. It is also a declaration against all that reigned after 250 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. him, of w ..v.,1 there were four, the whole 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 des- troyed. It is, therefore, evident that the law, called the law of Moses, of which the Jews talk so much, was promulgated and established only in the latter time of the Jewish monarchy ; and it is very remarkable, that no sooner had they established 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 massacring 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 estab- lished a law, which they called the law of the Lord given by Moses, and were destroyed. This is not opinion, but historical evi- dence. 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 that the author of the book of Joshua makes to the book of Jasher, l ls not this written in the book ofJasher ? ' 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 1 why, no other then 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 when 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. 2nd book of Sam. of the Amalekite slay- ing 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 Amalekite), and he smote him that he died : and David lamented with this lamentation over Saul and over Jonathan ms son ; also he bade them teach the children the use of the liow ; behold it is written in the book of Jasher." If the book LE1TEII TO MR. ERSKINE. 251 of Jasher were what Levi calls it, the law of Moses, written by Moses, it is not possible that anything 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 commen- tary 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 cen- nred, and our pity excited for those who believed them. "We should have vindicated the goodness of God against such a book, and preached up the disbelief of it out of reverence to him. Why then do we not act as honorably by the Creator in the one case as we 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 prevented people from examining the Bible. Those of the church of Eng- land called it holy, because the Jews called it so, and because custom and certain acts of parliament 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 rendering 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 nob. For mj 252 LETTER TO MB. EESK.INE, own part, my belief in the perfection of the Deity will not per- mit 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 Shap han 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 \vhich 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 Holy Scriptures, or Word of God. But act of parliament decide nothing with respect to God ; and as these acts of parliament making were wrong with respect to witches and wizards, they may also be wrong with respect to the book in question.* It is, therefore, necessary that the book be exam- * 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 sacriticea than the former. Catholics, when they had the ascendency, burnt Protes- tants, who, in turn, led Catholics to the stake, and both united in extermi- nating 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 scarcely seated themselves in the wilds of America, before they began to ex- terminate from the territory they had seized upon, all those who did not profess what they called the orothodox faith. Priests, Quakers, and Adam- ites, were prohibited from entering the territory, on pain of death. By priests, they meant clergymen of the lioman 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 doiic in Ocoi- land, about the same period in which the executions took place in Massa- chusetts-Bay. In England, Sir Matthew Hale, a judge eminent for extra- ordinary 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 bo tho v/ord of (rod, 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 th^t boasts so much of iti tolerant spirit. As the common law is derived from the customs of our ancestors, when in a rude and barbarous condition, ii ia not^ surprising taat many of ilj injunc- tions should be opposed to the ideas, which a society in a civilize I and re- fined state, should deem compatible with justice anil right. Accordingly we find that govr>.ment has from time to time annulled come of itj most prominent absurdities ; minh as the trials by ordeal, tho MUgec of battlo in LECTE3 TO MB. EBSffTXEL 253 ined ; it is our duty to examine it ; and to suppress the right of examination is sinful in any government, or in any judge or jury. The Bible makes God to say to Moses, Dcut. chap. vii. 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, 22nd year of Charles II. See "The Republicans," vol. 5, p. 22] William Penn was indicted at Common Law for a riot a:id 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 snail show by an extract of a letter from Thomas Jefferson to Major Cartwright, bearing date Sth June, 1824. For a more full development of this subject, see " Sampson's Anniversary Discourse, before the Historical Society of New York." EIHTO.B. 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 law. The proof of the con- trary, which you have adduced, is uncontrovertible : to wit, that the com- mon law existed while the Anglo-Saxons were yet Pagans ; at a time when they had never yet heard the name of Christ pronounced, or knew 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 a case of Qaare Impedit, in the "Year .book," 34 Henry VI. fo. 23 [Anno 1458], a question was made how far the ecclesiastical law was to be respected in a common law court. And Prisot, Chief Justice, gave his opinion in these words : ' A tiel leis, quo Us de saint eglise ont en ancien scripture, covient a noua a donner credence : cal ceo Commeju Ley sur quels touts manners leis sont f oddes. Et auxy, Sir, now Bumus obliges de conustre lour ley de saint eglise : et semblablement ils sont obliges de conustre nostre ley. Et, Sir, si poit apperer or a nous que 1'eves- que adfait come un ordinary fera en tie! cas, adong nous devons ceo adjuger bun, ou auterment nemy ,' " &c. ["To such laws as they of holy church have in ancient writing, it behoves us 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 tons, 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 incor- porated with the laws of the land, and of the same authority. See Dr. Henry's Hist. G. Britain. EUITOB. See S. C. Fitzh. abr. qu. imp. 89. Bro. abr. qu. Imp. 12. Finch in his 1st Book, c. 3, ia the first afterwards who quotes the case, and mis-states it thus : '"To puch laws of tho church as have warrant in Holy Scripture, our law giveth credence,' and cites Prisot ; mistranslating ' ancient Scripture ' Into * holy Scripture ; ' whereas Prisot palpably says. ' to such laws as those of holy church have in ancient writing, it is proper for us to give credence ; ' to wit to their ancient, written laws. This VM in 1618, a cnt--iy tod a half 254 LETTER TO MR. ERSKUVE. ver. 2, " And when the Lord thy God shall deliv:r them be.oro thee, thou slialt smite them and utterly destroy the^, thou shalt make no covenant with them, nor show mercy unto tJiem." 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 Robespierrean 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 sv.ch a book to be the word of God. There have been, and still are, those, who, whilst they profess to believe the Bible to be the work 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 itself, 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 afterwards by priests and commentators. Not one of those who have attempted to write answers to the- 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 167n, copies the flame mistranslation, quoting the Y. B. Finch and Wingate. Hale expresses it in these words : ' Christianity is parcel of the law of England ' 1 Ventris 293. Keb. 607, but quotes no authority. By these echoings and re-echoing* from one to another, it had become so established in 1728, that in the casffof the King vs. Woolstpn. 2 Stra. 834, the court would not suffer it to be de- bated, whether to write against Christianity was punishable in the temporal court at common law. Wood, therefore, 409, ventures still to vary th& phrase, and say, 'that all blasphemy and profaneness are offences by the- common law ;' and cites 2 Stra. Then Blackstone, 1763, iv. 59, repeats the words of Hale, that 'Christianity is part of the law of England, 'citing Ven- tris and Strange. And finally, Lord Mansfield, with a little qualification, in Evans' 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 m almost every part of it. THOMAS PAINK. CONTRADICTORY DOCTRINES IN NEW TESTAMENT. 277 CONTRADICTORY DOCTRINES IN THE NEW TESTAMENT, BETWEEN MATTHEW AND MASK. 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 entirely on believing, or on what Christians call faith. But the 25th chapter of The gospel according to Matthew makes Jesus Christ to preach a direct contrary doctrine to The Gospel according to Mark ; for it makes salvation, or the future happiness of man, to depend entirely on good works ; 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 righteous and the unrighteous, metaphorically 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 " " Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungered and fed thee, or thirsty and gave thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger and took thee in, or naked and clothed theel Or when saw we thee sick and in prison, and came unto thee ? "And the king shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, in as much as ye have done it unto one of the least of thes" 'my brethren, ye have done it unto me." 278 CONTRADICTORY DOCTRINES IN NEW TESTAMENT. Here is nothing about believing in Christ nothing about that phantom of the imagination called Faith. The works here spoken of, are works of humanity and benevolence, or, in other words, an endeavor to make God's creation happy Here is nothing about preaching and making long prayers, as if God must be dictated to by man; nor about building churches and meeting-houses, nor hiring priests to pray and preach in them. Here is nothing about predestination, that lust which seme 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 con- tained in this chapter? The answer is easy ; they are not fond of practising it themselves. It does not answer for their trade They had rather get* than give- Charity with them begins and ends at home. Had it been said, Come ye blessed, ye have been liberal in paying the preachers of the word ye have contributed largely towards building churches and meeting-houses^ there is not a hired priest in Christendom but would have thundered it con- tinually 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. THOUGHTS ON A FUTURE STAlJK. 279 MY PRIVATE THOUGHTS ON A FUTURE STATIC. I HAVE said, in the first part of the tf ^ge of Re^cn," that "/ hopejor happiness after this life." llis hope is comfortable to me, and I presume not to go beyond the comfortable idea of hope, with respect to a future state. I consider myself in the hands of my Creator, and that he will dispose of me after this life consistently with his justice and goodness. I leave all these matteis to him, as my Creator and friend, and I hold it to be praiuinption in man to make an article of faith as to what the Creacor will do with us here- after. 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 eto/ual existence hereafter. It is in his power to do so, or not co do so, and it is not in our power to decide which he will do. The book called the New Tebtament, which I hold to be fabulous and have shown to be /alse, 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 un- righteous, figuratively 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 everlasting 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 the one into the other, in such a manner that no fixed point of division can be found in either. That point is nowhere, or is everywhere. 280 THOUGHTS ON A FUTURE STATE. 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 differ- ence is marked by their external 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 endeavoring to make their fellow-mortaU, happy, for this is the only way in which we can serve God, will 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 wifch the reason that God has given me. THOMAS PAINE. LETTER TO CAMILLE JORDAN. 281 LETTER TO CAMILLE JORDAN, ONE OP THK COUNCIL OP FIVE HUNDRED, OCCASIONED BY HIS REPORT ON THE PRIESTS, PUBLIC WORSHIP, AND THE BELLS. CITIZEN REPRESENTATIVE, As everything in your report, relating to what you call worship, connects itself with the books called the Scriptures, I begin with a quotation therefrom. It may serve to give us some idea of' the fanciful origin and fabrication of those books. 2 Chronicles, chap, xxxiv. ver. 14, etc. "Hilkiah, the priest, found the book of the law of the Lord given by Moses. And Hilkiah, the priest, said to Shaphan, the scribe, I have found the book of the law in the house of the Lord, and Hilkiah -delivered the book to Shaphan. And Shaphan, the scribe, told the king (Josiah), saying, Hilkiah, the priest hath given me a book." This pretended finding was about a thousand years after the time that Moses is said to have lived. Before this pretended finding, there was no such thing practised or known in the world as that which is called the law of Moses. This being the case, there is every apparent evidence that the books called the books of Moses (and which make the first part of what are called the Scriptures) and forgeries contrived between a priest and a limb,* Hilkiah, and Shaphan, the scribe, a thousand years after Moses is said to have been dead. Thus much for the first part of the Bible. Every other part is marked with circumstances equally suspicious. We ought, therefore, to be reverentially careful how we ascribe books as his word, of which there is no evidence, and against which there is abundant evidence to the contrary, and every cause to suspect imposition. In your report you speak continually of something by the * It happens that Camille Jordan is a limb of the law. 282 LETTER TO CAMILLE JORDAN. name of worship, and you confine yourself to speak of one kind only, as if there were but one, and that one was unquestionably true. The modes of worship are as various as the sects are numerous; and amidst all this variety and multiplicity there is but one article of belief in which every religion in the world agrees. That article has universal sanction. It is the belief of a God, or what the Greeks described by the word Theism, and the Latins by that of Deism. Upon this one article have been erected all the different super-structures of creeds and ceremonies continually warring with each other that now exist or ever existed. Bnt the men most and best informed upon the subject of theology, rest themselves upon this universal article, and hold all the various super-structures erected there- on, to be at least doubtful, if not altogether artificial. The intellectual part of religion is a private affair between every man and his Maker, and in which no third party has any right to interfere. The practical part consists in our doing good to each other. But since religion has been made into a trade, the practical part has been made to consist of ceremonies performed by men called priests; and the people have been amused with ceremonial shows, processions, and bells.* By devices of this kind true religion has been banished and such means have been found out to extract money even from the pockets of the poor, instead of contributing to their relief. * The precise date of the invention of bells cannot be traced. The ancients, it appears from Martial, Juvenal, Suetonius and others, had an article named tintinnabula, (usually translated bell), by which the Romans were summoned to their baths and public places. It seems most probable, that the description of bells now used in churches, were invented about the year 400, and generally adopted before the commencement of the seventh century. Previous to their invention, however, sounding brass, and sometimes basins, were used ; and to the present day the Greek church have boards, or iron plates, full of holes, which they strike with a hammer, or mallet, to summon the priests and others to divine service. We 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 thought necessary to baptize them in a solemn manner, which appears to have been first none by Pope John XII. A.D. 968. A record of this practice still exists in the Tom of Lincoln, 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 LETTER TO CAMILLE JORDAN. 283 No man ought to make a living by religion. It is dishonest so to do. Religion is not an act that can be performed 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 provide 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 matters 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 res- pect, in more than a doubtful predicament. They have been held in existence, and in a sort of credit among the common class of people, by art, terror, and persecution. They have lit- tie or no credit among the enlightened part, but they have been made the means of encumbering the world with a numerous used at rejoicings, and high festivals in the church (for the purpose of driv- ing away any evil spirit which might be in the neighborhood) as well as on the 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, ia totally different from its original institution. It appears to have been used as early as the 7th century, when bells were first generally used, and to have been denominated the soul bell fas it signified the departing of the soul), as also, the passing bell. Thus Wheatly tells 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 tolled 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 clergyman, 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 neighbor. 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 the revenue of the church. The priesthood having removed the objection, bells were again tolled, upon payment of the custom- ary fees. English Paper, 284 LETTER TO CAMILLE JORDAN. 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 hopitals, and aged and infirm poor in the streets, from want of necessaries. The abundance that France produces is sufficient for every want, if rightly ap- plied ; 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 the 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 iaith and practice. In countries under despotic governments, where inquiry 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 ri vetted again, let us employ a part of the liberty we enjoy in scrutinizing into the truth. Let us leave behind us some monument, that we have made the cause and honor 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 ex- amining into the case. His name is too sacred to be affixed to anything 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 in- vite 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 books, and we know that arti- fice and superstition could give them a name ; could call them sacred. But we ought to be careful that the name of our Crea- LETTER TO CAMILLE JORDAN. 285 tor be not 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 education of their children. I am a descendant of a family of that profession; my father was a Quaker; and I pre- sume I may be admitted an evidence of what I assert. The seeds of good principles, and the literary means of advancement in the world, are laid in early life. Instead, therefore, of con- suming 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 not the means of doing it them- selves. One good schoolmaster is of 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 morals of the nation. Their pretended celibacy led them to carry debauchery and domestic infidelity into every family where they could gain admission; and their blasphemous pre- tensions to forgive sins, encouraged the commission of them. Why has the Revolution of France been stained with crimes which the Revolution of the United States of America was not ? Men are physically 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 exclu- sively to any 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 therefrom be invested as a fund for the education of children of poor parents of every profession, and, if more than 286 LETTER TO CAMILLE JORDAN. sufficient for this purpose, 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 with- out priests, as the Quakers do. As to the bells, they are a public nuisance. If one profession is to have bells, 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 becomes a scene of general confusion. But if we per- mit ourselves to think 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 in- commodes anybody; 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 occupa- tions, and no sectary has a right to incommode them If any one has, every other has the same ; and the meeting of varioua and contradictory 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 incom moding 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 advocate, 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 sun- shine of prosperity is breathing forth after a long and stormy- night. The firmness of your colleagues, and of those you have- LETTER TO CAMILLE JORDAN. 287 succeeded the unabated energy of the Directory, and the un- equalled bravery of the armies of the Republic, have made the way smooth and easy to you. If you look back at the difficul- ties that existed when 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 retire- ment. 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 wrong end. The defenders of your country, and the deplor- able 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 em- barrasses the Directory in making it, and serves to prevent it. Had you been an actor in all the scenes of government from its commencement, you would have been too well informed to have brought forward projects that operate to encourage the enemy. When you arrived at a share in the government, you found every thing tending 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 agitate and anarchize the in- terior, 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 REPUB- LIC, the GOVERNMENT OP 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 represen- tation. 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 dom- ineer as before ; she would retrieve her shattered finances at your expense, 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 ; 288 LETTER TO CAMILLE JORDAN. and those terras will be better or worse, in proportion as France and her councils be united or divided. That the goveinment of England counts much upon your report, and upon others of a similar tendency, is what the writer of this letter, who knows that government well, has no doubt. You are but new on the theatre of government, and you ought to suspect yourself of misj udging ; 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 yourselves that must bear the censure. You conclude your report by the following address to your colleagues : " Let us hasten, representatives of the people ! to affix to- these tutelary laws the seal of our unanimous approbation. All our fellow-citizens will learn to cherish political liberty from the enjoyment of religious liberty : you will have broken the most powerful arm of your enemies ; you will have sur- rounded this assembly with the most impregnant rampart confidence, and the people's love. O ! 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 Blessings reward you men of mace t you have restored to us our temples our minis- ters the liberty of adoring the God of our fathers : 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 regime such as to justify anything you say of them ? Were not all France convinced of their immorality? Were they not considered as the patrons of debauchery and domestic infidelity, and not as the patrons of morals ] What was their pretended celibacy but perpetual adultery ? What was their blasphemous pretentious 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 overspread the republic with English pensioners ? It is cheaper to corrupt than to conquer ; and the English government, uru-W< to onoufir. wil] toop to corrupt. LETTER TO CAMILLE JORDAN. 2S> 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 all that we could have wished. Let us hasten to take into con- sideration the honours and rewards due to our brave defenders. Let us hasten to give encouragement to agriculture and manu- factures, that commerce may reinstate itself, and our people have employment. Let us review the condition of the suffer- ing poor, and wipe from 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 propa- gate morality, unfettered by superstition Let us cultivate justice and benevolence, that the God of our fathers raay bless us. The helpless infant and the aged poor cry to us to remem- ber 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 justice and honor to our brave defenders. You have en- couraged agriculture cherished our decayed manufactures given new life to commerce, and employment to our people. You have removedfrom our country the reproach of forgetting the poor You have caused the cry of the orphan to cease You have wiped 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. Wel- come among us, ye brave and virtuous representatives / and may your example be followed by your successors /" THOMAS PAINE. PARIS, J797. 290 DISCOURSE TO THE SOCIETY A DISCOURSE DELIVERED TO THE SOCIETY OF THEOPHILANTHROPISTS AT PARIS. RELIGION has two principal enemies, Fanaticism and Infidelity, or that which is called atheism. The first requires to be com- bated by reason and morality, the other by natural philosophy. 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 sub- limely, the subject is inexhaustible ; and there will always re- main 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 existence are to be sought and to be found. As to written or printed 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 some- thing 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, in 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 ? "We see it in the immensity of the Creation. Do we want to contemplate his wisdom 1 We see it in the unchangeable order by which the in- comprehensible WHOLE is governed. Do we want to contem- plate his munificence 1 We see it in the abundance with which he fills the earth. Do we want to contemplate his mercy ? We ee it in his not withholding that abundance even from the un- OF THEOPHILANTHROPISTS. 291 thankfut In fine, do we want to know what God is ? Search not written nor printed books ; but the scripture called the Creation. It has been the error of the schools to teach astronomy, and all the other sciences, and subjects of natural philosophy, as accomplishments only ; whereas they should be taught theolo- gically, 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 extensive genius and talents of the artists. When we study the elements of geometry, we think of Euclid. When he 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 hav- ing 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 theo logy should be studied in the works or books of the Creation. The study of theology in books of opinions has often produced fanaticism, rancor, and cruelty of temper; and from hence have proceeded the numerous persecutions, the fanatical quarrels, the religious burnings and massacres, that have desolated Europe. But the study of theology in the works of the Creation produces a direct contrary effect. The mind becames at once enlightened and serene; a copy of the scene it beholds: information and adoration go hand in hand; and all the social faculties become enlarged. The evil that has resulted from the error of the schools, in teaching natural philosophy as an accomplishment only, has been that of generating in the pupils a species of atheism. In- stead of looking through the works of the Creation, to the Cre- ator himself, they stop short, and employ the knowledge the} acquire to create doubts of his existence. They labor with 292 DISCOURSE TO THE SOCIETY studied ingenuity to ascribe everything 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 existence 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 stil remains, how came matter by those properties? 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 circumstance that is not a property of matter, and with- out which the universe, or, to speak in a limited degree, the solar system, composed 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 over- thrown, and the existence of a superior cause, or that which man calls God, becomes discoverable, as is before said, by natu- ral 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 property of matter, and with- out this motion, the solar system could not exist. Were mo- tion a property of matter, that undiscovered and undiscoverable thing called perpetual motion would establish itself. It is be- cause 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 pro- duce 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. Motion, or change of place, is the effect of an external cause acting upon matter. As to that faculty of matter that is called gravitation, it is the influence which two or more bodies have reciprocally on each other to unite and to be at rest. Every- thing which has 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. Gravita- tion, so far from being the cause of motion to the planets that OF THEOPHILANTHROPISTS. 293 compose the solar system, would be the destructior of the solai 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 prevents 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 decompo- sition, 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 pre- servation, 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 matter, nor any, nor all the properties of matter can account ; we are by necessity forced into the rational and comfortable belief of the existence of a cause superior to matter, and that cause man calls God. As to that which is called nature, it is no other than the laws by which motion and action of every kind, with respect to unintelligible matter is regulated. And when we speak of looking through nature up to nature's God, we speak philo- sophically the same rational language as when we speak of looking through human laws up to the power that ordained them. God is the power or first cause, nature is the law, and matter is the subject acted upon. But infidelity, by ascribing every phenomenon to properties of matter, conceives a system for which it cannot account, and yet it pretends to demonstration. It reasons from what it sees on the surface of the earth, but it does not carry itself to the solar system existing by motion. It sees upon the sipffcce perpetua 1 decomposition and recomposition of matter. lit *4 294 DISCOURSE TO THE SOCIETY that an oak produces an acorn, an acorn an oak, a bird an egg, an egg a bird, and so on. In things of this kind it sees some- thing which it calls natural cause, but none of the causes it sees is the cause of that motion which preserves the solar system. Let us contemplate this wonderful and stupendous system consisting of matter and existing by motion. It is not matter in a state of rest, nor in a state of decomposition or re-com- position. It is matter systematized in perpetual orbicular or circular motion. As a system that motion is the life of it, as animation is life to an animal body; deprive the system of motion, and, as a system, it must expire. Who then breathed into the system the life of motion? What power impelled the planets to move, since motion is not a property of the matter of which they are composed ? If we contemplate the immense velocity of this motion, our wonder becomes increased, and our adoration enlarges itself in the same proportion. To instance only one of the planets, that of the earth we inhabit, its dis- tance from the sun, the centre of the orbits of all the planets, is, according to observations of the transit of the planet Venus, about one hundred million miles; consequently, the diameter of the orbit, or circle in which the earth moves round the sun, is double that distance ; and the measure of the circumference of the orbit, taken as three times its diameter, is six hundred million miles. The earth performs this voyage in 365 days and some hours, and consequently moves at the rate of more than one million six hundred thousand miles every twenty-four hours. Where will infidelity, where will atheism find cause for this astonishing velocity of motion, never ceasing, never varying, and which is the preservation of the earth in its orbit ? It is not by reasoning from an acorn to an oak, or from any change in the state of matter on the surface of the earth, that this can be accounted for. Its cause is not to be found in matter, nor in anything we call nature. The atheist who affects to reason, and the fanatic who rejects reason, plunge themselves alike into inextricable difficulties. The one perverts the sublime and enlightening study of natural philosophy into a deformity of absurdities by not reasoning to the end. The other loses him- self in the obscurity of metaphysical theories, and dishonors the Creator, by treating the study of his works with contempt. The one is a half-rational of whom there is some hope, the other a visionary to whom we must be charitable. OF THEOPHTLANTHROPISTS. 295 When at first thought we think of the Creator, our ideas appear to us undefined and confused; but if we reason philo- sophically, those ideas can be easily arranged and simplified. It is a Being whose power is equal to his will. Observe the nature of the will of man. It is of an infinite quality. We cannot conceive the possibility of limits to the will. Observe on the other hand, how exceedingly limited is his power of act- ing, compared with the nature of his will. Suppose the power equal to the will, and man would be a God. He would will himself eternal, and be so. He could will a creation, and could make it. In this progressive reasoning, we see in the nature of the will of man, half of that which we conceive of thinking of God ; add the other half, and we have the whole idea of a being who could make the universe, and sustain it by perpetual motion; because he could create that motion. We know nothing of the capacity of the will of animals, but we know a great deal of the difference of their powers. For example, how numerous are their degrees, and how immense is the difference of power from a mite to a man. Since then everything we see below us shows a progression of power, where is the difficulty in supposing that there' is, at the summit of all things, a Being in whom an infinity of power unites with the infinity of the will. When this simple idea presents itself to our mind, we have the idea of a perfect Being that man calls God. It is comfortable to live under the belief of the existence of an infinitely protecting power ; and it is an addition to that comfort to know that such a belief is not a mere conceit of the imagination, as many of the theories that are called religious are ; nor a belief founded only on tradition or received opinion, but is a belief deducible by the action of reason upon the things that compose the system of the universe : a belief arising out of visible facts : and so demonstrable is the truth of this be- lief, that if no such belief had existed, the persons who now controvert it would have been the persons who would have produced and propagated it, because, by beginning to reason, they would have been led on to reason progressively to the end, and, thereby, have discovered that matter and all the properties it has, will not account for the system of the universe, and that there must necessarily be a superior cause. It was the excess to which imaginary systems of religion had been carried, and the intolerance, persecutions, burnings 290 DISCOURSE TO THE SOCIETY and massacres, they occasioned, that first induced certain per- sons to propagate infidelity ; thinking, that upon the whole, it was better not to believe at all, than to believe a multitude of things and complicated creeds, that occasioned so much mischief in the world. But those days are past : persecution has ceased, and the antidote then set up against it has no longer even the shadow of an apology. We profess, and we proclaim in peace, the pure, unmixed, comfortable, and rational belief of a God, as manifested to us in the universe. We do this without any apprehension of that belief being made a cause of persecution as other beliefs have been, or of suffering persecution ourselves. To God, and not to man, are all men to account for their belief. It has been well observed at the first institution of this society that the dogmas it professes to believe, are from the commencement of the world ; that hey are not novelties, but are confessedly the basis of all systems of religion, however numerous and contradictory they may be All men in the outset of the religion they profess are Theophilanthropists. It is impossible to form any system of religion without build- ing upon those principles, and, therefore, they are not sectarian principles, unless we suppose a sect composed of all the world. I have said in the course of this discourse, that the study of natural philosophy is a divine study, because it is the study of the works of God in the Creation. If we consider theology upon this ground; what an extensive field of improvement in things both divine and human opens itself before us. All the principles of science are of divine origin. It was not man that invented the principles on which astronomy, and every branch of mathematics are founded and studied. It was not man that gave properties of the circle and triangle. Those principles are eternal and immutable. We see in them the unchangeable nature of the Divinity. We see in them immortality, an im- mortality existing after the material figures that express those properties are dissolved in dust. The society is at present in its infancy, and its means are 8m all ; but I wish to hold in view the subject I allude to, and instead of teaching the philosophical branches of learning as ornamental accomplishments only, as they have hitherto been taught, to teach them in a manner that shall combine theologi- cal knowledge with scientific instruction ; to do this to the best advantage, some instruments will be necessary for the purpose of explanation, of which the society is not yet possessed. But as OF THEOPHILANTHBOPISTS. 2U7 the views of the society extend to public good, as well as to that of the individual, and as its principles can have no ene- mies, means may be devised to procure them. If we unite to the present instruction, a series of lectures on the ground I have mentioned, we shall, in the first place render theology the most delightful and entertaining of all studies. In the next place we shall give scientitic instruction to those who could not otherwise obtain it. The mechanic of every profession will there be taught the mathematical princi- ples necessary to render him a proficient in his art. The culti- vator will there see developed the principles of vegetation: while, at the same time, they will be led to see the hand of God in all these things. 298 REMARKS ON ROBERT HALI/S SERMONS. REMARKS ON EGBERT HALL'S SEKMONS. ROBERT HALL, a protestant minister in England, preached and published a sermon against what he calls " Modern Infi- delity" A copy of it was sent to a gentleman in America, with a request for his opinion thereon. That gentleman sent it to a friend of his in New York, with the request written on the cover and this last sent it to Thomas Paine, who wrote the following observations on the blank leaf at the end of the sermon : The preacher of the foregoing sermon speaks a great deal about infidelity, but does not define what he means by it. His harangue is a general exclamation. Every thing, I suppose, that is not in his creed is infidelity with him, and his creed is infidelity with me. Infidelity is believing falsely. If what Christians believe is not true, it is the Christians that are the infidels. The point between deists and Christians is not about doc- trine, but about facts for if the things believed by the chris- tians to be facts, are not facts, the doctrine founded thereon falls of itself. There is such a book as the Bible, but is it a fact that the Bible is revealed religion ? The Christians cannot prove it is. They put tradition in place of evidence, and tra- dition is not proof. If it were, the reality of witches could be proved by the same kind of evidence. The bible is a history of the times of which it speaks, and history is not revelation. The obscene and vulgar stories in the bible are as repugnant to our ideas of the purity of a divine being, as the horrid cruelties and murders it ascribes to him are repugnant to our ideas of his justice. It is the reverence of the Deists for the attributes of the DEITY that causes them to reject the bible. Is the account which the Christian church gives of the per- son called Jesus Christ a fact or a fable 1 Is it a fact that he was begotten by the Holy Ghost ? The Christians cannot prove REMARKS ON ROBERT HALI/S SERMONS. 299 it, for the case does not admit of proof. The things called miracles in the bible, such, for instance, as raising the dead, admitted, if true, of ocular demonstration, but the story of the conception of Jesus Christ in the womb is a case beyond miracle, for it did not admit of demonstration. Mary, the re- puted mother of Jesus, who must be supposed to know best, never said so herself, and all the evidence of it is, that the book of Matthew says, that Joseph dreamed an angel told him so. Had an old maid of two or three hundred years of age, brought forth a child, it would have been much better presump- tive evidence of a supernatural conception, than Matthew's story of Joseph's dream about his young wife. Is it a fact that Jesus Christ died for the sins of the world, and how is it proved ? If a God he could not die, and as a man he could not redeem, how then is this redemption proved to be fact 1 ? It is said that Adam eat of the forbidden fruit, commonly called an apple, and thereby subjected himself and all his pos- terity for ever to eternal damnation. This is worse than visit- ing the sins of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generations. But how was the death of Jesus Christ to affect or alter the case? Did God thirst for blood? If so, would it not have been better to have crucified Adam at once upon the forbidden tree, and made a new man ? Would not this have been more creator-like than repairing the old one ? Or, did God, when he made Adam, supposing the story to be true, exclude himself from the right of making another? Or impose on himself the necessity of breeding from the old stock ? Priests should first prove facts, and deduce doctrines from them afterwards. But, instead of this they assume everything and prove nothing. Authorities drawn from the bible are no more than authorities drawn from other books, unless it can be proved that the bible is revelation. This story of the redemption will not stand examination. That man should redeem himself from the sin of eating an apple, by commiting a murder on Jesus Christ, is the strangest system of religion ever set up. Deism is perfect purity compared with this. It is an established principle with the quakers not to shed blood suppose, then, all Jerusalem had been quakers when Christ lived, there would have been nobody to crucify him, and in that case if man is redeemed by his blood, which is the belief of the church, there could have been no redemption and the people of Jerusalem must all have been damned, because they 300 REMARKS ON ROBERT HALL'S SERMONS. were too good to commit murder. The Christian system of re- ligion is an outrage on common sense. Why is man afraid to think? Why do not the Christians, to be consistent, make saints of Judas and Pontius Pilate, for they were the persons who ac- complished the act of salvation. The merit of a sacrifice, if there can be any merit in it, was never in the thing sacrificed, but in the persons offering up the sacrifice and, therefore, Judas and Pontius Pilate ought to stand first on the calendar of saints, THOMAS PAINE. OF THE WORD KELIG1ON. 301 OF THE WORD RELIGION, IND OTHER WORDS OF UNCERTAIN SIGNIFICATION. IAIE word religion is a word of forced application when used *'ith respect to the worship of God. The root of the word is the lafcin verb ligo, to tie or bind. From lirjo comes religo, to tie or b.'nd over again, or make more fast from religo conies substankVe religio, which, with the addition of n makes the English sv bstantive religion. The French use the word properly when a \r oman enters a convent she is called a noviciat, that is, she is upon trial or probation. . When she takes the oath, she called a jligieuse, that is, she is tied or bound by that oath to the performance of it. We use the word in the same kind of sense when we jay we will religiously perform the promise that we make. But the word, *dthout referring to its etymology, has, in the manner it is use-x no definitive meaning, because it does not designate what reugion a man is of. There is the religion of the Chinese, of the Tartars, of the Bramins, of the Persians, of the Jews, of the Turis, etc. The word Christianity is equally as vague as the word reli- gion. No two sectaries can agree what it is. It is a lo here and lo there. The two principal sectaries, Papists and Protes- tants,, have often cut eacL other's throats about it: The Papists call the Protestants heretic^, and the Protestants call the Papists idolaters. The minor secta/ies have shown the same spirit oi rancor, but, as the civil law restrains them from blood, they content themselves with preaching damnation against each other. The word protestant has a pv^itive signification in the sense it is used. It means protesting against the authority of the Pope, and this is the only article in which the protestants agree. In every other sense, with respect to religion, the word pro- testant is as vague as the word Christian. When we say an episcopalian, a presbyterian, a baptist, a quaker, we know what those persons are and what tenets they hold but when we say a Christian, we know he is not a Jew nor a Mahometan, but we know not if he be a trinitarian or a" anti trinitarian, or a be 302 OF THtJ WORD RELIGION. liever in what is called the immaculate conception, or a disbe- liever, a man of seven sacraments, or of two sacraments, or of none. The word Christian describes what a man is not, but not what he is. The word Theology, from Theos, the Greek word for God, and meaning the study and knowledge ef God, is a word, that strictly speaking, belongs to Theists or Deists, and not to the Christians. The head of the Christian church is the person called Christ but the head of the church of the Theists or Deists, as they are more commonly called, from Deiis, the latin word for God, is God himself, and therefore the word Theology belongs to that church which has Theos, or God, for its head, and not to the Christian church which has the person called Christ for its head. Their technical word is Christianity, and they cannot agree what Christianity is. The words revealed 'religion, and natwral religion, require also explanation. They are both invented terms, contrived by the church for the support of priestcraft. With respect to the first, there is no evidence of any such thing, except in the uni- versal revelation that God has made of his power, his wisdom, his goodness, in the structure of the universe, and in all the works of creation. We have no cause or ground from any thing we behold in those works, to suppose God would deal partially by mankind, and reveal knowledge to one nation and withhold it from another, and then damn them for not know- ing it. The sun shines an equal quantity of light all over the world and mankind in all ages and countries are endued with reason, and blessed with sight, to read the visible works of God in the creation, and so intelligent is this book that he that runs may read. We admire the wisdom of the ancients, yet they had no bibles, nor books, called revelation. They cultivated the reason that God gave them, studied him in his works, and arose to eminence. As to the Bible, whether true or fabulous, it is a history, and history is not revelation. If Solomon had seven hundred wives, and three hundred concubines, and if Samson slept in Delilah's lap, and she cut his hair off, the relation of those things is mere history, that needed no revelation from heaven to tell it; neither does it need any revelation to tell us that Samson was a fool for his pains, and Solomon too. As to the expressions so often used in the Bible, that the word of the Lord came to such an one, or such an one, it was OF THE WORD RELIGION. 303 the fashion of speaking in those times, like the expression used by a Quaker, that the spirit moveth him, or that used by priests, that they have a call. We ought not to be deceived by phrases because they are ancient. But if we admit the supposition that God would condescend to reveal himself in words we ought not to believe it would be in such idle and profligate stories as are in the Bible, and it is for this reason, among others which our reverence to God inspires, that the Deists deny that the book called the Bible is the word of God, or that it is revealed religion. With respect to the term natural religion, it is, upon the face of it, the opposite of artificial religion, and it is impossible for any man to be certain that what is called revealed religion is not artificial. Man has the power of making books, invent- ing stories of God, and calling them revelation, or the word of God. The Koran exists as an instance that this can be done, and we must be credulous indeed to suppose that this is the only instance, and Mahomet the only impostor. The Jews could match him, and the church of Rome could overmatch the Jews. The Mahometans believe the Koran, the Christians be- lieve the Bible, and it is education makes all the difference. Books, whether Bibles or Korans, carry no evidence of being the work of any other power than man. It is only that which man cannot do that carries the evidence of being the work of a superior power. Man could not invent and make a universe he could not invent nature, for nature is of divine origin. It is the laws by which the universe is governed. When, there- fore, we look through nature up to nature's God, we are in the right road of happiness, but when we trust to books as the word of God, and confide in them as revealed religion, we are afloat on the ocean of uncertainty, and shatter into contending factions. The term, therefore, natural religion, explains itself to be divine religion, and the term revealed religion involves in it the suspicion of being artificial. To show the necessity of understanding the meaning of words, I will mention an instance of a minister, I believe of the Epis- copalian church of Newark, in Jersey. He wrote and published a book, and entitled it, "An Antidote to Deism." An antidote to Deism must be Atheism. It has no other antidote for what can be an antidote to the belief of a God, but the disbelief of God. Under the tuition of such pastors, what but ignorance >and false information can be expected, T. P. 304 OF CAIN AND ABEL. OF 01IN AND ABEL. THE story of Cain and Abel is told in the fourth ^^.f^pfae of Genesis; Cain was the elder brother, and Abel if a younger, and Cain killed Abel. The Egyptian story ot 'j'ypnon and Osiris, and the Jewish story, in Genesis, of Cain and Abel, have the appearance of being the same scory differently told, and that it came originally from Egypt. In the Egyptian story, Typhon and Osiris are brothers; iyphon is the elder, and Osiris the younger, and Typhon kills Osiris. The story is an allegory on darkness and light; Typhon, the elder brother, is darkness, because darkness was supposed to be more ancient than light; Osiris is the good light who rules during the summer months, and Drings forth the fruits of the earth, and is the favorite, as Abel is said to have been, for which Typhon hates him; and when the winter comes, and cold and darkness overspread the earth, Typhon is represented as having killed Osiris out of malice, as Cain is said to have killed Abel. The two stories are alike in their circumstances and their event, and are probably but the same story ; what corroborates this opinion is that the fifth chapter of Genesis historically con- tradicts the reality of the story of Cain and Abel in the fourth chapter, for though the name of Seth, a son of Adam, is men- tioned in the fourth chapter, he is spoken of in the fifth chapter as if he was the first born of Adam. The chapter begins thus: " This is the book of the generations of Adam. In the day that God created man, in the likeness of God created, he him. Male and female created he them, and blessed them, and called their name Adam in the day when they were created. And Adam lived an hundred and thirty years and begat a son, in his own likeness and after his own image, and called his name Seth" The rest of the chapter goes on with the genealogy. Anybody reading this chapter, cannot suppose there were any sons born before Seth. Tho chapter begins with what is OF CAIN AND ABEL. 30. r > called the creation of Adam, and calls itself the book of the generations of Adam, yet no mention is made of such persons as Cain and Abel; one thing, however, is evident on the face of these two chapters, which is, that the same person is not the writer of both; the most blundering historian could not have committed himself in such a manner. Though I look on everything in the first ten chapters of Genesis to be fiction, yet fiction historically told should be con- sistent, whereas these two chapters are not. The Cain and Abel of Genesis appear to be no other than the ancient Egyptian story of Typhon and Osiris, the darkness and the light, which answered very well as an allegory without being believed as a fact. 306 THE TOWER OF BABEL. THE TOWER OF BABEL. THE story of the tower of Babel is told in the eleventh chapter of Genesis. It begins thus: "And the whole earth (it was but a very little part of it they knew) was of one language and of one speech. And it came to pass as they journeyed from the east, that they found a plain in the land of Shinar, and they dwelt there. And they said one to another, Go to, let us make brick and burn them thoroughly, and they had brick for stone, and slime had they for mortar. And they said, go to, let us build a city, and a tower whose top may reach unto heaven, and let us make us a name, lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth. And the Lord came down to see the city and the tower which the children of men builded. And the Lord said, behold the people is one, and they have all one language, and this they begin to do, and now nothing will be restrained from them which they have imagined to do. Go to, let us go down and there confound their language, that they may not understand one another's speech. So (that is, by that means) the Lord scattered them abroad from thence upon the face of all the earth, and they left off building the city." This is the story, and a very foolish inconsistent story it is. In the first place, the familiar and irreverent manner in which the Almighty is spoken of in this chapter, is offensive to a serious mind. As to the project of building a tower whose top should reach to heaven, there never could be a people so foolish as to have such a notion; but to represent the Almighty as jealous of the attempt, as the writer of the story has done, is adding pro- fanation to folly. " Go to," say the builders, " let us build us a tower whose top shall reach to heaven." " Go to," says God, " let us go down and confound their language." This quaintness is indecent, and the reason given for it is worse, for, "now no- thing will be restrained from them which they have imagined to do." This is representing the Almighty as jealous of their getting into heaven. The story is too ridiculous, even as a fable, THE TOWER OF BABEL. 307 to account for the diversity of languages in the -world, for which it seems to have been intended. As to the project of confounding their language for the pur- pose of making them separate, it is altogether inconsistent; be- cause, instead of producing this effect, it would, by increasing their difficulties, render them more necessary to each other, and cause them to keep together. Where could they go to better themselves ? Another observation upon this story is, the inconsistency of it with respect to the opinion that the Bible is the word of God given for the information of nankind; for nothing could so ef- fectually prevent such a word being known by mankind as con- founding their language. The people, who after this spoke different languages, could no more understand such a word gen- erally, than the builders of Babel could understand one another. It would have been necessary, therefore, had such word ever been given or intended to be given, that the whole earth should be, as they say it was at first, of one language and of one speech, and that it should never have been confounded. The case, however, is, that the Bible will not bear exami- nation in any part of it, which it would do if it was the word of God. Those who most believe it are those who know least, about it, and priests always take care to keep the inconsistent and contradictory parts out of sight. T. P. 308 OF THE KELIGION OF DEISM, ETC. OF THE RELIGION OF DEISM COMPARED WITH THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION, AND THE SUPERIORITY OF THE FORMER OVER THE LATTER. EVERY person, of whatever religious denomination he may be, is a DEIST in the first article of his creed. Deism, from the Latin word Deus, God, is the belief of a God, and this belief is the first article of every man's creed. It is on this article, universally consented to by all mankind, that the Deist builds his church, and here he rests. Whenever we step aside from this article, by mixing it with articles of hu- man invention, we wander into a labyrinth of uncertainty and fable, and become exposed to every kind of imposition by pre- tenders to revelation. The Persian shows the Zendavesta of Zoroaster, the law-giver of Persia, and calls it the divine law; the Bramin shows the SJiaster, revealed, he says, by God to Brama, and given to him out of a cloud; the Jew shows what he calls the law of Moses, given, he says, by God, on the Mount Sinai; the Christian shows a collection of books and epistles, written by nobody knows who, and called the New Testament; and the Mahometan shows the Koran, given, he says, by God to Mahomet: each of these calls itself revealed religion, and the only true word of God, and this the followers of each profess to believe from the habit of education, and each believes the others are imposed upon. But when the divine gift of reason begins to expand itself in the mind and calls man to reflection, he then reads and contemplates God in his works, and not in the books pretend- ing to be revelation. The Creation is the Bible of the true believer in God. Everything in this vast volume inspires him with sublime ideas of the Creator. The little and paltry, and often obscene, tales of the bible sink into wretchedness when put in comparison with this mighty work. The Deist needs none of those tricks and shows called miracles to confirm his OP THE; RELIGION OF DEISM, ETC. 309 faith, for what can be a greater miracle than the creation it- self, and his own existence. There is a happiness in Deism, when rightly understood, that is not to be found in any other system of religion. All other systems have some things in them that either shock our reason, or are repugnant to it, and man, if he thinks at all, must stifle his reason in order to force himself to believe them. But in Deism our reason and our belief become happily united. The wonderful structure of the universe, and every thing we behold in the system of the creation, prove to us, far better than books can do, the existence of a God, and at the same time proclaim his attributes. It is by the exercise of our rea- son that we are enabled to contemplate God in his works, and imitate him in his ways. When we see his care and goodness extended over all his creatures, it teaches us our duty towards each other, while it calls forth our gratitude to him. It is by forgetting God in his works, and running after the books of pretended revelation that man has wandered from the straight path of duty and happiness, and become by turns the victim of doubt and the dupe of delusion. Except in the first article in the Christian creed, that of be- lieving in God, there is not an article in it but fills the mind with doubt, as to the truth of it, the instant man begins to think. Now every article in a creed that is necessary to the happiness and salvation of man, ought to be as evident to the reason and comprehension of man as the first article is, for God has not given us reason for the purpose of confounding us, but that we should use it for our own happiness and his glory. The truth of the first article is proved by God himself, and is universal; for the creation is of itself demonstration of the existence of a Creator. But the second article, that of God's begetting a son, is not proved in like manner, and stands on no other authority than that of a tale. Certain books in what is called the New Testament tell us that Joseph dreamed that the angel told him so. (Matthew, chap. 1, ver. 20). "And behold the Angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph, in a dream, saying, Joseph, thou son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife, for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost." The evidence upon this article bears no com- parison with the evidence upon the first article, and, therefore is not entitled to the same credit, and ought not to be made an article in a creed, because the evidence of it is defective, and 310 OF THE RELIGION OF DEISM, ETC. what evidence there is, is doubtful and suspicious. We do not believe the first article on the authority of books, whether called Bibles or Korans, nor yet on the visionary authority of dreams, but on the authority of God's own visible works in the creation. The nations who never heard of such books, nor of such people as Jews, Christians, or Mahometans, believe the existence of a God as fully as we do, because it is self- evident. The work of man's hands is a proof of the existence of man as fully as his personal appearance would be. When we see a watch, we have as positive evidence of the existence of a watch-maker, as if we saw him ; and in like manner the creation is evidence to our reason and our senses of the exist- ence of a Creator. But there is nothing in the works of God that is evidence that he begat a son, nor any thing in the sys- tem of creation that corroborates such an idea, and, therefore, we are not authorized in believing it. But presumption can assume anything, and therefore it makes Joseph's dream to be of equal authority with the ex- istence of God, and to help it on calls it revelation. It is im- possible for the mind of man in its serious moments, however it may have been entangled by education, or beset by priest- craft, not to stand still and doubt upon the truth of this article and of its creed. But this is not all. The second article of the Christian creed having brought the son of Mary into the world (and this Mary, according to the chronological tables, was a girl of only fifteen years of age when this son was born), the next article goes on to account for his being begotten, which was, that when he grew a man he should be put to death, to expiate, they say, the sin that Adam brought into the world by eating an apple or some kind of forbidden fruit. But though this is the creed of the Church of Rome, from whence the protestants borrowed it, it is a creed which that church has manufactured of itself, for it is not contained in, nor derived from, the book called the New Testament. The four books called the Evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, which give, or pretend to give, the birth, sayings, life, preaching and death of Jesus Christ, make no mention of what is called the fall of man ; nor is the name of Adam to be found in any of those books, which it certainly would be if the writers of them believed that Jesus was begotten, born, and died for the purpose of redeeming mankind from the sin OF THE KEL1G1ON OF DEJSM, KTC. oil which Adam had brought into the world. Jesus never speaks of Adam himself, of the Garden of Eden, nor of what is called the fall of man. But the Church of Rome having set up its new religion which it called Christianity, and invented the creed which it named the apostle's creed, in which it calls Jesus the only son of God, conceived by the Holy Ghost, and born of ihe Virgin Mary things of which it is impossible that man or woman can have any idea, and consequently no belief but in words, and for which there is no authority but the idle story of Joseph's dream in the first chapter of Matthew, which any lie-signing impostor or foolish fanatic might make. It then manufactured the allegories in the book of Genesis into fact, and the allegorical tree of life and the tree of knowledge into real trees, contrary to the belief of the first Christians, and for which there is not the least authority in any of the books of the New Testament ; for in none of them is there any mention made of such place as the Garden of Eden, nor of any thing that is said to have happened there. But the Church of Rome could not erect the person called Jesus into a Saviour of the world without making the alle- gories in the book of Genesis into fact, though the New Testa- ment, as before observed, gives not authority for it. All at once the allegorical tree of knowledge became, according to the church, a real tree, the fruit of it real fruit, and the eating of it sinful. As priestcraft was always the enemy of know- ledge, because priestcraft supports itself by keeping people in delusion and ignorance, it was consistent with its policy to make the acquisition of knowledge a real sin. The Church of Rome having done this, it then brings for- ward Jesus the son of Mary as suffering death to redeem man- kind from sin, which Adam, it says, had brought into the world by eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge. But as it is impossible for reason to believe such a story, because it can see no reason for it, nor have any evidence of it, the church then tells us we must not regard our reason, but must believe, as it were, and that through thick and thin, as if God had given man reason like a plaything, or a rattle, on purpose to make fun of him. Reason is the forbidden tree of priestcraft, and may serve to explain the allegory of the forbidden tree of knowledge, for we may reasonably suppose the allegory had some meaning and application at the time it was invented. It 312 OF THE RELIGION OF DEISM, ETC. was the practice of the eastern nations to convey their mean- ing by allegory, and relate it in the manner of fact. Jesus followed the same method, yet nobody ever supposed the alle- gory or parable of the rich man and Lazarus, the prodigal son, the ten virgins, &c., wore facts. Why then should the tree of knowledge, which is far more romantic in idea than the para- bles in the New Testament are, be supposed to be a real tree.* The answer to this is, because the church could not make its new fangled system, which it called Christianity, hold together without it. To have made Christ to die on account of an alle- gorical tree would have been too bare-faced a fable. But the account, as it is given of Jesus in the New Testament, even visionary as it is, does not support the oreed of the church that he died for the redemption of the world. According to that account he was crucified and buried on the Friday, and rose again in good health on the Sunday morning, for we do not hear that he was sick. This cannot be called dying, and is rather making fun of death than suffering it. There are thou- sands of men and women also, who if they could know they should come back again in good health in about thirty-six hours, would prefer such kind of death for the sake of experiment, and to know what the other side of the grave was. Why then should that which would be only a voyage of curious amusement to us be magnified into merit and suffering in him ] If a God he could not suffer death, for immort_ ity cannot die, and as a man his death could be no more than the death of any other person. The belief of the redemption of Jesus Christ is altogether an invention of the Church of Rome, not the doctrine of the New Testament. What the writers of the New Testament attempted to prove by the story of Jesus is the resurrection of the same body from the grave, which was the belief of the Pharisees, in opposition to the Sadducees (a sect of Jews), who denied it. Paul, who was brought up a Pharisee, labors hard at this point, for it was the creed of his own Pharisaical church. The 15th chap, of 1. Corinthians is full of supposed cases and assertions about the resurrection of the same body, but there is not a word in it about redemption. This chapter makes part of the *The remark of the Emperor Julian, on the story of The Tree of Know- ledge, is worth observing. "If," saM he, "there ever had tieen, or could lie, a Tree of Knowledge, in-tead of God forbidding man to eat thereof, it would be that of which he would order him to eat the must. " OF THE RELIGION OF DEISM, ETC. 313 funeral service of the Episcopal church. The dogma of the re- demption is the fable of priestcraft invented since the time the New Testament was compiled, and the agreeable delusion of it suited with the depravity of immoral livers. When men are taught to ascribe all their crimes and vices to the temptations of the Devil, and to believe that Jesus, by his death, rubs all off and pays their passage to heaven gratis, they become as care- less in morals as a spendthrift would be of money, were he told that his father had engaged to pay off all his scores. It is a doctrine, not only dangerous to morals in this world, but to our happiness in the next world, because it holds out such a cheap, easy, and lazy way of getting to heaven as has a tendency to induce men to hug the delusion of it to their own injury. But there are times when men have serious thoughts, and it is at such times, when they begin to think, that they begin to doubt the truth of the Christian Religion, and well they may, for it is too fanciful and too full of conjecture, inconsistency, improbability, and irrationality, to afford consolation to the thoughtful man. His reason revolts against his creed. He sees that none of its articles are proved, or can be proved. He may believe that such a person as is called Jesus (for Christ was not his name) was born and grew to be a man, because it is no more than a natural and probable case. But who is to prove he is the son of God, that he was begotten by the Holy Ghost ? Of these things there can be no proof, and that which admits not of proof and is against the laws of probability, and the order of nature which God himself has established, is not an object for belief. God has not given man reason to em- barrass him, but to prove his being imposed upon. He may believe that Jesus was crucified, because many others were crucified, but who is to prove he was crucified for the sins of the world ? This article has no evidence, not even in the New Testament; and if it had, where is the proof that the New Testament, in relating things neither probable nor prove- able, is to be believed as true 1 When an article in a creed does not admit of proof nor of probability, the salve is to call it revelation; but this is only putting one difficulty in the place of another, for it is as impossible to prove a thing to be revela- tion as it is to prove that Mary was gotten with child by the Holy Ghost. Here it is that the religion of Deism is superior to the Chris- tian religion. It is free from all those invented and torturing 314 OF THE KELIGION OF DEISM, ETC. articles that shock cur reason or injure our humanity, and with which the Christian religion abounds. Its creed is pure and sublimely simple. It believes in God and there it rests. It honors reason as the choicest gift of God to man, and the faculty by which he is enabled to contemplate the power, wis- dom and goodness of the Creator displayed in the creation ; and reposing itself on his protection, both here and hereafter, it avoids all presumptuous belief, and rejects, as the fabulous in- ventions of men, all books pretending to revelation. T P. LETTER TO SAMUEL ADAMS. 315 LETTER TO SAMUEL ADAMS. MY DEAR AND VENERABLE FRIEND, I RECEIVED with great pleasure your friendly and affection ate letter of Nov. 30th, and I thank you also for the frankness of it. Between men in pursuit of truth, and whose object is the happiness of man both here and hereafter, there ought to be no reserve. Even error has a claim to indulgence, if not to re- spect, when it is believed to be truth. I am obliged to you for your affectionate remembrance of what you style my services in awakening the public mind to a declaration of independence, and supporting it after it was declared. I also, like you, have often looked back on those times, and have thought, that if in- dependence had not been declared at the time it was, the public mind could not have been brought up to it afterwards. It will immediately occur to you, who were so intimately acquainted with the situation of things at that time, that I allude to the black times of seventy-six; for though I know, and you my friend also know, they were no other than the natural conse- quences of the military blunders of that campaign, the country might have viewed them as proceeding from a natural inability to support its cause against the enemy, and have sunk undei the despondency of that misconceived idea. This was the im- pression against which it was necessary the country should be strongly animated. I now come to the second part of your letter, on which I shall be as frank with you as you are with me. " But (say you) when I heard you had turned your mind to a defence of infidelity, I felt myself much astonished," t- edly safer in England than in some other countries, but the will of the king is as much the law of the land in Britain as in France, with this difference, that instead of proceeding directly from his mouth, it is handed to the people under the formidable shape of an act of parliament For the fate of Charles the First hath only made kings more subtle not more iust 12 COMMON SENSE. Wherefore, laying aside all national pride and prejudice in favor of modes and forms, the plain truth is that it is wholly owing to the constitution of the people, and not the constitution of the government that the crown is not as oppressive in England as in Turkey. An inquiry into the constitutional errors in the English form of government is at this time highly necessary; for as* we are never in a proper condition of doing justice to others, while we continue under the influence of some leading partiality, so neither are we capable of doing it to ourselves while we remain fettered by any obstinate prejudice. And as a man, who is at- tached to a prostitute, is unfitted to choose or judge of a wife, so any prepossession in favor of a rotten constitution of govern- ment will disable us from discerning a good one OF MONARCHY AND HEREDITARY SUCCESSION. MANKIND being originally equals in the order of creation, the equality could only be destroyed by some subsequent circum- stance ; the distinctions of rich and poor, may in a great mea- sure be accounted for, and that without having recourse to the harsh ill-sounding names of avarice and oppression. Oppression is often the consequence, but seldom or never the means of riches ; and though avarice will preserve a man from being necessitously poor, it generally makes him too timorous to be wealthy. But there is another and greater distinction for which no truly natural or religious reason can be assigned, and that is the distinction of men into kings and subjects. Male and fe- male are the distinctions of nature, good and bad, the distinc- tions of heaven ; but how a race of men came into the world so exalted above the rest, and distinguished like some new species, is worth inquiring into, and whether they are the means of happiness or of misery to mankind. In the early ages of the world, according to the scripture chronology, there were no kings ; the consequence of which was there were no wars ; it is the pride of kings which throws man- kind into confusion. Holland without a king, hath enjoyed more peace for the last century than any of the monarchical governments of Europe. Antiquity favors the same remark; for the quiet and rural lives of the first patriarchs have a happy COMMON SENSE. 13 something in them, which vanishes when we oome to the hi- tory of Jewish royalty. Government by kings was first introduced into the world by Heathens, from whom the children of Israel copied the cus- tom. It was the most prosperous invention that was ever set on foot for the promotion of Idolatry. The heathen paid divine honors to their deceased kings, and the Christian world hath improved on the plan by doing the same to their living ones. How impious is the title of sacred majesty applied to a worm, who in the midst of his splendor is crumbling into dust ! As the exalting one man so greatly above the rest, cannot be justified on the equal rights of nature, so neither can it be de- fended on the authority of Scripture ; for the will of the Al- mighty as declared by Gideon, and the prophet Samuel, ex- pressly disapproves of government by kings. All anti-mon- archical parts of Scripture, have been very smoothly glossed over in monarchical governments, but they undoubtedly merit the attention of countries which have their governments yet to form. Render unto Ccesar the things which are Ccesar's, is the scripture doctrine of courts, yet it is no support of monarchical government, for the Jews at that time were without a king, and in a state of vassalage to the Komans. Near three thousand years passed away from the Mosaic ac- count of the creation, until the Jews, under the national delu- sion, requested a king. Till then their form of government (except in extraordinary cases, where the Almighty interposed) was a kind of republic, administered by a judge and the elders of the tribes. Kings they had none, and it was held sinful to acknowledge any being under that title but the Lord of Hosts. And when a man seriously reflects on the idolatrous homage which is paid to the persons of kings, he need not wonder that the Almighty, ever jealous of his honor, should disap- prove a form of government which so impiously invades the prerogative of heaven. Monarchy is ranked in scripture as one of the sins of the Jews, for which a curse in reserve is denounced against them. The history of that transaction is worth attending to. The children of Israel being oppressed by the Midianites, Gideon marched against them with a small army, and victory, through the divine interposition, decided in his favor. The Jews, elate with success, and attributing it to the generalship of Gideon, proposed making him a king, saying, Rule thou over 14 COMMON SENSE. us, thou and thy son, and thy son 1 8 son. Here was temptation in its fullest extent ; not a kingdom only, but an hereditary one ; but Gideon in the piety of his soul replied, 1 will not rule over you, neither shall my son rule over you, THE LORD SHALL RULE OVER YOU. Words need not be more ex- plict ; Gideon doth not decline the honor, but denieth their right to give it ; neither doth he compliment them with inventerl declarations of his thanks, but in the positive style of a Prophet charges them with disaffection to their proper Sovereign, the King of heaven. About one hundred years after this, they fell again into the same error. The hankering which the Jews had for the idola- trous customs of the Heathens is something exceedingly unac- countable; but so it was, that laying hold of the misconduct of Samuel's two sons, who were intrusted with some secular con- cerns, they came in an abrupt and clamorous manner to Samuel, saying, Behold thou art old, and thy sons walk not in thy ways, now make us a king to judge us like all the other nations. And here we cannot but observe that their motives were bad, viz.: that they might be like unto other nations, i.e., the Heathen: whereas their true glory lay in being as much unlike them as possible. But the thing displeased Samuel when they said, Give us a king to judge us ; and Samuel prayed unto the Lord, and the Lord said unto Samuel, Hearken unto the voice of the people in all that they say unto thee, for they have not rejected thee, but they have rejected me, THAT I SHOULD NOT REIGN OVER THEM. According to all the works which they have done since the day that 1 brought them up out of Egypt, even unto this day; wherewith they have forsaken me, and served other Gods ; so do t/tey also unto thee. Now therefore hetfrken unto tJieir voice, howbeit, protest solemnly unto them and show them the manner of the king that shall reign over them, i.e.: not of any particular king, but the general manner of the kings of the earth whom Israel was so eagerlv copying after. And notwithstanding the great distance of time and difference of manners, the character is still in fashion. And Samuel told all the words nf the Lord unto the people that asked oj him a king. And he said, This shall be the manner of the king that shall reign over you; he will take your sons and appoint tliem >^r himself, for his chariots, and to be his horsemen, and some shall run before his chariots (this description agrees with the present mode of impressing men), and he will appoint him captains over thousands) and cap- COMMON SENSE. 15 tains over fifties, and will set them to ear his ground and to reoj. his harvest, and to make his instruments of war, and instru- ments of his chariots; and he will take your daughters to be confectionaries, and to be cooks and to be bakers (this describes the expense and luxury as well as the oppression of kings), and he will take your fields and your olive yards, even the lest of them, and give them to his servants ; and he will take the tenth of your seed and of your vineyards, and give them to his officers and to his servants (by which we see that bribery, corruption, and favoritism, are the standing vices of kings), and he will take the tenth of your men servants, and your maid servants, and your goodliest young men, and your asses, and put them to his work ; and he will take the tenth of your sheep, and ye shall be his servants, and ye shall cry out in that day because of your king which ye shall have chosen. AND THE LORD WILL XOT HEAR YOU IN THAT DAY. This accounts for the continuation of monarchy ; neither do the characters of the few good kings which have lived since, either sanctify the title, or blot out the sinf ulness of the origin : the high encomium given >f David takes no notice of him officially as a king, but only as .1 man after God's own heart. Nevertheless the people refused to obey the voice of Samuel, and they said, Nay, but we will have 'i king over us, that we may be like all the nations, and that our king may judge us, and go out bejore us and fight our battles. Samuel continued to reason with them but to no purpose ; he set before them their ingratitude, but all would not avail ; and seeing them fully bent on their folly, he cried out, / will call unto the Lord, and he shall send thunder and rain (which was then a punishment, being in the time of wheat harvest), that ye may perceive and see that your wickedness is great which ye have done in the sight of the Lord, IN ASKING YOU A KING. So Samuel called unto the Lord, and the Lord sent thunder and rain that day, and all the people greatly feared the Lord and Samuel. And all the people said unto Samuel, Pray for thy servants unto the Lord thy God that we die not, for WE HAVE ADDED UNTO OUR SINS THIS EVIL, TO ASK A KING. These portions of scripture are direct and positive. They admit of no equivocal construction. That the Almighty hath here entered his protest against monarchial gov- ernment is true, or the scripture is false. And a man hath good reason to believe that there is as much of kingcraft as priestcraft in withholding the scripture from the public in 16 COMMUJN SENSE. Popish countries. For monarchy in every instance is the Popery of government. To the evil of monarchy we have added that of hereditary succession ; and as the first is a degradation and lessening of ourselves, so the second, claimed as a matter of right, is an insult and imposition on posterity. For all men being origin- ally equals, no one by birth, could have a right to set up his own family, in perpetual preference to all others for ever, and though himself might deserve some decent degree of honors of his cotemporaries, yet his descendants might be far too unworthy to inherit them. One of the strongest natural proofs of the folly of hereditary right in kings, is that nature disapproves it, other- wise she would not so frequently turn it intoridicule, by giving mankind an Ass for a Lion. Secondly, as no man at first could possess more public honon than were bestowed upon him, so the givers of those honors could have no power to give away the right of posterity, and though they might say, " We choose you for our head," they could not, without manifest injustice to their children, say "that your children and your children's children shall reign over ours for ever" Because such an unwise, unjust, unnatural compact might (perhaps) in the next succession put them under the goverment of a rogue, or a fool. Most wise men in their private sentiments have ever treated hereditary right with con- tempt ; yet it is one of those evils, which when once established is not easily removed ; many submit from fear, others from superstition, and the more powerful part shares, with the king, the plunder of the rest. This is supposing the present race of kings in the world to have had an honorable origin; whereas it is more than probable, that could we take off the dark covering of antiquity, and trace them to their first rise, we should find the first of them nothing better than the principal ruffian of some restless gang, whose bdvage manners or pre-eminence in subtlety obtained him the title of chief among plunderers ; and who by increasing in power, and extending his depredations, overawed the quiet and defenceless to purchase their safety by frequent contributions. Yet his electors could have no idea of giving hereditary right to his descendants, because such a perpetual exclusion of themselves was incompatible with the free and unrestrained principles they professed to live by. Wherefore, hereditary succession in the early ages of monarchy could not COMMON SENSE. 17 as a matter of claim, but as something casual or complimental ; but as few or no records were extant in those days, and tradi- tionary history stuffed with fables, it was very easy, after the lapse of a few generations, to trump up some superstitious tale, conveniently timed Mahomet like, to cram hereditary rights down the throats of the vulgar. Perhaps the disorders which threatened, or seemed to threaten, on the decease of a leader and the choice of a new one (for elections among ruffians could not be very orderly) induced many at first to favor hereditary pretensions ; by which means it happened, as it hath happened since, that what at first was submitted to as a convenience, was afterwards claimed as a right. England, since the conquest, hath known some few good monarchs, but groaned beneath a much larger number of bad ones ; yet no man in his senses can say that their claim under William the Conqueror is a very honorable one. A French bastard landing with an armed banditti, and establishing himself king of England against the consent of the natives, is in plain terms a very paltry rascally original It certainly hath no divinity in it. However, it is needless to spend much time in exposing the folly of hereditary right; if there are any so weak as to believe it, let them promiscuously worship the ass and the lion, and welcome. I shall neither copy their humility, nor dis- turb their devotion. Yet I should be glad to ask how they suppose kings came at first 1 The question admits but of three answers, viz., either by lot, by election, or by usurpation. If the first' king was taken by lot, it establishes a precedent for the next, which excludes hereditary succession, Saul was by lot, yet the succession was not hereditary, neither does it appear from that transaction that there was any intention it ever should be. If the first king of any country was by election, that likewise establishes a preced- ent tor the next ; for to say, that the right of all future genera- tions is taken away, by the act of the first electors, in their choice not only of a king, but of a family of kings forever i hath no parallel in or out of scripture but the doctrine of original sin, which supposes the free will of all men lost in Adam ; and from such comparison and it will admit of no other, hereditary suc- cession can derive no glory. For as in Adam all sinned, and as in the first electors all men obeyed ; as in the one all mankind were subjected to Satan, and in the other to sovereignty ; as our innocence was lost in the first, and our authority in the last; and 18 COMMON SENSE. as both disable us from re-assuming some former state and privi- lege, it unanswerably follows that original sin and hereditary succession are parallels. Dishonorable rank ! Inglorious con- nection ! Yet the most subtle sophist cannot produce a juster simile. As to usurpation, no man will be so hardy as to defend it ; and that William the Conqueror was a usurper is a fact not to be contradicted. The plain truth is, that the antiquity of Eng- lish monarchy will not bear looking into. But it is not so much the absurdity as the evil of hereditary succession which concerns mankind. Did it ensure a race of good and wise men it would have the seal of divine authority, but as it opens a door to the foolish, the wicked, and the im- proper, it hath in it the nature of oppression. Men who look upon themselves born to reign, and others to obey soon grow insolent; selected from the rest of mankind their minds are early poisoned by importance; and the world they act in differs so materially from the world at large, that they have but little opportunity of knowing its true interests, and when they suc- ceed to the government are frequently the most ignorant and unfit of any throughout the dominions. Another evil which attends hereditary succession is, that the throne is subject to be possessed by a minor at any age; all' which time the regency acting under the cover of a king have every opportunity and inducement to betray their trust. The same national misfortune happens when a king, worn out with age and infirmity, enters the last stage of human weakness. In both these cases the public becomes the prey to every mis- creant who can tamper successfully with the follies either of age or infancy. The most plausible plea, which hath ever been offered in favor of hereditary succession, is, that it preserves a nation from civil wars : and were this true, it would be weighty ; whereas, it is the most barefaced falsity ever imposed upon mankind. The whole history of England disowns the fact. Thirty kings and two minors have reigned in that distracted kingdom since the conquest, in which time there have been (including the revolution) no less than eight civil wars and nineteen rebellions. Wherefore instead of making for peace it makes against it, and destroys the very foundation it seems to stand upon. The content for monarchy and succession between the houses of York and Lancaster, laid England in a scene of blood for COMMON SENSE. 19 many years. Twelve pitched battles, besides skirmishes and seiges, were fought between Henry and Edward ; twice was Henry prisoner to Edward, who in his turn was prisoner to Henry. And so uncertain is the fate of war and the temper of a nation, when nothing but personal matters are the ground of a quarrel, that Henry was taken in triumph from a prison to a palace, and Edward obliged to fly from a palace to a foreign land ; yet, as sudden transitions of temper are seldom lasting Henry in his turn was driven from the throne, and Edward recalled to succeed him, the parliament always following the strongest side. This contest began in the reign of Henry the Sixth, and was not entirely extinguished till Henry the Seventh, in whom the families were united. Including a period of 67 years, viz.. from 1422 to U89. In short, monarchy and succession have laid (not this or that kingdom only,) but the world in blood and ashes. 'Tis a form of government which the word of God bears testimony against, and blood will attend it. If we inquire into the business of a king, we shall find (and in some countries they have none) that after sauntering away their lives without pleasure to themselves or advantage to the nation, they withdraw from the scene, and leave their successors to tread the same useless and idle round. In absolute monar- chies the whole weight of business, civil and military, lies on the king; the children of Israel in their request for a king, urged this plea, " that he may judge us, and go out before us and fight our battles." But in countries where he is neither a judge nor a general, as in England, a man would be puzzled to know what is his business. The nearer any government approaches to a republic, the less business there is for a king. It is somewhat difficult to find a proper name for the government of England. Sir William Meredith calls it a republic ; but in its present state it is unworthy of the name, because the corrupt influence of the crown, by having all the places at its disposal, hath so effectu- ally swallowed up the power, and eaten out the virtue of the house of commons (the republican part in the constitution) that the government of England is nearly as monarchical as that of France or Spain. Men fall out with names without under- standing them. For it is the republican and not the monarchi- cal part of the constitution of England which Englishmen glory 20 COMMON SENSE. in, viz., the liberty of choosing a house of commons from ont of their own body and it is easy to see that when republican virtue fails, slavery ensues. Why is the constitution of Eng- land sickly, but because monarchy hath poisoned the republic, the crown hath engrossed the commons. In England a king hath little more to do than to make war and give away places ; which, in plain terms, is to impoverish the nation, and set it together by the ears. A pretty business indeed for a man to be allowed eight hundred thousand sterling a year for, and worshipped into the bargain ! Of more worth is one honest man to society, and in the sight of God, than all the crowned ruffians that ever lived. THOUGHTS ON THE PRESENT STATE OF THE AMERICAN AFFAIRS. IN the following pages I offer nothing more than simple facts, plain arguments, and common sense ; and have no other preliminaries to settle with the reader, than that he will divest himself of prejudice and prepossession, and suffer his reason and his feelings to determine for themselves ; that he will put on, or rather that he will not put o^the true character of a man, and generously enlarge his views beyond the present day. Volumes have been written on the subject of the struggle between England and America. Men of all ranks have em- barked in the controversy, from different motives, and with various designs ; but all have been ineffectual, and the period of debate is closed. Arms, as the last resource must decide the contest ; the appeal was the choice of the king, and the conti- nent hath accepted the challenge. It has been reported of the late Mr. Pelham (who, though an able minister was not without his faults) that on his being attacked in the House of Commons, on the score that his mea- sures were only of a temporary kind, replied, "they will last my time." Should a thought so fatal or unmanly possess the colonies in the present contest, the name of ancestors will be remembered by future generations with detestation. The sun never shone on a cause of greater worth. 'Tis not the affair of a city, a county, a province, or a kingdom, but of a continent of at least one-eighth part of the habitable globe. COMMON SENSE. 21 Tis not the concern of a day, a year, or an age ; posterity are virtually involved in the contest, and will be more or less affected even to the end of time, by the proceedings now. Now is the seed-time of continental union, faith and honor. The least fracture now will be like a name engraved with the point of a pin on the tender rind of a young oak ; the wound will enlarge with the tree, and posterity read it in full grown char- acters. By referring the matter from argument to arms, a new area for politics is struck ; a new method of thinking hath arisen. All plans, proposals, etc., prior to the nineteenth of April, i.e., to the commencement of hostilities, are like the almanacs of last year ; which, though proper then, are superseded and use- less now. Whatever was advanced by the advocates on either side -of the question then, terminated in one and the same point, viz., a union with Great Britain ; the only difference between the parties was the method of effecting it ; the one proposing force, the other friendship ; but it hath so far happened that the first has failed, and the second has withdrawn her influence. As much hath been said of the advantages of reconciliation, which, like an agreeable dream, hath passed away and left us as we were, it is but right that we should examine the contrary side of the argument, and inquire into some of the many material injuries which these colonies sustain, and always will sustain, by being connected with and dependent on Great Britain. To examine that connection and dependence, on the principles of nature and common sense, to see what we have to trust to, if separated, and what we are to expect, if dependent. I have heard it asserted by some that as America has flour- ished under her former connexion with Great Britain, the same connexion is necessary towards her future happiness, and will always have the same effect. Nothing can be more fallacious than this kind of argument. We may as well assert that because a child has thrived upon milk, that it is never to have meat, or that the first twenty years of our lives is to become a precedent for the next twenty. But even this is admitting more than is true, for I answer roundly, that America would have flourished as much, and probably much more, had no European power had any thing to do with her. The articles of commerce, by which she has enriched herself, are the necessaries of life, and will always have a market while eating is the custom of Europe. . But she has protected us, say some. That she hath engrossed 22 COMMON SENSE. us is true, and defended the continent at our expense as "well as her own, is admitted, and she would have defended Turkey from the same motives, viz., for the sake of trade and dominion. Alas! we have been long led away by ancient prejudices, and made large sacrifices to superstition. We have boasted the protection of Great Britain, without considering that her motive was interest, not attachment ; and that she did not protect us from our enemies on our account, but from her enemies on her own account, from those who had no quarrel with us on any other account, and who will always be our enemies on the same account. Let Britain waive her pretentions to the continent, or the continent throw off the dependence, and we should be at peace with France and Spain, were they at war with Britain. The miseries of Hanover last war ought to warn us against connexions. It hath lately been asserted in parliament, that the colonies have no relation to each other but through the parent country, i.e., that Pennsylvania and the Jerseys, and so on for the rest, are sister colonies by way of England ; that is certainly a very round-about way of proving relationship, but it is the nearest and only true way of proving enemyship, if I may so call it. France and Spain never were, nor perhaps ever will be, our enemies as Americans, but as our being the subjects of Great Britain. But Britain is the parent country say some. Then the more shame upon her conduct. Even brutes do not devour their young, nor savages make war upon their families ; wherefore, the assertion, if true, turns to her reproach ; but it happens not to be true, or only partly so, and the phrase parent or mother country hath been jesuitically adopted by the king and his parasites, with a low papistical design of gaining an unfair bias on the credulous weakness of our minds. Europe, and not England, is the parent country of America. This new world hath been the asylum for the persecuted lovers of civil and religious liberty from every part of Europe. Hither have they fled, not from the tender embraces of the mother, but from the cruelty of the monster; and it is so far true of England, that the same tyranny which drove the first emigrants from home, pursues their descendants still. In this extensive quarter of the globe, we forget the narrow limits of three hundred and sixty miles (the extent of England), and carry our friendship on a larger scale; we claim brother- COMMON SENSE. 23 hood with every European Christian, and triumph in the gen- erosity of the sentiment. It is pleasant to observe with what regular gradations we surmount local prejudices, as we enlarge our acquaintance with the world. A man born in any town in England divided into parishes, will naturally associate with most of his fellow pai'ish- ioners (because their interest in many cases will be common), and distinguish him by the name of neighbor; if he meet him but a few miles from home, he drops the narrow idea of a street, and salutes him by the name of townsman ; if he travel out of the county, and meet him in any other, he forgets the minor divisons of street and town, and calls him countryman, i.e., countyman; but if in their foreign excursions they should associ- ate in France or any other part of Europe, their local remem- brance would be enlarged into that of Englishman. And by a just parity of reasoning, all Europeans meeting in America, or any other quarter of the globe, are countrymen ; for England, Holland, Germany, or Sweden, when compared with the whole, stand in the same places on the larger scale, which the divisions of street, town, and county do on the smaller one ; distinctions too limited for continental minds. Not one third of the in- habitants, even of this province, are of English descent. "W here- fore, I reprobate the phrase of parent or mother country, applied to England only, as being false, selfish, narrow and ungenerous. But, admitting that we were all of English descent, what does it amount to 1 Nothing. Britain being now an open enemy, extinguishes every other name and title ; and to say that recon- ciliation is our duty, is truly farcical. The first king of England, of the present line (William the Conqueror) was a Frenchman, and half the peers of England are descendants from the same country ; wherefore, by the same method of reasoning, England ought to be governed by France. Much hath been said of the united strength of Britain and the colonies, that in conjunction they might bid defiance to the world. But this is mere presumption; the fate of war is un- certain, neither do the expressions mean anything ; for this continent would never suffer itself to be drained of inhabitants to support the British arms in either Asia, Africa, or Europe. Besides, what have we to do with setting the world at defi- ance ? Our plan is commerce, and that, well attended to, will secure us the peace and frendship of all Europe ; because it is 24 COMMON SENSE. the interest of all Europe to have America a free port. Her trade will always be a protection, and her barrenness of gold and silver secure her from invaders. I challenge the warmest advocate for reconcilation to show a single advantage that this continent can reap by being con- nected with Great Britain. I repeat the challenge ; not a single advantage is derived. Our corn will fetch its price in any market in Europe, and our imported goods must be paid for, buy them where we will. But the injuries and disadvantages which we sustain by that connexion are without number ; and our duty to mankind at large, as well as to ourselves, instructs us to renounce the alliance ; because, any submission to or dependence on Great Britain, tends directly to involve this continent in European wars and quarrels ; and sets us at variance with nations, who would otherwise seek our friendship, and against whom we have neither anger nor complaint. As Europe is our market for trade, we ought to form no partial connexion with any part of it. It is the true interest of America to steer clear of European contentions, which she never can do, while, by her dependence on Britain, she is made the make-weight in the scale of British politics. Europe is too thickly planted with kingdoms to be long at peace, and whenever a war breaks out between England and any foreign power, the trade of America goes to ruin, because of her connexion with Britain. The next war may not turn out like the last, and should it not, the advocates for reconciliation now will be wishing for separation then, because, neutrality in that case, would be a safer convoy than a man of war. Every thing that is right or natural pleads for separation. The blood of the slain, the weeping voice of nature cries, 'tis time to part. Even the distance at which the Almighty hath placed England and America, is a strong and natural proof that the authority of the one over the other was never the design of heaven. The time likewise at which the continent was discovered adds weight to the argument, and the manner in which it was peopled in- creases the force of it. The reformation was preceded by the discovery of America, as if the Almighty graciously meant to open a sanctuary to the persecuted in future years, when home should afford neither friendship nor safety. The authority of Great Britain over this continent, is a form of government which sooner or later must have an end : and a COMMON SENSE. 25 serious mind can draw no true pleasure by looking forward under the painful and positive conviction, that what he calls "the present constitution," is merely temporary. As parents, we can have no joy, knowing that this government is not sufficiently lasting to ensure anything which we may bequeath to posterity ; and by a plain method of argument, as we are running the next generation into debt, we ought to do the work of it, otherwise we use them meanly and pitifully. In order to discover the line of our duty rightly, we should take our children in our hand, and fix our station a few years farther, into life ; that eminence will present a prospect which a few present fears and prejudices conceal from our sight. Though I would carefully avoid giving unnecessary offence, yet I am inclined to believe, that all those who espouse the doc- trine of reconciliation may be included within the following descriptions. Interested men, who are not to be trusted ; weak men who cannot see; prejudiced men, who will not see; and a certain set of moderate men, who think better of the European world than it deserves ; and this last class by an ill-judged deliberation, will be the cause of more calamities to this continent than all the other three. It is the good fortune of many to live distant from the scene of sorrow ; the evil is not sufficiently brought to their doors to make them feel the precariousness with which all American property is possessed. But let our imaginations transport us a few moments to Boston ; that seat of wretchedness will teach us wisdom, and instruct us forever to renounce a power in whom we can have no trust. The inhabitants of that unfortunate city, who but a few months ago were in ease and affluence, have now no other alternative than to stay and starve, or turn out to beg. Endangered by the fire of their friends if they continue within the city, and plundered by the soldiery if they leave it. In their present situation they are prisoners without the hope of redemption, and in a general attack for their relief, they would be exposed to the fuiy of both armies. Men of passive tempers look somewhat lightly over the ofiences of Britain, and still hoping for the best, are apt to call out, " come, come, we shall be friends again, for all this." But examine the passions and feelings of mankind, bring the doc- trine of reconciliation to the touchstone of nature, and then tell me whether you can hereafter love, honor, and faithfully serve 26 COMMON SENSE. the power that hath carried fire and sword into your land ? If you cannot do all these, then are you only deceiving yourselves, and by your delay bringing ruin upon your posterity. Your future connexion with Britain, whom you can neither love nor honor, will be forced and unnatural, and being formed only on the plan of present convenience, will in a little time fall into a relapse more wretched than the first. But if you say you can still pass the violations over, then I ask, hath your house been burnt 1 Hath your property been destroyed before your face 1 Are your wife and children destitute of a bed to lie on, or bread to live on ? Have you lost a parent or a child by their hands, and yourself the ruined and wretched survivor 1 If you have not, then are you not a judge of those who have 1 But if you have, and can still shake hands with the murderers, then pre you unworthy the name of husband, father, friend, or lover, and whatever may be your rank or title in life, you have the heart of a coward and the spirit of a sycophant. This is not inflaming or exaggerating matters, but trying them by those feelings and affections which nature justifies, and without which we should be incapable of discharging the soc:al duties of life, or enjoying the felicities of it. I mean not to exhibit horror for the purpose of provoking revenge, but to awaken us from fatal and unmanly slumbers, that we may pui- sne determinately some fixed object. It is not in the power of Britain or of Europe to conquer America, if she does not con- quer herself by delay and timidity. The present winter is worth an age if rightly employed, but if lost or neglected the whole continent will partake of the misfortune; and there is no punishment which that man will not deserve, be he who, or what, or where he will, that may be the means of sacrificing a season so precious and useful. It is repugnant to reason, and the universal order of things, to all examples from former ages, to suppose that this continent can longer remain subject to any external power. The most sanguine in Britain do not think so. The utmost stretch of human wisdom cannot, at this time, compass a plan short of separation, which can promise the continent even a year's security. Reconciliation is now a fallacious dream. Nature hath deserted the connexion, and art cannot supply her place. For, as Milton wisely expresses, "never can true reconcile- ment grow, where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep." COMMON SENSE. 27 Every quiet method for peace has been ineffectual. Our pray- ers have been rejected with disdain ; and only tended to con- vince us that nothing flatters vanity, or confirms obstinacy in kings more than repeated petitioning nothing hath contributed more than this very measure to make the kings of Europe abso- lute : witness Denmark and Sweden. Wherefore, since nothing but blows will do, for God's sake let us come to a final separa- tion, and not leave the next generation to be cutting throats, under the violated, unmeaning names of parent and child. To say they will never attempt it again is idle and visionary ; we thought so at the repeal of the stamp act, yet a year or two undeceived us : as well may we suppose that nations, which have been once defeated will never renew the quarrel. As to government matters, it is not in the power of Britain to do this continent justice : the business of it will soon be too weighty and intricate to be managed with any tolerable degree of convenience, by a power so distant from us and so very ignorant of us ; for if they cannot conquer us they cannot gov- ern us. To be always running three or four thousand miles with a tale or petition, waiting four or five months for an answer, which, when obtained, requires five or six more to explain it in, will in a few years be looked upon as folly and childishness there was a time when it was proper, and there is a proper time for it to cease. Small islands, not capable of protecting themselves, are the proper objects for kings to take under their care ; but there is something absurd, in supposing a continent to be perpetually governed by an island. In no instance hath nature made the satellite larger than its primary planet ; and as England and America, with respect to each other, reverse the common order of nature, it is evident that they belong to different systems : England to Europe America to itself. I am not induced by motives of pride, party, or resentment, to espouse the doctrine of separation and independence ; I am clearly, positively, and conscientiously persuaded that it is the true interest of this continent to be so ; that everything short of that is mere patchwork; that it can afford no lasting felicity that it is leaving the swrd to our children, and shrinking back at a time, when going a little further would have rendered this continent the glory of the earth. As Britain hath not manifested the least inclination towards a compromise, we may be assured that no terms can be obtained COMMON SENSE. worthy the acceptance of the continent, or any ways equal to the expense of blood and treasure we have been already put to. The object contended for ought always to bear some just pro- portion to the expense. The removal of North, or the whole detestable junto, is a matter unworthy the millions we have expended. A temporary stoppage of trade was an inconveni- ence which would have sufficiently balanced the repeal of all the acts complained of, had such repeals been obtained ; but if the whole continent must take up arms, if every man must be a soldier, it is scarcely worth our while to fight against a con- temptible ministry only. Dearly, dearly do we pay for the repeal of the acts, if that is all we fight for ; for, in a just esti- mation it is as great a folly to pay a Bunker-hill price for law as for land. I have always considered the independency of this continent as an event which sooner or later must take place, and from the late rapid progress of the continent to maturity, the event cannot be far off. Wherefore, on the breaking out of hostilities, it was not worth the while to have disputed a matter which time would have finally redressed, unless we meant to be in earnest ; otherwise, it is like wasting an estate on a suit at law, to regulate the trespasses of a tenant, whose lease is just expiring. No man was a warmer wisher for a reconciliation than myself, before the fatal nineteenth of April, 1775,* but the moment the event of that day was made known, I rejected the hardened, sullen-tempered Pharaoh of England forever ; and disdain the wretch, that with the pretended title of Father of his people, can unfeelingly hear of their slaughter, and compos- edly sleep with their blood upon his soul. But admitting that matters were now made up, what would be the event 1 I answer, the ruin of the continent. And that for several reasons. 1st, The powers of governing still remaining in the hands of the king, he will have a negative over the whole legislation of this continent. And as he hath shown himself such an in- veterate enemy to liberty, and discovered such a thirst for arbitrary power : is he, or is he not, a proper person to say to these colonies, " you shall make no laws but what / please ?" And is there any inhabitant of America so ignorant as not to know, that according to what is called the present constitution, this continent can make no laws but what the king gives leave to ? and is there any man so unwise as not to see, that (con- * Massacre at Lexington. COMMON SENSE. 29 sidering what has happened) he will suffer no law to be made here, but such as suits his purpose ? We may be as effectually enslaved by the want of laws in America, as by submitting to laws made for us in England. After matters are made up (as it is called) can there be any doubt, but the whole power of the crown will be exerted to keep this continent as low and hum- ble as possible ? Instead of going forward we shall go back- ward, or be perpetually quarrelling, or ridiculously petitioning. We are already greater than the king wishes us to be, and will he not hereafter endeavor to make us less ? To bring the mat- ter to one point, Is the power who is jealous of our prosperity, a proper power to govern us 1 Whoever says No to this ques- tion, is an independent, for independency means no more than this, whether we shall make our own laws, or, whether the king, the greatest enemy which this continent hath, or can have, shall tell us, " there shall be no laws but such as 1 like." But the king, you will say, has a negative in England ; the people there can make no laws without his consent. In point of right and good order, it is something very ridiculous, that a youth of twenty-one (which hath often happened) shall say to several millions of people, older and wiser than himself, I for- bid this or that act of yours to be law. But in this place I decline this sort of reply, though I will never cease to expose the absurdity of it ; and only answer, that England being the king's residence, and America not, makes quite another case. The king's negative here is ten times more dangerous and fatal than it can be in England ; for there he will scarcely refuse his consent to a bill for putting England into as strong a state of defence as possible, and in America he would never suffer such a bill to be passed. America is only a secondary object in the system of British politics England consults the good of this country no further then it answers her own purpose. Wherefore, her own in- terest leads her to suppress the growth of ours in every case which doth not promote her advantage, or in the least interferes with it. A pretty state we should soon be in under a second- hand government, considering what has happened ! Men do not change from enemies to friends, by the alteration of a name ; and in order to show that reconciliation now is a dangerous doc- trine, I affirm, that it would be policy in the king at this lime, to repeal the acts, for the sake of reinstating himself in the govern- ment of the provinces; in order that he may accomplish by craft 30 COMMON SENSE, and subtlety, in the long run, what he cannot do by force in tl* short one. Reconciliation and ruin are nearly related. 2nd, That as even the best terms, which we can expect tc obtain, can amount to no more than a temporary expedient, or a kind of government by guardianship, which can last no longer than till the colonies come of age, so the general face and state of things, in the interim, will be unsettled and unpromising. Emigrants of property will not choose to come to a country whose form of government hangs but by a thread, and which is every day tottering on the brink of commotion and disturb- ance ; and numbers of the present inhabitants would lay hold of the interval to dispose of their effects, and quit the continent. But the most powerful of all arguments, is, that nothing but independence, i e., a continental form of government, can keep the peace of the continent and preserve it inviolate from civil wars. I dread the event of a reconciliation with Britain now, as it is more than probable that it will be followed by a revolt somewhere or other, the consequences of which may be far more fatal than all the malice of Britain. Thousands are already ruined by British barbarity. (Thou- sands more will probably suffer the same fate.) Those men have other feelings than us who have nothing suffered. All they now possess is liberty, what they before enjoyed is sacri- ficed to its service, and having nothing more to lose, they disdain submission. Besides, the general temper of the colonies, towards a British government, will be like that of a youth who is nearly out of his time ; they will care very little about her. And a government which cannot preserve the peace is no gov- ernment at all, and in that case we pay our money for nothing ; and pray what is it Britain can do, whose power will be wholly on paper, should a civil tumult break out the very day after reconciliation ? I have heard some men say, many of whom I believe spoke without thinking, that they dreaded an inde- pendence, fearing that it would produce civil wars. It is but seldom that our first thoughts are truly correct, and that is the case here ; for there is ten times more to dread from a patched up connexion than from independence. I make the suflerer's case my own, and I protest, that were I driven from house and home, my property destroyed, and my circumstances ruined, that as a man, sensible of injuries, I could never relish the doc trine of reconciliation, or consider myself bound thereby. COMMON SENSE. 81 The colonies have manifested such a spirit of good order and obedience to continental government, as is sufficient to make every reasonable person easy and happy on that head. No man can assign the least pretense for his fears, on any other grounds, than such as are truly childish and ridicu- lous, viz., that one colony will be striving for superiority over another. Where there are no distinctions there can be no superiority ; perfect equality affords no temptation. The republics of Europe are all (and we may say always) in peace. Holland and Switz- erland are without wars, foreign or domestic ; monarchical go- vernments, it is true, are never long at rest : the crown itself is a temptation to enterprising ruffians at home ; and that de- gree of pride and insolence ever attendant on regal authority, swells into a rupture with foreign powers, in instances where a republican government, by being formed on more natural prin- oiples, would negotiate the mistake. If there is any true cause of fear respecting independence, it is because no plan is yet laid down. Men do not see their way -)ut, wherefore, as an opening into that business, I offer the following hints ; at the same time modestly affirming, that I have no other opinion of them myself, than that they may be the means of giving rise to something better. Could the strag- gling thoughts of individuals be collected, they would frequently form materials for wise and able men to improve into useful matter. Let the assemblies be annual, with a president only. The representation more equal. Their business wholly domestic, and subject to the authority of a continental congress. Let each colony be divided into six, eight, or ten, conven- ient districts, each district to send a proper number of delegates to congress, so that each colony send at least thirty. The whole number in Congress will be at least three hundred and ninety. Each congress to sit and to choose a presi- dent by the following method. When the delegates are met, let a colony be taken from the whole thirteen colonies by lot, after which, let the congress choose (by ballot) a president from out of the delegates of that province. In the next congress, let a colony be taken by lot from twelve only, omitting that colony from which the president was taken in the former con- gress, and so proceeding on till the whole thirteen shall have had their proper rotation. And in order that nothing may 32 COMMON SENSE. pass into a law but what is satisfactorily just, not less than three-fifths of the Congress to be called a majority. He that will promote discord, under a government so equally formed as this, would have joined Lucifer in his revolt. But as there is a peculiar delicacy, from whom, or in what manner this business must first arise, and as it seems most agreeable and consistent that it should come from some inter- mediate body between the governed and the governors, that is, between the congress and the people, let a Continental Confer- ence be held, in the following manner, and for the following purpose : A committee of twenty-six members of congress, viz., two for each colony. Two members from each house of assembly, or provincial convention ; and five representatives of the people at large, to be chosen in the capital city or town of each pro- vince, for, and in behalf of the whole province, by as many qualified voters as shall think proper to attend from all parts of the province for that purpose ; or, if more convenient, the representatives may be chosen in two or three of the most popu- lous parts thereof. In this conference, thus assembled, will be united, the two grand principles of business, knowledge and power. The members of congress, assemblies, or conventions, by having had experience in national concerns, will be able and usetul counsellors, and the whole, being empowered by the peo- ple, will have a truly legal authority. The conferring members being met, let their business be to frame a Continental Charter, or Charter of the United Col- onies (answering to what is called the Magna Charta of Eng- land) ; fixing the number and manner of choosing members of Congress, and members of assembly, with their date of sitting, and drawing the line of business and jurisdiction between them (always remembering that our strength is continental, not pro- vincial) : securing freedom and property to all men, and above all things, the free exercise of religion, according to the dictates of conscience ; with such other matter as it is necessary for a charter to contain. Immediately after which, the said confer- ence to dissolve, and the bodies which shall be chosen conform- able to the said charter, to be the legislators and governors of this continent for the time being : whose peace and happiness, may God preserve, Amen. Should any body of men be hereafter delegated for this or some similar purpose, I offer them the following extracts from COMMON SENSE. 83 that wise observer on governments, Dragonetti. " The science, " says he, " of the politician consists in fixing the true point of happiness and freedom. Those men would deserve the grati- tude of ages, who should discover a mode of government that contained the greatest sum of individual happiness, with the least national expense." But where, say some, is the king of America ? I'll tell you, friend, he reigns above, and .doth not make havoc of mankind like the royal brute of Britain. Yet that we may not appear to be defective in earthly honors, let a day be solemnly set apart for proclaiming "the charter; let it be brought forth placed on the divine law, the word of God ; let a crown be placed thereon , by which the world may know, that so far as we approve of monarchy, that in America the law is king. For as in absolute governments the king is law, so in free countries the law ought to be king ; and there ought to be no other. But lest any ill use should afterwards arise, let the crown at the conclusion of the ceremony be demolished, and scattered among the people whose right it is. A government of our own is our natural right : and when a man seriously reflects on the precariousness of human affairs, he will become convinced that it is infinitely wiser and safer to form a constitution of our own in a cool deliberate manner, while we have it in our power, than to trust such an interesting event to time and chance. If we omit it now, some Massanello may hereafter arise, who, laying hold of popular disquietudes, may collect together the desperate and the discontented, and by assuming to themselves the powers of government, finally sweep away the liberties of the continent like a deluge. Should the government of America return again into the hands of Britain, the tottering situation of things will be a temptation for some desperate adventurer to try his fortune ; and in such a case, what relief can Britain give ? Ere she could hear the news, the fatal business might be done ; and ourselves suffering like the wretched Britons under the oppression of the Conqueror. Ye that oppose independence now, ye know not what ye do ; ye are opening a door to eternal tyranny, by keeping vacant the seat of government. There are thousands, and tens of thousands, who would think it glorious to expel from the continent, that barbarous and hellish power, which hath stirred up the Indians and negroes to destroy us the cruelty hath a double guilt, it is dealing brutally by us, and treacherously by them. 34 COMMON SENSE. To talk of friendship with those in whom our reason forbids us to have faith, and our affections, wounded through a thou- sand pores, instruct us to detest, is madness and folly. Every day wears out the little remains of kindred between us and them ; and can there be any reason to hope, that as the rela- tionship expires, the affection will increase, or that we shall agree better when we have ten times more and greater concerns to quarrel over than ever ? Ye that tell us of harmony and reconciliation, can ye restore to us the time that is past ? Can ye give to prostitution its for- mer innocence 1 Neither can ye reconcile Britain and America. The last cord now is broken, the people of England are pre- senting addresses against us. There are injuries which nature cannot forgive ; she would cease to be nature if she did. As well can the lover forgive the ravisher of his mistress, as the continent forgive the murders of Britain. The Almighty hath implanted within us these unextinguishable feelings, for good and wise purposes. They are the guardians of his image in our hearts, and distinguish us from the herd of common animals. The social compact would dissolve, and justice be extirpated from the earth, or have only a casual existence were we callous to the touches of affection. The robber, and the murderer, would often escape unpunished, did not the injuries which our tempers sustain, provoke us into justice. ! ye that love mankind ! Ye that dare oppose, not only the tyranny, but the tyrant, stand forth ! Every spot of the old world is overrun with oppression. Freedom hath been hunted round the globe. Asia, and Africa, have long expelled her. Europe regards her like a stranger, and England hath given her warning to depart. O ! receive the fugitive, and pre- pare in time an asylum for mankind. ON THE PRESENT ABILITY OF AMERICA. WITH SOME MISCELLANEOUS REFLECTIONS. I HAVE never met with a man, either in England or America, who hath not confessed his opinion, that a separation between the countries would take place one time or other; and there is no instance, in which we have shown less judgment, than in endeavoring to describe, what we call, the ripeness or fitness of the continent for independence. COMMON SENSE. 35 As all men allow the measure, and vary only in their opinion of the time, let us in order to remove mistakes, take a general survey of things, and endeavor, if possible, to find out the very time. But we need not go far, the inquiry ceases at once, for the time hath found us. The general concurrence, the glorious union of all things proves the fact. It is not in numbers, but in unity, that our great strength lies; yet our present numbers are sufficient to repel the force of all the world. The continent hath at this time, the largest body of armed and disciplined men of any power under heaven; and is just arrived at that pitch of strength, in which, no single colony is able to support iiself, and the whole, when united, can accomplish the matter, and either more, or less than this, might be fatal in its effects. Our land force is already sufficient, and as to naval affairs, we cannot be insensible that Britain would never suffer an American man-of-war to be built while the con- tinent remained in her hands. Wherefore, we should be no forwarder an hundred years hence in that branch, than we are now; but the truth is, we should be less so, because the timber of the country is every day diminishing, and that which will remain at last, will be far off or difficult to procure. Were the continent crowded with inhabitants, her sufferings under the present circumstances would be intolerable. The more sea-port towns we had, the more should we have, both to defend and to lose. Our present numbers are so happily pro- portioned to our wants, that no man need be idle. The dimin- ution of trade affords an army, and the necessities of an army create a new trade. Debts we have none, and whatever we may contract on this account will serve as a glorious memento of our virtue. Can we but leave posterity with a settled form of government, an independent constitution of its own, the pur- chase at any price will be cheap. But to expend millions for the sake of getting a few vile acts repealed, and routing the present ministry only, is unworthy the charge, and is using posterity with the utmost cruelty ; because it is leaving them the great work to do, and a debt up^n their backs, from which they derive no advantage. Such a thought is unworthy a man of honor, and is the true char- acteristic of a narrow heart and a peddling politician. The debt we may contract doth not deserve our regard, if the work be but accomplished. No nation ought to be without a debt. A national debt is a national bond ; and when it bears COMMON SENSE. no interest, is in no case a grievance. Britain is oppressed with a debt of upwards of one hundred and forty millions ster- ling, for which she pays upwards of four millions interest. And as a compensation for her debt she has a lar.- navy ; America is without a debt, and without a navy ; yi-t for the twentieth part of the English national debt, could have* a navy as large again. The navy of England is not worth, at thi.s tinm, more than three million and a half sterling. The following calculations are given as a proof that the above estimation of the navy is a just one. [See Entick's Naval His- tory, Intro, p. 56.J The charge of building a ship of each rate, and furnishing her with masts, yards, sails, and rigging, together with a proportion of eight months boat- swain's and carpenter's aea-stores, as calculated by Mr. Burchett, secretary to the navy : For a ship of 100 guns 35,553 29,886 2-V.38 17,785 14,197 10,606 7,558 5,846 3,710 And hence it is easy to sum up the value, or cost, rather, of the whole British navy, which, in the year 1757, when it was at its greatest glory, consisted of the following ships and guns. Ship. 6 12 12 43 35 40 45 18 Guns. Cost of one. 100 ... 53,553 90 ... 29,886 . . 8) ... 23,638 . 70 ... 17,785 . 60 ... 14,197 ... 50 ... 10,605 40 ... 7,558 . . 20 ... 3,710 Cost of aU. 213,318 358,632 283,656 764,755 496,895 424.240 340.110 215,180 55 Sloops, bombs, and) fireships, one with V 2,000 another, at Cost . . ... 170,000 3,266,786 llemains for guns . . Total . 233,214 3,500,000 No country on the globe is so happily situated, or so inter- nally capable of raising a fleet as America. Tar, timber, iron and cordage are her natural produce. We need go abroad for COMMON SENSE. . 37 nothing. Whereas, the Dutch, who make large profits by hiring out their ships of war to the Spaniards and Portuguese, are obliged to import most of the materials they use. We ought to view the building of a fleet as an article of commerce, it being the natural manufacture of this country. It is the best money we can lay out. A navy when finished is worth more than it cost: and is that nice point in national policy, in which com- merce and protection are united. Let us build; if we want; them not, we can sell; and by that means replace our paper currency with ready gold and silver. In point of manning a fleet, people in general run into great errors; it is not necessary that one-fourth part should be sailors. The privateer Terrible, Captain Death, stood the hottest engage- ment of any ship last war, yet had not twenty sailors on board, though her complement of men was upwards of two hundred. A few able and social sailors will soon instruct a sufficient number of active landsmen in the common work of a ship. Wherefore, we never can be more capable of beginning on mari- time matters than now, while our timber is standing, our fish- eries blocked up, and our sailors and shipwrights out of employ. Men of war, of seventy and eighty guns, were built forty years ago in New England, and why not the same now 1 Ship build- ing is America's greatest pride, and in which she will, in time, excel the world. The great empires of the east are mostly in- land, and consequently excluded from the possibility of rivalling her. Africa is in a state of barbarism; and no power in Europe hath either such an extent of coast, or such an internal supply of materials. Where nature hath given the one, she hath with- held the other ; to America only hath she been liberal of both. The vast empire of Russia is almost shut out from the sea ; wherefore, her boundless forests, her tar, iron, and cordage are only articles of commerce. In point of safety, ought we to be without a fleet ? We are not the little people now, which we were sixty years ago ; at that time we might have trusted our property in the streets, or fields rather ; and slept securely without locks or bolts to our doors or windows. The case is now altered, and our methods of defence ought to improve with our increase of property. A common pirate, twelve months ago, might have come up the Delaware, and laid this city under contribution for what sum he pleased ; and the same might have happened to other places. Nay, any daring fellow, in a brig of fourteen or sixteen guns, 38 COMMON SENSE. might have robbed the whole continent, and carried ofi? half a million of money. These are circumstances which demand OUT attention, and point out the necessity of naval protection. Some perhaps, will say, that after we have made it up with Britain, she will protect us. Can they be so unwise as to mean that she will keep a navy in our harbors for that purpose 1 Common sense will tell us, that the power which hath endea- vored- to subdue us, is of all others, the most improper to defend us. Conquest may be effected under the pretence of friendship : and ourselves, after a long and brave resistance, be at last cheated into slavery. And if her ships are not to be admitted into our harbors, I would ask, how is she to protect us? A navy three or four thousand miles oft can be of little use, and on sudden emergencies, none at all Wherefore, if we must hereafter protect ourselves, why not do it for ourselves? Why do it for another? The English list of ships of war is long and tormidable, but not a tenth part of them are at any one time fit for service, numbers of them are not in being ; yet their names are pomp- ously continued in the list, if only a plank be left of the ship ; and not a fifth part of such as are fit for service, can be spared on any one station at one time. The East and West Indies, Mediterranean, Africa, and other parts of the world, over which Britain extends her claim, make large demands upon her navy. From a mixture of prejudice and inattention, we have con- tracted a false notion respecting the navy of England, and have talked as if we should have the whole of it to encounter at once, and for that reason, supposed we must have one as large ; which not being instantly practicable, has been made use of by a set of disguised tories to discourage our beginning thereon. No- thing can be further from truth than this ; for if America had only a twentieth part of the naval force of Britain, she would be by far an over-match for her; because, as we neither have nor claim any foreign dominion, our whole force would be em- ployed on our own coast, where we should, in the long run, have two to one the advantage of those who had three or four thousand miles to sail over, before they could attack us, and the same distance to return in order to refit and recruit. And although Britain, by her fleet, hath a check over our trade to Europe, we have as large a one over her trade to the West Indies, which, by laying in the neighborhood of the continent, is entirely at its mercy. COMMON SENSE. 39 Some method might be fallen on to keep up a naval force in time of peace, if we should not judge it necessary to support a constant navy. If premiums were to be given to merchants, to build and employ in their service, ships mounted with twenty, thirty, forty, or fifty guns (the premiums to be in proportion to the loss of bulk to the merchants), fifty or sixty of those ships with a few guardships on constant duty, would keep up a sufficient navy, and that without burdening ourselves with the evil so loudly complained of in England, of suffering their fleet in time of peace to lie rotting in the docks. To unite the sinews of commerce and defence is sound policy ; for when our strength and our riches play into each other's hand, we need fear no ex- ternal enemy. In almost every article of defence we abound. Hemp flourishes even to rankness, so that we need not want cordage. Our iron is superior to that of other countries. Our small arms are equal to any in the world. Cannon we can cast at pleasure. Saltpetre and gunpowder we are every day producing. Our knowledge is hourly improving. Resolution is our inherent character, and courage hath never yet forsaken us. Wherefore, what is it that we want ? Why is it that we hesitate ? From Britain we can expect nothing but ruin. If she is once admit- ted to the government of America again, this continent will not be worth living in. Jealousies will be always arising, insur- rections will be constantly happening ; and who will go forth to quell them 1 Who will venture his life to reduce his own countrymen to a foreign obedience 1 ? The difference between Pennsylvania and Connecticut, respecting some unlocated lands, shows the insignificance of a British government, and fully proves that nothing but continental authority can regulate con- tinental matters. Another reason why the present time is preferable to all others, is, that the fewer our numbers are, the more land there is yet unoccupied, which, instead of being lavished by the king on his worthless dependants, may be hereafter applied, not only to the discharge of the present debt, but to the constant support of government. No nation under heaven hath such an advantage as this. The infant state of the colonies, as it is called, so far from being against, is an argument in favor of independence. We are sufficiently numerous, and were we more so we might be less united. It is a matter worthy of observation, that the 40 COMMON SENSE. more a country is peopled, the smaller their armies are. In military numbers, the ancients far exceeded the moderns : and the reason is evident, for trade being the consequence of popu- lation, men become too much absorbed thereby to attend to any- thing efse. Commerce diminishes the spirit both of patriotism and military defence. And history sufficiently informs us, that the bravest achievements were always accomplished in the non- age of a nation. "With the increase of commerce England hath lost its spirit. The city of London, notwithstanding its num- bers, submits to continued insults with the patience of a coward. The more men have to lose, the less willing are they to venture. The rich are in general slaves to fear, and submit to courtly power with the trembling duplicity of a spaniel. Youth is the seed-time of good habits, as well in nations as in individuals. It might be difficult, if not impossible, to form the continent into one government half a century hence. The vast variety of interests, occasioned by an increase of trade and population, would create confusion. Colony would be against colony. Each being able, might scorn each other's assistance : and while the proud and foolish gloried in their little distinc- tions, the wise would lament that the union had not been formed before. Wherefore the present time is the true time for estab- lishing it. The intimacy which is contracted in infancy, and the friendship which is formed in misfortune, are, of all others, the most lasting and unalterable. Our present union is marked with both these characters; we are young, and we have been distressed; but our concord hath withstood our troubles and fixes a memorable era for posterity to glory in. The present time, likewise, is that peculiar time which never happens to a nation but once, viz., the time of forming itself into a government. Most nations have let slip the opportunity, and by that means have been compelled to receive laws from their conquerors, instead of making laws for themselves First, they had a king, and then a form of government; whereas the articles or charter of government should be formed first, and men delegated to execute them afterwards : but from the errors of other nations let us learn wisdom, and lay hold of the present opportunity to begin government at the right end. When William the Conqueror subdued England, he gave them law at the point of the sword ; and until we consent that the seat of government in America be legally and authoritatively oc- cupied, we shall be in danger of having it filled by some fortu- COMMON SENSE. 41 nate ruffian, who may treat us in the same manner, and then, where will be our freedom 1 where our property 1 As to religion, I hold it to be the indispensable duty of all governments to protect all conscientious pr lessors thereof, and I know of no other business which government hath to do there- with. Let a man throw aside that narrowness of soul, that sel- fishness of principle, which the niggards of all professions are so unwilling to part with, and he will be at once delivered of his fears on that head. Suspicion is the companion of mean souls, and the bane of all good society. For myself, I fully and con- scientiously believe, that it is the will of the Almighty that there should be a diversity of religious opinions among us : it affords a larger field for our Christian kindness. Were we all of one way of thinking, our religious dispositions would want matter for probation; and on this liberal principle, I look on the various denominations amongst us, to be like children of the same family, differing only in what is called their Christian names. In a former page, I threw out a few thoughts on the pro- priety of a Continental Charter (for I only presume to offer hints, not plans), and in this place I take the liberty of re- nientioiiing the subject, by observing that a charter is to be understood as a bond of solemn obligation, which the whole enters into, to suppoi-t the right of every separate part, whether of religion, personal freedom, or property. A firm bargain and a right reckoning make long friends. 1 have heretofore likewise mentioned the necessity of a large and equal representation ; and there is no political matter which more deserves our attention. A small number of electors, or a small number of representatives, are equally dangerous. But if the number of the representatives be not only small, but unequal, the danger is increased. As an instance of this I men- tion the following : when the associators' petition was before the house of assembly of Pennsylvania, twenty -eight members only were present; all the Bucks county members, being eight, voted against it, and had seven of the Chester members done the same, this whole province had been governed by two counties only ; and this danger it is always exposed to. The unwarrant- able stretch likewise, which that house made in their last sitting, to gain an undue authority over the delegates of this province, ought to warn the people at large, how they trust power out of their own hands. A set of instructions for their 42 COMMON SENSE. delegates were put together, which in point of sense and busi- ness would have dishonored a school-boy, and after being approved by SL few, a very few, without doors, were carried into the house, and there passed in behalf of the whole colony ; whereas, did the whole colony know with what ill-will that house had entered on some necessary public measures, they would not hesitate a moment to think them unworthy of such a trust. Immediate necessity makes many things convenient, which if continued would grow into oppressions. Expedience and right are different things. When the calamities of America required a consultation, there was no method so ready, or at that time so proper, as to appoint persons from the several houses of assembly for that purpose ; and the wisdom with which they have proceeded hath preserved this continent from ruin. But as it is more than probable that we shall never be without a Congress, every well-wisher to good order must own that the mode for choosing members of that body deserves consideration. And I put it as a question to those who make a study of man- kind, whether representation and election is not too great a power for one and the same body of men to possess? When- ever we are planning for posterity, we ought to remember that virtue is not hereditary. It is from our enemies that we often gain excellent maxims, and are frequently surprised into reason by their mistakes. Mr. Cornwall (one of the lords of the treasury) treated the petition of the New- York assembly with contempt, because thai house, he said, consisted but of twenty-six members, which trifling number, he argued, could not with decency be put for the whole. We thank him for his involuntary honesty.* To conclude. However strange it may appear to some, or however unwilling they may be to think so, matters not, but many strong and striking reasons may be given, to show, that nothing can settle our affairs so expeditiously as an open and determined declaration for independence. Some of which are, 1st, It is the custom of nations, when any two are at war, for some other powers, not engaged in the quarrel, to step in as mediators, and bring about the preliminaries of a peace ; but while America calls herself the subject of Britain, no power. * Those who would fully understand of what great consequence a lar. and equal representation is to a state, should read Burgh's Political Disqi. BitioDB. COMMON SENSE. 4o however well disposed she may be, can offer her mediation. Wherefore, in our present state, we may quarrel on for ever. 2nd, It is unreasonable to suppose, that France or Spain will give us any kind of assistance, if we mean only to make use of that assistance for the pui'pose of repairing the breach and strengthening the connexion between Britain and America ; because, those powers would be sufferers by the consequences. 3rd, While we profess ourselves the subjects of Britain, we must, in the eyes of foreign nations, be considered as rebels. The precedent is somewhat dangerous to their peace, for men to be in arms under the name of subjects ; we, on the spot, can solve the paradox : but to unite resistance and subjection, requires an idea much too refined for common understanding. 4th, Should a manifesto be published, and despatched to foreign courts, setting forth the miseries we have endured, and the peaceful methods which we have ineffectually used for redress ; declaring at the same time, that not being able, any longer, to live happily or safely under the cruel disposition of the British court, we had been driven to the necessity of breaking off all connexion with her ; at the same time, assuring all such courts of our peaceable disposition towards them, and of our desire of entering into trade with them. Such a memo- rial would produce more good effects to this continent than if a ship were freighted with petitions to Britain. Under our present denomination of British subjects, we can neither be received nor heard abroad : the custom of all courts is against us, and will be so, until, by an independence, we take rank with other nations. These proceedings may at first appear strange and difficult ; but like all other steps which we have already passed over, will in a little time become familiar and agreeable ; and, until an independence is declared, the continent will feel itself like a man who continues putting off" some unpleasant business from day to day, yet knows it must be done, hates to set about it, wishes it over, and js continually haunted with the thoughts of its necessity. COMMON SENSE. APPENDIX. SINCE the publication of the first edition of this pamphlet, or rather, on the same day on which it came out, the king's speech made its appearance in this city. Had the spirit of prophecy directed th birth of this production, it could not have brought it forth at a more seasonable juncture, or at a more necessary time. The bloody-mindedness of the one shows the necessity of pursuing the doctrine of the other. Men read by way of revenge: and the speech, instead of terrifying, pre- pared a way for the manly principles of independence. Ceremony, and even silence, from whatever motives they may arise, have a hurtful tendency when they give the least degree of countenance to base and wicked performances ; wherefore, if this maxim be admitted, it naturally follows, that the king's speech, as being a piece of finished villainy, deserved and still deserves, a general execration, both by the congress and the people. Yet, as the domestic tranquillity of the nation depends greatly on the chastity of what may properly be called national manners, it is often better to pass some things over in silent disdain, than to make use of such new methods of dislike as might introduce the least innovation on that guardian of our peace and safety. And, perhaps, it is chiefly owing to this prudent delicacy, that the king's speech hath not before now suffered a public execution. The speech, if it may be called one, is nothing better than a wilful, audacious libel against the truth, the common good, and the existence of mankind ; and is a formal and pompous method of offering up human sacrifices to the pride of tyrants. But this general massacre of mankind is one of the privileges and the certain consequences of kings ; for as nature knows them not, they know not nature; although the; are beings of our own creating, they know not us, and art-- become the gods of their creators. The speech hath one good quality, which is, that it is not calculated to deceive, neither can we, if we would, be deceived by it. Brutality and tyranny appear on the face of it. It leaves us at no loss ; and every line convinces, even in the moment of reading, that he who COMMON SENSE. 45 hunts the woods for prey, the naked and untutored Indian, is less savage than the king of Britain. Sir John Dalrymple, the putative father of a whining Jesu- itical piece, fallaciously called, "The address of the people of Eng- land to the inhabitants of America," hath perhaps, from a vain supposition that the people here were to be frightened at the pomp and description of a king, given (though very unwisely on his part) the real character of the present one : " But," says this writer, "if you are inclined to pay compliments to an ad- ministration, which we do not complain of " (meaning the Marquis of .Rockingham's at the repeal of the Stamp Act) "it is very unfair in you to withhold them from that prince by whose NOD ALONE they were permitted to do anything." This is toryism with a witness ! Here is idolatry even without a mask, and he who can calmly hear and digest such doctrine, hath forfeited his claim to rationality ; is an apostate from the order of manhood, and ought to be considered as one. who hath not only given up the proper dignity of man, but sunk himself be- neath the rank of animals, and contemptibly crawls through the world like a worm. However, it matters very little now, what the king of Eng- land either says or does; he hath wickedly broken through every moral and human obligation, trampled nature and con- science beneath his feet : and by a steady and constitutional spirit of insolence and cruelty, procured for himself an universal hatred. It is now the interest of America to provide for her- self. She hath already a large and young family, whom it is more her duty to take care of, than to be granting away her property to support a power which is become a reproach to the names of men and Christians Ye, whose office it is to watch over the morals of a nation, of whatever sect or denomination ye are of, as well as ye who are more immediately the guardians of the public liberty, if you wish to preserve your native coun- try uncontaminated by European corruption, ye must in secret wish a separation but leaving the moral part to private reflec- tion, I shall chiefly confine my further remarks to the following heads : 1st, That it is the interest of America to be separated from Britain. 2nd, Which is the easiest and most practicable plan, recon- ciliation or independence ? with some occasional remarks. In support of the first, I could, if I iudged it proper, produce 46 COMMON SENSE. the opinion of some of the ablest and most experienced men on this continent: and whose sentiments on that head are not yet publicly known. It is in reality a self-evident position : for no nation in a state of foreign dependence, limited in its commerce, and cramped and fettered in its legislative powers, can ever arrive at any material eminence. America doth not yet know what opulence is; and although the progress which she hath made stands unparalleled in the history of other nations it is but childhood, compared with what she would be capable of arriving at, had she, as she ought to have, the legislative powers in her own hands. England is, at this time, proudly coveting what would do her no good were she to accomplish it; and the continent hesitating on a matter which will be her final ruiu if! neglected. It is the commerce and not the conquest of America by which England is to be benefited, and that would in a great measure continue, were the countries as independent of each other as France and Spain; because in many articles neither can go to a better market. But it is the Independence of this country of Britain or any other } which is now the main and only object worthy of contention, and which like all other truths discovered by necessity, will appear clearer and stronger every day. 1st, Because it will come to that one time 01 other. 2nd, Because the longer it is delayed, the harder it will be to accomplish. I have frequently amused myself both in public and private companies with silently remarking the specious errors of those who speak without reflecting. And among the many which I have heard, the following seems the most general, viz., that if this rupture should happen forty or fifty years hence, instead of now, the continent would be more able to shake off the dependence. To which 1 reply, that our military ability at this time, arises from the experience gained in the last war, and which in forty or fifty years time would be totally extinct. The continent would not, by that time have a general, or even a military officer left; and we or those who may succeed us, would be as ignorant of martial matters as the ancient Indians : and this single position, closely attended to, will unanswerably prove that the present time is preferable to all others. The argument turns thus at the conclusion of the last war, we had experience, but wanted numbers; and forty or fifty years hence, we shall have numbers, without experience; wherefore, the pro- per point of time, must be some particular point between thr COMMON SENSE. 47 two extremes, in which a sufficiency of the former remains, and a proper increase of the latter is obtained: and that point of time is the present time. The reader will pardon this digression, as it does not properly come under the head I first set out with, and to which I again return by the following position, viz.: Should affairs be patched up with Britain, and she remain the governing and sovereign power of America (which, as matters are now circumstanced, is giving up the point entirely), we shall deprive ourselves of the very means of sinking the debt we have or may contract. The value of the back lands, which some of the provinces are clandestinely deprived of by the un- just extension of the limits of Canada, valued only at five pounds sterling per hundred acres, amount to upwards of twenty-five millions Pennsylvania currency; and the quit-rents at one penny sterling per acre, t - twr millions yearly. It is by the sale of those lands that the debt may be sunk, without burden to any, and the quit-rent reserved thereon, will always lessen, and in time, will wholly support the yearly ex- pense of government. It matters not how long the debt is in paying, so that the lands when sold be applied to the discharge of it, and for the execution of which, the congress for the time being, will be the continental trustees. I proceed now to the second head, viz.: Which is the easiest and most practicable plan, reconciliation or independence ? with some occasional remarks. He who takes nature for his guide, is not easily beaten out of his argument, and on that ground, T answer generally That INDEPENDENCE being a SINGLE SIMPLE LINE, contained within ourselves; and reconciliation, a matter exceedingly perplexed and complicated, and in which a treacherous, capricious court is to interfere, gives the answer without a doubt. The present state of America is truly alarming to every man who is capable of reflection. Without law, without govern- ment, without any other mode of power than what is founded on, and granted by, courtesy. Held together by an unexampled occurrence of sentiment, which is nevertheless subject to change, and which every secret enemy is endeavoring to dissolve. Our present condition is, legislation without law; wisdom without a plan; a constitution without a name; and, what is strangely astonishing, perfect independence contending for dependence. The instance is without a precedent; the case never existed 48 COMMON SENSE. before; and, who can tell what may be the event? The pro- perty of no man is secure in the present unbraced system of things. The mind of the multitude is left at random, and see- ing no fixed object before them, they pursue such as fancy or opinion presents. Nothing is criminal; there is no such a thing as treason ; wherefore, every one thinks himself at liberty to act as he pleases. The tories dared not have assembled offensively, had they known that there lives, by that act, were forfeited to the laws of the state. A line of distinction should be drawn betweed English soldiers taken in battle, and inhabitants of America taken in arms. The first are prisoners, but the latter traitors. The one forfeits his liberty, the other his head. Notwithstanding our wisdom, there is a visible feebleness in some of our proceedings which gives encouragement to dissen- tions. The Continental Belt is too loosely buckled. And if something is not done in time, it will be too late to do any thing, and we shall fall into a state, in which neither Reconcili- ation nor Independence will be practicable. The king and his worthless adherence are got at their old game of dividing the continent, amd their are not wanting among us, printers, who will be busy in spreading specious falsehoods. The artful and hypocritical letter which appeared a few months ago in two of the New York papers, and* likewise in others, is an evidence that there are men who want both judgmen j and honesty. It is easy getting into holes and corners and talking of recon- ciliation : but do such men seriously consider how difficult the task is, and how dangerous it may prove, should the continent divide thereon ] Do they take within their view, all the various orders of men whose situation and circumstances, as well as their own, are to be considered therein ? Do they put them- selves in the place of the sufferer whose all is already gone and of the soldier, who hath quitted all for the defence of his coun- try 1 If their ill-judged moderation be suited to their own pri- vate situations only, regardless of others, the event will convince them that they are reckoning without their host." Put us, say some, on the footing we were in the year 1763, to which I answer, the request is not now in the power of Bri- tain to comply with, neither will she propose it; but if it were, and even should it be granted, I ask, as a reasonable question, by what means is such a corrupt and faithless court to be kept to its engagements ? Another parliament, nay, even the pre- sent, may hereafter repeal the obligation, on the pretence of its COMMON SENSE. being violently obtained, or unwisely granted; and, in that case, where is our redress 1 ? No going to law with nations; cannon are the barristers of ci'owns; and the sword, not of justice, but of war, decides the suit. To be on the footing of 1763, it is not sufficient that the laws only be put in the same state, but that our circumstances, likewise, be put in the same state ; our burnt and destroyed towns repaired, or built up, our private losses made good, our public debts (contracted for defence) discharged ; otherwise, we shall be millions worse then we were at that en- viable period. Such a request, had it been complied with a year ago would have won the heart and soul of the continent but now it is too late: "The Rubicon is passed." Besides, the taking up arms, merely to enforce the repeal of a pecuniary law, seems as unwarrantable by the divine law, and as repugnant 'to human feelings, as the taking up arms to en- force obedience thereto. The object, on either side, doth not justifv the means; for the lives 01 men are too valuable to be cast away on such trifles It is the violence which is done and threatened to our persons; the destruction of our property by an armed force ; the invasion of our country by fire and sword, which conscientiously qualifies the use of arms : and the instant in which such mode of defence became necessary, all subjection to Britain ought to have ceased; and the independence of America should have been considered as dating its era from, and published by, the jv-st musket that was fired against her. This line is a line of consistency; neither drawn by caprice, nor extended by ambition; but produced by a chain of events, of which the colonies were not the authors. I shall conclude these remarks, with the following timely and well-intended hints. We ought to reflect that there are three different ways by which an independency may hereafter be effec- ted; and that one of those three, will, one day or other, be the fate of America, viz , By the legal voice of the people in con- gress; but a military power; or by a mob; it may not always happen that our soldiers are citizens, and the multitude a body of reasonable men; virtue, as I have already remarked, is not hereditary, neither is it perpetual. Should an independency be brought about by the first of those means, we have every opportunity and every encouragement before us to form the noblest, purest constitution on the face of the earth. We have it in our power to begin the world over again. A situation, similar to the present, hath not happened since the days of Noah 50 COMMON SENSE. until now. The birthday of a new world is at hand, and a race of men, perhaps as numerous as all Europe contains, are to receive their portion of freedom from the events of a few months. The reflection is awful and in this point of view, how trifling, how ridiculous, do the little palrty cavilings, of a few weak or interested men appear, when weighed against the busi- ness of a world. Should we neglect the present favorable and inviting period, and independence be hereafter effected by any other means, we must charge the consequence to ourselves, or to those rather, whose narrow and prejudiced souls, are habitually opposing the measure, without either inquiring or reflecting. There are reasons to be given in support of independence, which men should rather privately think of, than be publicly told of. We ought not now to be debating whether we shall be independent or not, but anxious to accomplish it on a firm, secure and honor- able basis, and uneasy rather, that it is not yet began upon. Every day convinces us of necessity. Even the tories (if such things yet remain among us) should, of all men, be the most solicitous to promote it; for as the appointment of committee* at first, protected them from popular rage, so, a wise and welJ- established form of goverment will be the only means of con- tinuing it securely to them. Wherefore, if they have no virtue enough to be Whigs, they ought to have prudence enough to wish for independence. In short, independence is the only bond that tie and keep us together. We shall then see our object, and our ears will be legally shut against the schemes of an intriguing, as well as cruel, enemy. We shall then, too, be on a proper footing to treat with Britain ; for there is reason to conclude, that the pride of that court will be less hurt with treating with the American states for terms of peace, than with those whom she denominates ''rebellious subjects," for terms of accommodation. It is our delaying it that encourages her to hope for conquest, and our backwardness tends only to prolong the war. As we have, without any good effect therefrom, withheld our trade to obtain a redress of our grievances, let us now try the alternative, by independendently redressing them ourselves, and then offering to open the trade. The mercantile and reasonable part of Eng- land will be still with us; because peace with trade, is prefer- able to war, without it. And if this offer be not accepted, other courts may be applied to. COMMON SENSE. 51 On these grounds I rest the matter. And as no offer hath yet been made to refute the doctrine contained in the former editions of this pamphlet, it is a negative proof, that either the doctrine cannot be refuted, or that the party in favor of it are too numerous to be opposed. Wherefore, instead of gazing at each other, with suspicious or doubtful curiosity, let each of us hold out to his neighbor the hearty hand of friendship, and unite in drawing a line, which, like an act of oblivion, shall bury in forgetfulness every former dissention. Let the names of whig and tory be extinct ; and let none other be heard among us, than those of a good citizen; an open and resolute friend; and a virtu- ous supporter of the BIGHTS of MANKIND, and of the FBEE AND INDEPENDENT STATES OP AMERICA. THE END OF COMMON SENSE. THE CRISIS. THE CEISIS. NUMBER I. THESE are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country ; but he that stands it NOW, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; 'tis dearness only that gives everything its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods; and it would be strange in- deed, if so celestial an article as FREEDOM should not be highly rated. Britain, with an army to enforce her tyranny, has de- clared that she has a right (not only to TAX) but " to BIND us in ALL CASES WHATSOEVER," and if being bound in that manner, is not slavery, then is there not such a thing as slavery upon earth. Even the expression is impious, for so unlimited a power can belong only to God. Whether the independence of the continent was declared too soon, or delayed too long, I will not now enter into as an argu- ment ; my own simple opinion is, that had it been eight months earlier, it would have been much better. We did not make a proper use of last winter, neither could we, while we were in a dependent state. However, the fault, if it were one, was all our own ; we have none to blame but ourselves. But no great deal is lost yet; all that Howe has been doing for this month past, is rather a ravage than a conquest, which the spirit of the Jerseys a year ago would have quickly repulsed, and which time and a little resolution will soon recover. I have as little superstition in me as any man living, but my secret opinion has ever been, and still is, that God Almighty will not give up a people to military destruction, or leave them unsupportedly to perish, who have so earnestly and so repeat- edly sought to avoid the calamities of war, by every decent method which wisdom could invent Neither have I so much 56 THE C of the infidel in me, as to suppose that he has relinquished the government of the world, and given us up to the care of devils ; and as I do not, I cannot see on what grounds the. king of Britain can look up to heaven for help against us : a common murderer, a highwayman, or a house-breaker, has as good a pre- tence as he. "Tis surprising to see how rapidly a panic will sometimes run through a country. All nations and ages have been subject to them: Britain has trembled like an ague at the report of a French fleet of flat-bottomed boats; and in the fourteenth cen- tury the whole English army, after ravaging the kingdom of France, was driven back like men petrified with fear; and this brave exploit was performed by a few broken forces collected and headed by a woman, Joan of Arc. Would that heaven might inspire some Jersey maid to spirit up her countrymen, and save her fair fellow sufferers from ravage and ravishment ! Yet panics, in some cases, have their uses; they produce as much good as hurt. Their duration is always short; the mind soon grows through them, and acquires a firmer habit than before. But their peculiar advantage is, that they are the touchstones of sincerity and hypocrisy, and bring things and men to light, which might otherwise have lain forever undis- covered. In fact, the}' have the same effect on secret traitors which an imaginary apparition would have upon a private murderer. They sift out the hidden thoughts of man, and hold them up in public to the world. Many a disguised tory has lately shown his head, that shall penitentially solemnize with curses the day on which Howe arrived upon the Delaware. As I was with the troops at Fort Lee, and marched with them to the edge of Pennsylvania, I am well acquainted with many circumstances, which those who live at a distance, know but little or nothing of. Our situation there, was exceedingly cramped, the place being a narrow neck of land between the North River and the Hackensack. Our force was inconsider- able, being not one-fourth so great as Howe could bring against us. We had no army at hand to have relieved the garrison, had we shut ourselves up and stood on our defence. Our am- munition, light artillery, and the best part of our stores, had been removed, on the apprehension that Howe would endeavor to penetrate the Jerseys, in which case Fort Lee could be of no use to us ; for it must occur to every thinking man, whether in the army or not, that these kind of field forts are only for tern- THE CRISIS. 57 porary purposes, and last in use no longer than the enemy directs his force against the particular object, which such forts are raised to defend, such was our situation and condition at fort Lee on the morning of the 20th of November, when an officer arrived with information that the enemy with 200 boats had landed about seven miles above : Major General Green, who commanded the garrison, immediately ordered them under arms, and sent express to General Washington at the town of Hackensnck, distant, by the way of the ferry, six miles Our first object wae io secure the bridge over the Hackensack, which laid up cLe river between the enemy and us, about six miles from UP, and three from them. General Washington ar- rived in about lii roe quarters of an hour, and marched at the head of the- troops towards the bridge, which place I expected we should have a brush for ; however, they did not choose to dispute it with us, and the greatest part of our troops went over the bridge, the rest over the ferry except some which passed at a mill on a small creek, between the bridge and the ferry, and made their way through some marshy grounds up to the town of Hackensack, and there passed the river. We brought off as much baggage as the wagons could contain, the rest was lost. The simple object was to bring off the garrison, and march them on till they could be strengthened by the Jer- sey or Pennsylvania militia, so as to be enabled to make a stand. We stayed four days at Newark, collected our out-posts with some of the Jersey militia, and marched out twice to meet the enemy, on being informed that they were advancing, though our numbers were greatly inferior to theirs. Howe, in my lit- tle opinion, committed a great error in generalship in not throwing a body of forces off from Staten Island through Am- boy, by which means he might have seized all our stores at Brunswick, and intercepted our march into Pennsylvania : but if we believe the power of hell to be limited, we must likewise believe that their agents are under some providential control. I shall not now attempt to give all the particulars of our retreat to the Delaware; suffice for the present to say, that both officers and men, though greatly harassed and fatigued, without rest, covering, or provision, the inevitable consequences of a long retreat, bore it with a manly and martial spirit. All their wishes centred in one, which was, that the country would turn out and help them to drive the enemy back. Voltaire has remarked that King William never appeared ^ full advantage 58 THE CRISIS. but in difficulties and in action ; the same remark may be made on General Washington, for the character tits him. There is a natural firmness in some minds which cannot be unlocked by trifles, but which, when unlocked, discovers a cabinet of forti- tude ; and I reckon it among those kind of public blessings, which we do not immediately see, that God hath blest him witli uninterrupted health, and given him a mind that can even flourish upon care. I shall conclude this paper with some miscellaneous remarks on the state of our affairs ; and shall begin with asking the following question: Why is it that the enemy have leit the New-England provinces, and made these middle ones the seat of war ? The answer is easy : New-England is not infested with tories, and we are. I have been tender in raising the cry against these men, and I used numberless arguments to show them their danger, but it will not do to sacrifice a world either to their folly or their baseness. The period is now arrived, in phich either they or we must change our sentiments, or one or both must fall. And what is a tory 1 Good God! what is he? I should not be afraid to go with a hundred whigs against a thousand tories, were they to attempt to get into arms. Every tory is a coward ; for servile, slavish, self-interested fear is the foundation of toryism; and a man under such influence, though he may be cruel, never can be brave. But, before the line of irrecoverable separation be drawn between us, let us reason the matter together : your cond\ict is an invitation to the enemy, yet not one in a thousand of you has heart enough to join him. Howe is as much deceived by you as the American cause is injured by you. He expects you will all take up arms, and flock to his standard, with muskets on your shoulders. Your opinions are of no use to him, unless you support him personally, for 'tis soldiers, and not tories that he wants. I once felt all that kind of anger, which a man ought to feel, against the mean principles that are held by the tories: a noted one, who kept a tavern at Amboy, was standing at his door, with as pretty a child in his hand, about eight or nine years old, as I ever saw, and after speaking his mind as freely as he thought was prudent, finished with this unfatherly expression, " Well/ give me peace in my day." Not a man lives on the continent but fully believes that a separation must some time dr other finally take place, and a generous parent should have THE CRISIS. 5!) said, "If there must be trouble let it be in my day, that my child may have peace;" and this single reflection, well applied, is sufficient to awaken every man to duty. Not a place upon earth might be so happy as America. Her situation is remote from all the wrangling world,and she has nothing to do but to trade with them. A man can distinguish himself between temper and principle, and I am as confident, as I am that God governs the world, that America will never be happy till she gets clear of foreign dominion. Wars, without ceasing, will break out till that period arrives, and the continent must in the end be conqueror ; for though the flame of liberty may sometimes cease to shine, the coal can never expire. America did not, nor does not want force ; but she wanted a proper application of that force. Wisdom is not the purchase of a day, and it is no wonder that we should err at the first setting off. From an excess of tenderness, we were unwilling to raise an army, and trusted our cause to the temporary defence of a well-meaning militia. A summer's experience has now taught us better; yet with those troops, while they were col- lected, we were able to set bounds to the progress of the enemy, and, thank God! they are again assembling. I always consider militia as the best troops in the world for a sudden exertion, but they will not do for a long campaign. Howe, it is probable, will make an attempt on this city ; should he fail on this side the Delaware, he is ruined: if he succeeds, our cause is not ruined. He stakes all on his side against a part on ours; ad- mitting he succeeds, the consequence will be, that armies from both ends of the continent will march to assist their suffering friends in the middle states; for he cannot go everywhere; it is impossible. I consider Howe the greatest enemy the tories have; he is bringing a war into their country, which, had it not been for him and partly for themselves, they had been clear of. Should he now be expelled, I wish with all the devotion of a Christian, that the names of whig and tory may never more lie mentioned; but should the tories give him encouragement to come, or assistance if he come, I as sincerely wish that our next year's arms may expel them from the continent, and that con- gress appropriate their possessions to the relief of those who have suffered in -well doing. A single successful batttle next year will settle the whole. America could carry on a two year's war by the confiscation of the property of disaffected persons; and be made happy by their expulsion. Say not that this is 60 THE CEISIS. revenge, call it rather the soft resentment of a suffering people, who, having no object in view but the good of all, have staked their own all upon a seemingly doubtful event. Yet it is folly to argue against determined hardness ; eloquence may strike the ear, and the language of sorrow draAv forth the tear of compas- sion, but nothing can reach the heart that is steeled with pre- judice. Quitting this class of men, I turn with the warm ardor of a friend to those who have nobly stood, and are yet determined to stand the matter out: I call not upon a few, but upon all: not on this state or that state, but on every state ; up and help us ; lay your shoulders to the wheel ; better have too much force than too little, when so great an object is at stake. Let it be told to the future world, that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive, that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet and to repulse it. Say not that thousands are gone, turn out your tens of thousands; throw not the burden of the day upon Providence, but "show your faith by your works" that God may bless you. It matters not where you live, or what rank of life you hold, the evil or the blessing will reach you all. The far and the near, the home counties and the back, the rich and the poor, will suffer or rejoice alike. The heart that feels not now, is dead : the blood of his children will curse his cowardice, who shrinks back at a time when a little might have saved the whole, and made them happy. I love the man that can smile at trouble, that can gather strength frcm distress, and grow brave by reflection. 'Tis the business of little minds to shrink ; but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death. My own line of reasoning is to myself as straight and clear as a ray of light. Not all the treasures of the world, so far as I believe, could have induced me to support an offensive war, for I think it murder; but if a thief breaks into my house, burns and destroys my property, and kills or threatens to kill me, or those that are in it, and to "bind me in all cases whatsoever," to his absolute will, am I to suffer it ? What signifies it to me, whether he who does it is a king or a common man; my countryman, or not my countryman; whether it be done by an individual villain or an army of them ? If we reason to the root of things we shall find no diSerence; neither can any just cause be assigned why we should punish in the one case and pardon in the other. THE CRISIS. 61 Let them call me rebel, and welcome, I feel no concern from it ; but I should suffer the misery of devils, where I to make a whore of my soul by swearing allegiance to one whose character is that of a sottish, stupid, stubborn, worthless, brutish man. I conceive likewise a horrid idea in receiving mercy from a being, who at the last day shall be shrieking to the rocks and mountains to cover him, and fleeing with terror from the orphan, the widow, and the slain of America. There are cases which cannot be overdone by language, and this is one. There are persons too who see not the full extent of the evil which threatens them ; they solace themselves with hopes that the enemy, if he succeed, will be merciful. Is this the madness of folly, to expect mercy from those who have re- fused to do justice; and even mercy, where conquest is the object, is only a trick of war; the cunning of the fox is as murderous as the violence of the wolf; and we ought to guard equally against both. Howe's first object is partly by threats and partly by promises, to terrify or seduce the people to deliver up their arms and to receive mercy. The ministry recommended the same plan to Gage, and this is what the tories call making their peace, " a peace which passeth all understanding" indeed! A peace which would be the immediate forerunner of a worse ruin than any we have yet thought of. Ye men of Pennsyl- vania, do reason upon these things ! Were the back counties to give up their arms, they would fall an easy prey to the Indians, who are all armed; this perhaps is what some tories would not be sorry for. Were the home counties to deliver up their arms, they would be exposed to the resentment of the back counties, who would then have it in their power to chastise their defection at pleasure. And were any one state to give up its arms, that state must be garrisoned by Howe's army of Britains and Hessians to preserve it from the anger of the rest. Mutual fear is the principal link in the chain of mutual love, and woe be to that state that breaks the compact. Howe is 'mercifully invit- ing you to barbarous destruction, and men must be either rogues or fools that will not see it. I dwell not upon the powers of imagination; I bring reason to your ears; and in language as plain as A, B, C, hold up truth to your eyes. I thank God that I fear not. I see no real cause for fear. I know our situation well and can see the way out of it. While our army was collected, Howe dared not risk a battle, and it is no credit to him that he decamped from the White Plains, and 62 THE CRISIS. waited a mean opportunity to ravage the defenceless Jerseys ; but it is great credit to us, that, with a handful of men, we sus- tained an orderly retreat for near an hundred miles, brought off' our ammunition, all our field pieces, the greatest part of our stores, and had four rivers to pass. None can say that our re- treat was precipitate, for we were near three weeks in perform- ing it, that the country might have time to come in. Twice we marched back to meet the enemy, and remained out till dark. The sign of fear was not seen in our camp, and had not some of the cowardly and disaffected inhabitants sp 'tad false alarms through the country, the Jerseys had nev.:r been ravaged. Once more we are again collected and collecting, our new army at both ends of the continent is recruiting fast, and we shall be able to open the next campaign with sixty thousand men, well armed and clothed. This is our situation, and who will may know it. By perseverance and fortitude we have the prospect of a glorious issue ; by cowardice and submission, the sad choice of a variety of evils a ravaged country a depopulated city habitations without safety, arid slavery without hope our homes turned into barracks and bawdy-houses for Hessians, and a future race to provide for, whose fathers we shall doubt of. Look on this picture and weep over it ! and if there yet remains one thoughtless wretch who believes it not, let him suffer it un- lamented. COMMON S N-SE. December S3, 1776. NUMBER IL TO LORD HOWFJ What's in the name of lord that I should fear To bring my grievance to the public ear ? CHUBCHHL. UNIVERSAL empire is the prerogative of a writer. His con- cerns are with all mankind, and though he cannot command their obedience, he can assign them their duty. The Republic of Letters is more ancient than monarchy, and of far higher character in the world than the vassal court of Britain; he that rebels against reason is a real rebel, but he that in defence of reason, rebels against tyranny, has a better title to " Defender of the Faith" than George the third. THE CRISIS. As a military man your lordship may hold out the sword of war, and call it the "ultima ratio regum:" the last reason of Kings; we in return can show you the sword of justice, and call it, "the best scourge of tyrants." The first of these two may threaten, or even frighten for a while, and cast a sickly languor over an insulted people, but reason will soon recover the debauch, and restore them again to tranquil fortitude. Your lordship, I find, has now commenced author, and pub- lished a Proclamation; I have published a Crisis; as they stand, they are the antipodes of each other; both cannot rise at once, and one of them must descend; and so quick is the revolution of things, that your lordship's performance, I see, has already fallen many degrees from its first place, and is now just visible on the edge of the political horizon. It is surprising to what a pitch of infatuation, blind folly and obstinacy will carry mankind, and your lordship's drowsy pro- clamation is a proof that it does not even quit them in their sleep. Perhaps you thought America too was taking a nap, and therefore chose, like Satan to Eve, to whisper the delusion softly, lest you should awaken her. This continent, sir, is too extensive to sleep all at once, and too watchful, even in its slumbers, not to startle at the unhallowed foot of an invader. You may issue your proclamations, and welcome, for we have learned to " reverence ourselves," and scorn the insulting ruffian that employs you. America, for your deceased brother's sake, would gladly have shown you respect, and it is a new aggrava- tion to her feelings, that Howe should be forgetful, and raise his sword against those, who at their own charge raised a monu- ment to his brother. But your master has commanded, and you have not enough of nature left to refuse. Surely there must be something strangely degenerating in the love of monarchy, that can so completely wear a man down to an ingrate, and make him proud to lick the dust that kings have trod upon. A few more years, should you survive them, will bestow on you the title of " an old man ;" and in some hour of future reflection you may probably find the fitness of "VVolsey's despairing peni- tence " had I served my God as faithfully as I have served my king, he would not thus have forsaken me in my old age." The character you appear to us in, is truly ridiculous. Your friends, the tories, announced your coming with high descrip- tions of your unlimited powers; but your proclamation has given them the lie, by showing you to be a commissioner with 64 THE CRISIS. out authority. Had your powers been ever so great, they were nothing to us, further than we pleased; because we had the same right which other nations had, to do what we thought was best. " The UNITED STATES of AMERICA," will sound as pom- pously in the world or in history, as "the kingdom of Great Britain;" the character of General Washington will fill a page with as much lustre as that of Lord Howe: and the congress have as much right to command the king and parliament in Lon- don, to desist from legislation, as tJiey or you have to command the congress. Only suppose how laughable such an edict would appear from us, and then, in that merry mood, do but turn the tables upon yourself, and you will see how your proclamation is received here. Having thus placed you in a proper position in which yon may have a full view of your folly, and learn to des- pise it, I hold up to you, for that purpose, the following quota- tion from your own lunarian proclamation. "And we (lord Howe and general Howe) do command (and in his majesty's name forsooth) all such persons as are assembled together, under the name of general or provincial congresses, committees, con- ventions, or other associations, by whatever name or names known and distinguished, to desist and cease from all such trea- sonable actings and doings." You introduce your proclamation 5y referring to your de- clarations of the 14th of July and 19th of September. In the last of these, you sunk yourself below the character of a private gentleman. That I may not seem to accuse you unjustly, I shall state the circumstance : by a verbal invitation of yours, communicated to congress by General Sullivan, then a prisoner on his parole, you signified your desire of conferring with somr> members of that body as private gentlemen. It was beneath the dignity of the American congress to pay any regard to a message that at best was but a genteel affront, and had too much of the ministerial complexion of tampering with private persons ; and which might probably have been the case, had the gentlemen who were deputed on the business, possessed that kind of easy virtue which an English courtier is so truly dis- tinguished by. Your request, however, was complied with, for honest men are naturally more tender of their civil than their political fame. The interview ended as every sensible man thought it would; for your lordship knows, as well as the writer of the Crisis, that it is impossible for the king of Eng- land to promise the repeal, or even the revisa] of any acts of THE CRISIS. 65 parliament; wherefore, on your part, you had nothing to say, more than to request, in the room of demanding, the entire sur- render of the continent; and then, if that was complied with, to promise that the inhabitants should escape with their lives. This was the upshot of the conference. You informed the con- ferees that you were two months in soliciting these powers. We ask, what powers? for as commissioner you have none. If you mean the power of pardoning, it is an oblique proof that your master was determined to sacrifice all before him: and that you were two months in dissuading him from his purpose. Another evidence of his savage obstinacy! From your own account of the matter we may justly draw these two conclu- sions: 1st, That you serve a monster; 2nd, That never was a messenger sent on a more foolish errand than yourself. This plain language may perhaps sound uncouthly to an ear vitiated by courtly refinements; but words were made for use, and the fault lies in deserving them, or the abuse in applying them unfairly. Soon after your return to New York, you published a very illiberal and unmanly handbill against the congress; for it was certainly t tepping out of the line, of common civility, first to screen your national pride by soliciting an interview with them as private gentlemen, and in the conclusion to endeavor to de- ceive the multitude by making a handbill attack on the whole body of the congress ; you got them together under one name, and abused them under another. But the king you serve, and the cause you support, afford you so few instances of acting the gentleman, that out of pity to your situation the congress par- doned the insult by taking no notice of it. Vou say in that handbill, " that they, the congress, disa- vowed every purpose for reconciliation not consonant with their extravagant and inadmissible claim of independence." Why, God bless me ! what have you to do with our 'independence 1 We ask no leave of yours to set it up; we ask no money of yours to support it; we can do better without your fleets and armies than with them; you may soo"h have enough to do to protect yourselves without being burdened with us. We are very willing to be at peace with you, to buy of you and sell to you, and, like young beginners in the world, to work for our living; therefore, why do you put yourselves out of cash, when we know you cannot spare it, and we do not desire you to run into debt 1 ? I am willing, sir, that you should see your folly in 6 66 THE CRISIS. every point of lew I can place it in, and for that reason de- scend sometimes to tell you in jest what I wish you to see in earnest. But to be more serious with you, why do you say, "their independence 1" To set you right, sir, we tell you, that the independency is ours, not theirs. The congress were au- thorized by every state on the continent to publish it to all the world, and in so doing are not to be considered as the inven- tors, but only as the heralds that proclaimed it, or the office from which the sense of the people received a legal form ; and it was as much as any or all their heads were worth, to have treated with you on the subject of submission under any name whatever. But we know the men in whom we have trusted ; can England say the same of her parliament 1 I come now more particularly to your proclamation of the 30th of November last. Had you gained an entire conquest over all the armies of America, and then put forth a proclama- tion, offering (what you call) mercy, your conduct would have had some specious show of humanity; but to creep by surprise into a province, and there endeavor to terrify and seduce the inhabitants from their just allegiance to the rest by promises, which you neither meant, ner were able to fulfil, is both cruel and unmanly : cruel in its effects ; because, unless you can keep all the ground you have marched over, how are you in the words of your proclamation, to secure to your proselytes " the enjoyment of their property?" What is to become of your new adopted subjects, or your old friends, the tories, in Bur- lington, Bordentown, Trenton, Mountholly, and many other places, where you proudly lorded it for a few days, and then fled with the precipitation of a pursued thief ? What, I say, is to become of those wretches ? What is to become of those who went over to you from this city and state ? What more can you say to them "than shift for yourselves?" Or what more can they hope for than to wander like vagabonds over the face of the earth ? You may now tell them to take their leave of America, and all that once was theirs. Recommend them, for consolation, to your master's court; there perhaps they may make a shift to live on the scraps of some dangling parasite, and choose companions among thousands like themselves. A traitor is the foulest fiend on earth. In a political sense we ought to thank you for thus bequeath- ing estates to the continent; we shall soon, at this rate be able to carry on a war without expense, and grow rich by the ill- THE CRISIS. 67 policy of Lord Howe, and the generous defection of the tories. Had you set your foot into this c.ty, you would have bestowed estates upon us which we never thought of, by bringing forth traitors we were unwilling to suspect. But these men, you'll say, "are his majesty's most faithful subjects;" let that honor, then, be all their fortune, and let his majesty take them to himself. I am now thoroughly disgusted with them; they live in un- grateful ease, and bend their whole minds to mischief. It seems as if God had given them over to a spirit of infidelity, and that they are open to conviction in no other line but that of punish- ment. It is time to have done with tarring, feathering, carting and taking securities for their future good behavior; every sensible man must feel a conscious shame at seeing a poor fel- low hawked for a show about the streets, when it is known that he is only the tool of some principal villain, biassed into his offence by the force of false reasoning, or bribed thereto through sad necessity: We dishonor ourselves by attacking such trifling characters while greater ones are suffered to escape ; 'tis our duty to find them out. and their pi'oper punishment would be to exile them from the continent forever. The circle of them is not so great as some imagine; the influence of a few have tainted many who are not naturally corrupt. A continual cir- culation of lies among those who are not much in the way of hearing them contradicted, will in time pass for truth ; and the crime lies not in the believer but the inventor. 1 am not for declaring war with every man that appears not so warm as myself: difference of constitution, temper, habit of speaking, and many other things, will go a great way in fixing the out- ward character of a man, yet simple honesty may remain at the bottom. Some men have naturally a military turn, and can brav e hardships and the risk of life with a cheerful face ; others have not ; no slavery appears to them so great as the fatigue of arms, and no terror so powerful as that of personal danger. What can we say 1 We cannot alter nature, neither ought we to punish the son because the father begot him in a cowardly mood. However, I believe most men have more courage than they know of, and that a little at first is enough to begin with. I knew the time when I thought that the whistling of a cannon ball would have frightened me almost to death : but I have since tried it, and find that I can stand it with as little discomposure, and, I believe, with a much easier conscience than your lord- 68 THE CRISIS. ship. The same dread would return to me again were I in your situation, for my solemn belief of your cause is, that it is hellish and damnable, and, under that conviction, every thinking man's heart must fail him. From a concern that a good cause should be dishonored by the least disunion among us, I said in my former paper, No. 1. "That should the enemy now be expelled, I wish with all the sincerity of a Christion, that the names of whig and tory might never more be mentioned," but there is a knot of men among us of such a venomous cast, that they will not admit even oue r s good wishes to act in their favor. Instead of rejoicing that heaven had, as it were, providentially preserved this city from plunder and destruction, by delivering so great a part of the enemy into our hands with so little effusion of blood, they stub- bornly affected to disbelieve it till within an hour, nay, half an hour, of the prisoners arriving; and the Quakers put forth a testimony, dated the 20th of December, signed -'John Pember- ton," declaring their attachment to the British government.* These men are continually harping on the great sin of our bearing arms, but the king of Britain may lay waste the world in blood and famine, and they, poor fallen souls, have nothing to say. In some future paper, I intend to distinguish between the different kind of persons who have been denominated tories; for this I am clear in, that all are not so who have been called so, nor all men whigs who were once thought so; and as I mean not to conceal the name of any true friend when there shall be occasion to mention him, neither will I that of an enemy, who ought to be known, let his rank, station, or religion be what it may. Much pains have been taken by some to set your lord- ship's private character in an amiable light, but as it has chiefly been done by men who know nothing about you, and who are uo ways remarkable for their attachment to us, we have no just * I have ever been careful of charging offences upon whole societies of men, but as the paper referred to is put forth by an unknown set of men, who claim to themselves the right of representing the whole ; and while the whole society of Quakers admit its validity, by silent acknowledgment, it is Impossible that any distinction can be made by the public : and the more so, because the New York paper o.m that day to this, the number of German troops and officers twisting her have been about equal with her own; ten thousand 3 Cossians were sent to England last war to protect her from a French invasion; and she would have cut but a poor linn re in her Canadian and West-Indian expeditions, had not America been lavish both of her money and men to help her along. The only instance in wliich she was engaged singly, that I can recollect, was against the rebellion in Scotland, in the year 1 743 and 1 74G, and in that, out of three battles, she was twice beaten, till by thus reducing their numbers (as we shall yours), and talcing a supply ship that was coming to Scotland with clothes, arms and money (as we have often done), she was at last enabled to de- feat them. England was never famous by land; her officers have generally been suspected of cowardice, have more of the air of a dancing-master than a soldier, and by the samples which we have taken prisoners, we give the preference to ourselves. Her strength, of late, has lain in her extravagance ; but as her finances and credit are now low, her sinews in that line begin to fail fast.. As a nation she is the poorest in Europe ; for were the whole kingdom, and all that is in it, to be put up for sale like the estate of a bankrupt, it would not fetch as much as she owes ; yet this thoughtless wretch must go to war, and with the avowed design, too, of making us beasts of burden, to support THE CRISIS. 75 her in riot and debauchery, and to assist her afterwards in distressing those nations who are now our best friends. This ingratitude may suit a tory, or the unchristian peevishness of a fallen Quaker, but none else. Tis the unhappy temper of the English to be pleassd with any war, right or wrong, be it but successful; but they soon grow discontented with ill-fortune, and it is an even chance that, they are as clamorous for peace next summer, as the king and his ministers were for war last winter. In this natiiral view of lit Ings, your lordship stands in a very critical situation: your whole character is now staked upon your laurels; if they wit-hcr, you will wither with them; if they flourish, you cannot hvi- lorij; to look at them; and at any rate, the black account hereafter is not far off. What lately appeared to us misfor- tunes, were only blessings in disguise; and the seeming advan- tages on your side have turned out to our profit. Even our lo.vi of this city, as far as we can see might be a principal gain to us: the mure surface you spread over, the thinner you will bo, and tho easier wiped away ; and our consolation under that apparent disaster would be, that the estates of the tories would become securities for the repairs. In short, there is no old ground we can fail upon, but some new foundation rises again to support us. " We have put, sir, our hands to the plow, and cur sod be he that looketh back." Your king, in his speech to parliament last spring, declared, "That ho L'id no doubt but the great force they had enabled him to Sv,ud to America, would effectually reduce the rebellious colonies." It has not, neither can it; but it has done just enough to 1 y the foundation of its own next year's ruin. You are sunoible that you left England in a divided, distracted state of politics, and, by the command you had there, you became the principal prop of the court party; their fortunes rest on yours; by a single express you can fix their value with the pub- lic, and the degree to which their spirits shall rise and fall ; they are in your hands as stock, and you have the secret of the alley with you. Thus situated and connected, you become the unin- tentional mechanical instrument of your own and their over- throw. The king and his ministers put conquest out of doubt, and the credit of both depended on the proof. To support them in the interim, it was necessary that you should make the most of everything, and' we can tell by Hugh Gaine's New York paper what the complexion of the London Gazette is. 76 THE CRISIS. With such a list of victories the nation cannot expect you will ask new supplies; and confess your want of them, would give the lie to your triumphs, and impeach the king and his minis- ters of treasonable deception. If you make the necessary demand at home, your party sinks; if you .make it not, you sink yourself; to ask it now is too late, and to ask it before was too soon, and unless it arrive quickly will be of no use. In short, the part you have to act, cannot be acted ; and I am fully persuaded that all you have to trust to is, to do the best you can with what force you have got, or little more. Though we have greatly exceeded you in point of generalship and bravery of men, yet, as a people we have not entered into the full soul of enterprise; for I, who know England and the disposition of the people well, am confident, that it is easier for us to effect a rev- olution there than a conquest here ; a few thousand men landed in England with the declared design of deposing the present king, bringing his ministers to trial, and setting up the Duke of Gloucester in his stead, would assuredly carry their point, while you were grovelling here ignorant of the matter. As I send all my papers to England, this like "Common Sense," will find its way there; and though it may put one party on their guard, it will inform the other, and the nation in general, of our design to help them. Thus far, sir, I have endeavored to give you a picture of pres- ent affairs: you may draw from it what conclusions you please. I wish as well to the true prosperity of England as you can, but I consider INDEPENDENCE America's natural right and interest, and I never could see any real disservice it would be to Britain. If an English merchant receives an order, and is paid for it, it signifies nothing to him who governs the coun- try. This is my creed of politics. If I have anywhere ex- pressed myself over-warmly, 'tis from a fixed, immovable hatred 1 have, and ever had, to cruel men and cruel measures. I have likewise an aversion to monarchy, as being too debasing to the dignity of man; but I never troubled others with my notions till very lately, nor ever published a syllable in Eng land in my life. What I write is pure nature, and my pen arid my soul have ever gone together. My writings I have always given away, reserving only the expense of printing and paper, and sometimes not even that. I never courted either fame or interest, and my manner of life, to those who know it, will justify what I say. My study is to be useful, and if your THE CRISIS. 77 lordship loves mankind as well as I do, you -would, seeing you cannot conquer us, cast about and lend your hand towards accom- plishing a peace. Our independence, with God's blessing, we will maintain against all the world; but as we wish to avoid evil ourselves, we wish not to inflict it on others. I am never over-inquisitive into the secrets of the cabinet, but I have some notion, that if you neglect the present opportunity, that it will not bft in our power to make a separate peace with you after- wards; for whatever treaties or alliances we form, we shall most faithfully abide by ; wherefore you may be deceived if you think you can make it with us at any time. A lasting, inde- pendent peace is my wish, end, and aim; and to accomplish that, "/ pray God the Americans may never be defeated, and 1 trust while they have good officers, and are well commanded," and will- ing to be commanded, "that they NEVER WILL BE." COMMON SENSE. PHILADELPHIA, Jan. 13, 1777, NUMBER IIL IN the progress of politics, as in the common occurrences of life, we are not only apt to forget the ground we have travelled over, but frequently neglect to gather up experience as we go. We expend, if I may so say, the knowledge of every day on the circumstances that produce it, and journey on in search of new matter and new refinements: but as it is pleasant and sometimes useful to look back, even to the first periods of infancy, and trace the turns and windings through which we have passed, so we may likewise derive many advantages by halting a while in .our political career, and taking a review of the wondrous com- plicated labyrinth of little more than yesterday. Truly may we say, that never did men grow old in so short a time ! We have crowded the business of an age into the com- pass of a few months, and have been driven through such a rapid succession of things, that for the want of leisure to think, we unavoidably wasted knowledge as we came, and have left nearly as much behind us as we brought with us : but the road is yet rich with the fragments, and, before we fully lose sight of them, will repay ua for the trouble of stopping to pick them up. Were a man to be totally deprived of memory, he would be 78 THE CRISIS^ incapable of forming any just opinion ; everything about him would seem a chaos; he would have even his own history to ask from every one : and by not knowing how the world went in his absence, he would be at a loss to know how it ought to go on when he recovered, or rather, returned to it again. In like manner, though in a less degree, a too great inattention to past occurrences retards and bewilders our judgment in every thing; while, on the contrary, by comparing what is past with what is present, we frequently hit on the true character of both, and become wise with very little trouble. It is a kind of coun- ter-march, by which we get into the rear of time, and mark the movements and meaning of things as we make our return. There are certain circumstances, which, at the time of their hap- pening, are a kind of riddles, and as every riddle is to be fol- lowed by its answer, so those kind of circumstances will be fol- lowed by their events, and those events are always the true solution. A considerable space of time nay lapse between, and unless we continue our observations from the one to the other, the harmony of them will pass away unnoticed; but the misfor- tune is, that partly from the pressing necessity of some instant things, and partly from the impatience of our own tempei's, we are frequently in such a hurry to make out the meaning of everything as fast as it happens, that we thereby never truly understand it; and not only start new difficulties to ourselves by so doing, but, as it were, embarrass Providence in her good designs. I have been civil in stating this fault on a large scale, for, as it now stands, it does not appear to be levelled against any par- ticular set of men; but were it to be refined a little further, it might afterwards be applied to the tories with a degree of striking propriety; those men have been remarkable for draw- ing sudden conclusions from single facts. The least apparent mishap on our side, or the least seeming advantage on the part of the enemy, have determined with them the fate of a whole campaign. By this hasty judgment they have converted a re- treat into a defeat; mistook generalship for error ; while every little advantage purposely given the enemy, either to weaken their strength by dividing it, embarrass their councils by mul- tiplying their objects, or to secure a greater post by the sur- render of a less, has been instantly magnified into a conquest. Thus, by quartering ill policy upon ill principles, they have fre- quently promoted the cause they have designed to injure, and THE CRISIS. 79 injured that which they intended to promote. It is probable the campaign may open before this number comes from the press. The enemy have long lain idle, and amused themselves with carrying on the war by proclamations only. While they continue their delay our strength increases, and were they to move to action now, it is a circumstantial proof that they have no reinforcement coming; wherefore, in either case, the com- parative advantage will be ours. Like a wounded, disabled whale, they want only time and room to die in ; and though in the agony of their exit, it may be unsafe to live within the flapping of their tail, yet every hour shortens their date, and lessens their power of mischief. If anything happens while this number is in the press, it will afford me a subject for the last pages of it. At present I am tired of waiting; and as neither the enemy nor the state of politics have yet produced anything new, I am thereby left in the field of general matter, undirected by any striking or particular object. This Crisis, therefore, will be made up rather of variety than novelty, and consist more of things useful than things wonderful. The success of the cause, the union of the people, and the means of supporting and securing both, are points which can- not be too much attended to. He who doubts of the former is a desponding coward, and he who wilfully disturbs the latter is a traitor. Their characters are easily fixed, and under these short descriptions I leave them for the present. One of the greatest degrees of sentimental union which America ever knew, was in denying the right of the British parliament " to bind the colonies in all cases whatsoever." The declaration is, in its form, an almighty one, and is the loftiest stretch of arbitrary power that ever one set of men, or one coun- try claimed over another. Taxation was nothing more than the putting the declared right into practice; and this failing, re- course was had to arms, as a means to establish both the right and the practice, or to answer a worse purpose, which will be mentioned in the course of this number. And in order to repay themselves the expense of an army, and to profit by their own injustice, the colonies were, by another law, declared to be in a state of actual rebellion, and of consequence all property there- in would fall to the conquerors. The colonies, on their part, first denied the right; secondly. they suspended the use of taxable articles, and petitioned against the practice of taxation : and these failing, they, thirdly, 80 THE CKISIS. defended their property by force, as soon as it was forcibly in- vaded, and in answer to the declaration of rebellion and non- protection, published their declaration of independence and right of self -protection. These, in a few words, are the different stages of the quarrel ; and the parts are so intimately and necessarily connected with each other as to admit of no separation. A person, to use a trite phrase, must be a whig or a tory in the lump. His feel- ings, as a man, may be wounded; his charity, as a Christian, may be moved; but his political principles must go through all the cases on one side or the other. He cannot be a whig in this stage, and a tory in that. If he says he is against the united independence of the continent, he is to all intents and purposes against her in all the rest; because this last comprehends the whole. And he may just as well say, that Britain was right in declaring us rebels; right in taxing us; and right in declaring her " right to bind the colonies in all cases whatsoever." It sig- nifies nothing what neutral ground, of his own creating, he may skulk upon for shelter, for the quarrel in no stage of it hath afforded any such ground; and either we or Britain are abso- lutely right or absolutely wrong through the whole. Britain, like a gamester nearly ruined, hath now put all her losses into one bet, and is playing a desperate game for the total. If she wins it, she wins from me my life ; she wins the conti- nent as the forfeited property of rebels; the right of taxing those that are left as reduced subjects;- and the power of bind- ing them slaves; and the single die which determines this un- paralleled event is, whether we support our independence or she overturn it. This is coming to the point at once. Here is the touchstone to try men by. He tJiat is not a supporter of the independent states of America, in the same degree that his re- ligious and political principles would suffer him to support the government of any other country, of which he called himself a subject, is, in the American sense of the word, A TORY; and the instant that he endeavors to bring his tory ism, into practice, he becomes A TRAITOR. The first can only be detected by a general test, and the law hath already provided for the latter. It is unnatural and impolitic to admit men who would root up our independence to have anyshare in our legislation, either as electors or representatives ; because the support of our inde- pendence rests, in a great measure, on the vigor and purity of our public bodies. Would Britain, even in time of peace, much THE CRISIS. 81 less in war, suffer an election to be carried by men who pro- fessed themselves to be not her subjects, or allow such to sit in parliament 1 Certainly not. But there are a certain species of tories with whom consci- ence or principle hath nothing to do, and who are so from avarice only. Some of the first fortunes on the continent, on the part of the whigs, are staked on the issue of our present measures. And shall disaffection only be rewarded with security 1 Can anything be a greater inducement to a miserly man, than the hope of making his mammon safe 1 ? And though the scheme be fraught with every character of folly, yet, so long as he supposes, that by doing nothing materially criminal against America on one part, and by expressing his private dis- approbation against independence, as palliative with the enemy on the other part, he stands in a safe line between both; while, I say, this ground be suffered to remain, craft, and the spirit of avarice, will point it out, and men will not be wanting to fill up this most contemptible of all characters. These men, ashamed to own the sordid cause from whence their disaffection springs, add thereby meanness to meanness, by endeavoring to shelter themselves under the mask of hypo- crisy ; that is, they had rather be thought to be tories from some kind of principle, than tories by having no principles at all. But till such time as they can show some real reason, natural, political, or conscientious, on which their objections to indepen- dence are founded, we are not obliged to give them credit for being tories of the first stamp, but must set them down as tories of the last. In the second number of the Crisis I endeavored to show the impossibility of the enemy's making any conquest of America, that nothing was wanting on our part but patience and perseverance, and that, with these virtues, our success, as far as human speculation could discern, seemed as certain as fate. But as there are many among us, who, influenced by others, have regularly gone back from the principles they once held, in proportion as we have gone forward; and as it is the unfortunate lot of many a good man to live within the neigh- borhood of disaffected ones; I shall, therefore, for the sake of confirming the one and recovering the other, endeavor, in the space of a page or two, to go over some of the leading principles in the support of independence. It is a much pleasanter task to prevent vice tkan to punish it, and, however our tempers 6 82 THE CBISIS may be gratified by resentment, or our national expenses be eased by forfeited estates, harmony and friendship is, neverthe- less, the happiest condition a country can be blest with. The principal arguments in support of independence may be coiaprenended under the four following heads. 1st, The natural right of the continent to independence. 2nd, Her interest in being independent. 3rd, The necessity, and 4th, The moral advantages arising therefrom. 1st, The natural right of the continent to independence, is ,- point which never yet was called in question. It will not e\ on admit of a debate. To deny such a right would be a kind 01 atheism against nature: and the best answer to such an objec- tion would be, " The fool hath said in his heart there is no God.' 2nd, The interest of the continent in being independent is ;i point as clearly right as the former. America, by her own in- ternal industry, and unknown to all the powers of Europe, was, at the beginning of the dispute, arrived at a pitch of greatness, trade and population, beyond which it was the interest of Britain not to suffer her to pass, lest she should grow too powerful to be kept subordinate. She began to view this country with the same uneasy malicious eye, with which a cov- etous guardian would view his ward, whose estate he had been enriching himself by for twenty years, and saw him just arriv- ing at manhood. And America owes no more to Britain for her present maturity, than the ward would to the guardian for being twenty-one years of age. That America hath flourished at the time she was under the government of Britain, is true; but there is every natural reason to believe, that had she been an independent country from the first settlement thereof, un- controlled by any foreign power, free to make her own laws, regulate and encourage her own commerce, she had by this time been of much greater worth than now. The case is simply this : the first settlers in the different colonies were left to shift for themselves, unnoticed and unsupported by any European gov- ernment : but as the tyranny and persecution of the old world daily drove numbers to the new, and as, by the favor of heaven on their industry and perseverance, they grew into importance, so, in a like degree, they became an object of profit to the greedy eves of Europe. It was impossible, in this state of infancy, how- ever thriving and promising, that they could resist the power *' any armed invader that should seek to bring them under his THE CRISIS. 83 authority. In this situation Britain thought it worth her while to claim them, and the continent received and acknowledged the claim er. It was, in reality, of no very great importance who was her master, seeing, that from the force and ambition of the different powers of Europe, she must, till she acquired strength enough to assert her own right, acknowledge some one. As well, perhaps, Britain as another; and it might have been as well to have been under the states of Holland as any. The same hopes of engrossing and profiting by her trade, by not oppressing it too much, would have operated alike with any master, and produced to the colonies the same effects. The clamor of protection, likewise, was all a farce ; because, in order to make that protection necessary, she must first, by her own quarrels, create us enemies. Hard times indeed ! To know whether it be the interest of the continent to be independent, we need only ask this easy, simple question : Is it the interest of a man to be a boy all his life 1 The answer to one will be the answer to both. America hath been one continued scene of legislative contention from the first king's representative to the last; and this was unavoidably founded in the natural opposition of interest between the old country and the new. A governor sent from England, or receiving his authority therefrom, ought never to have been considered in any other light than that of a genteel commissioned spy, whose private business was information, and his public business a kind of civilized oppression. In the first of these characters he was to watch the tempers, sentiments and dispositions of the people, the growth of trade, and the increase of private fortunes; and, in the latter, to suppress all such acts of the assemblies, how- ever beneficial to the people, which did not directly or indirectly throw some increase of power or profit into the hands of those that sent him. America, till now, could never be called a free country, be- cause her legislation depended on the will of a man three thousand miles distant, whose interest was in opposition to ours, and who, by a single " no," could forbid what law he pleased. The freedom of trade, likewise, is, to a trading country, an article of such importance, that the principal source of wealth depends upon it; and it is impossible that any country can flourish, as it otherwise might do, whose commerce is engrossed, cramped and fettered by the laws and mandates of another yet these evils, and more than I can here enumerate, the con- 84 THE CRISIS. tinent has suffered by being under the government of England By an independence we clear the whole at once put an end t(> the business of unanswered petitions and fruitless remonstrances exchange Britain for Europe shake hands with the world live at peace with the world and trade to any market where we can buy and sell. 3rd. The necessity, likewise, of being independent, even be fore it was declared, became so evident and important that the continent ran the risk of being ruined every day that she delayed it. There was reason to believe that Britain would endeavor to make an European matter of it, and, rather than lose the whole, would dismember it, like Poland, and dispose of her several claims to the highest bidder. Genoa, failing in her attempts to reduce Corsica, made a sale of it to the French, and such traffics have been common in the old world. We had at that time no ambassador in any part of Europe, to counteract her negotiations, and by that means she had the range of every foreign court uncontradicted on our part. We even knew nothing of the treaty for the Hessians till it was concluded, and the troops ready to embark. Had we been independent before, we had probably prevented her obtaining them. We had no credit abroad, because of our rebellious dependency. Our ships could claim no protection in foreign courts, because we afforded them no justifiable reason for granting it to us. The calling ourselves subjects, and at the same time fighting against the power which we acknowledged, was a dangerous precedent to all Europe. If the grievances justified the taking up arms, they justified our separation; if they did not justify our separation, neither could they justify our taking up arms. All Europe was interested in reducing us as rebels, and all Europe (or the greatest part at least) is interested in supporting us as inde- pendent states. At home our condition was still worse; our currency had no foundation, and the fall of it would have ruined whig and tory alike. We had no other law than a kind of moderated passion; no other civil power than an honest mob; and no other protection than the temporary attachment of one man to another. Had independence been delayed a few mcnths longer, this continent would have been plunged into irrecover- able confusion; some violent for it, some againsc it, till in the general cabal, the rich would have been ruined, and the poor destroyed. It is to independence which every tory owes the present safety which he lives in; for by that, and that only, we THE CRISIS. 85 emerged from a state of dangerous suspense, and became a regular people. The necessity, likewise, of being independent, had there been no rupture between Britain and America, would, in a little time, have brought one on. The increasing importance of com- merce, the weight and perplexity of legislation, and the en- tangled state of European politics, would daily have shown to the continent the impossibility of continuing subordinate; for, after the coolest reflections on the matter, this must be allowed, that Britain was too jealous of America to govern it justly; too ignorant of it to govern it well ; and too far distant from it to govern it at all. 4th. But what weigh most with all men of serious reflection are, the moral advantages arising from independence: war and desolation have become the trade of the old world ; and America neither could, nor can be under the government of Britain without becoming a sharer of her guilt, and a partner in all the dismal commerce of death. The spirit of duelling, extended on a national scale, is a proper character for European wars. They have seldom any other motive than pride, or any other object than fame. The conquerors and the conquered are generally ruined alike, and the chief difference at last is, that the one marches home with his honors, and the other without them. 'Tis the natural temper of the English to fight for a feather, if they suppose that feather to be an affront; and America, without the right of asking why, must have abetted in every quarrel, and abided by its fate. It is a shocking situa- tion to live in, that one country must be brought into all the wars of another, whether the measure be right or wrong, or whether she will or not; yet this, in the fullest extent, was, and ever would be, the unavoidable consequence of the con- nexion. Surely the Quakers forgot their own principles, when, in their late Testimony, they called this connexion, with these military and miserable appendages hanging to it " the happy constitution." Britain, for centuries past, has been nearly fifty years out of every hundred at war with some power or other. It certainly ought to be a conscientious as well as political consideration with America, not to dip her hands in the bloody work of Europe. Our situation affords us a retreat from their cabals, and the present happy union of the states bids fair for extirpa- ting the future use of arms from one quarter of the world ; yet 86 THE CRISIS. such have -been the irreligious politics of the present leaders of the Quakers, that, for the sake of they scarce know what, they would cut off every hope of such a blessing by tying this con- tinent to Britain, like Hector to the chariot wheel of Achilles, to be dragged through all the miseries of endless European wars. The connexion, viewed from this ground, is distressing to every man who has the feelings of humanity. By having Britain for our master, we became enemies to the greatest part of Europe, and they to us : and the consequence was Avar in- evitable. By being our own masters, independent of any foreign one, we have Europe for our friends, and the prospects of an endless peace among ourselves. Those who were advo- cates for the British government over these colonies, were obliged to limit both their arguments and their ideas to the period of an European peace only : the moment Britain became plunged in war, every supposed convenience to us vanished, and all we could hope for was not to be ruined. Could this be a desirable condition for a young country to be in ? Had the French pursued their fortune immediately after the defeat of Braddock last war, this city and province had then experienced the woful calamities of being a British subject. A scene of the same kind might happen again ; for America, con- sidered as a subject to the crown of Britain, would ever have been the seat of war, and the bone of contention between the two powers. On the whole, if the future expulsion of arms from one quarter of the world would be a desirable object to a peaceable man ; if the freedom of trade to every part of it can engage the attention of a man of business; if the support or fall of millions of currency can affect our interest; if the entire pos- session of estates, by cutting off the lordly claims of Britain over the soil, deserves the regard of landed property ; and if the right of making our own laws, uncontrolled by royal or minis- terial spies or mandates, be worthy our care as freemen ; then are all men interested in the support of independence ; and may he that supports it not, be driven from the blessing, and live unpitied beneath the servile suffering of scandalous subjection ! We have been amused with the tales of ancient wonders ; we have read, and wept over the histories of other nations; ap- plauded, censured, or pitied, as their cases affected us. The fortitude and patience of the sufferers the justness of their cause the weight of their oppressions and oppressors the ob- THE CRISIS. 87 ject to be saved or lost with all the consequences of a defeat or a conquest have, in the hour of sympathy, bewitched our hearts, and chained it to there fate : but where is the power that ever made war upon petitioneers 1 Or where is the war on which a world was staked till now 1 We may not, perhaps, be wise enough to make all the advan- tages we ought of our independance ; bnt they are, nevertheless, marked and presented to us with every character of great and good, and worthy the hand of him who sent them. I look through the present trouble to a time of tranquillity, when we shall have it in our power to set an example of peace to all the world. Were the Quakers really impressed and influenced by the quiet principles they profess to hold, they would, however they might dissaprove the means, be the first of all men to ap- prove of independence, because, by separating ourselves from the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, it affords an opportunity never given to man before, of carrying there favorite principle of peace into general practice, by establishing governments that shall hereafter exist without wars. O ! ye fallen, cringing, priest and Pemberton-ridden people ! What more can we say of ye then that a religious Quaker is a valuable character, and a political Quaker a real Jesuit. Having thus gone over some of the principal points in sup- port of independence, I must now request the reader to return back with me to the period when it first began to be a public doctrine, and to examine the progress it has made among the various classes of men. The era I mean to begin at, is the breaking out of hostilities, April 19th, 1775. Until this event happened, the continent seemed to view the dispute as a kind of law-suit for a matter of right, litigating between the old coun- try and the new; and she felt the same kind and degree of hor- ror, as if she had seen an oppressive plaintiff, at the head of a hand of ruffians, enter the court, while the cause was before it, and put the judge, the jury, the defendant and his counsel, to the sword. Perhaps a more heart-felt convulsion never reached the country with the same degree of power and rapidity before, and never may again. Pity for the sufferers, mixed with in- dignation at the violence, and heightened with apprehensions of undergoing the same fate, made the affair of Lexington the affair of the continent. Every part of it felt the shock, and all vibrated together. A general promotion of sentiment took place: those who had drank deeply into whiggish principles, 88 THE CRISIS. that is, the right and necessity not only of opposing, but wholly setting aside the power of the crown as soon as it became practically dangerous (for in theory it was always so) stepped into the first stage of independence; while another class of whigs, equally sound in principle, but not so sanguine in enter- prise, attached themselves the stronger to the cause, and fell close in with the rear of the former ; their partition was a mere point. Numbers of the moderate men, whose chief fault, at that time, arose from their entertaining a better opinion of Bri- tain then she deserved, convinced now of there mistake, give her up, and publicly declared themselves good whigs. While the tories, seeing it was no longer a laughing matter, either sank into silence obscurity, or contented themselves with com- ing forth and abusing General Gage: not a single advocate ap- peared to justify the action of that day; it seemed to appear to every one with the same magnitude, struck every one with the same force, and created in every one the same abhorrence. From this period we may date the growth of independence, If the many circumstances which happened at this memor- able time, be taken in one view, and compared with each other, they will justify a conclusion which seems not to have been at- tended to: I mean a fixed design in the king and ministry of driving America into arms, in order that they might be fur- nished with the pretence for seizing the whole continent, as the immediate property of the crown. A noble plunder for hungry courtiers ! It ought to be remembered that the first petition from the congress was at this time unanswered on the part of the British king. That the motion called Lord North's motion, of the 20th February, 1775, arrived in America the latter end of March. This motion was to be laid by the several governors then in being, before the assembly of each province; and the first assembly before which it was laid was the assembly of Pennsyl- vania, in May following. This being a just state of the case, I then ask, why were hostilities commenced between the time of passing the resolve in the house of commons, of the 20th of February, and the time of the assemblies meeting to deliberate upon it ? Degrading and infamous as that motion was, there is, nevertheless, reason to believe that the king and his adher- ents were afraid the colonies would agree to it, and lest they should, took effectual care they should not, by provoking them with hostilities in the interim. They had not the least doubt THE CRISIS. 89 at that time of conquering America at one blow; and what they expected to get by a conquest being infinitely greater than any thing they could hope to get either by taxation or accommoda- tion, they seemed determined to prevent even the possibility of hearing each other, lest America should disappoint their greedy hopes of the whole, by listening even to their own terms. On the one hand they refused to hear the petition of the conti- nent, and on the other hand took effectual care the continent should not hear them. That the motion of the 20th of February and the orders for commencing hostilities were both concerted by the same person or persons, and not the latter by General Gage, as was falsely imagined at first, is evident from an extract of a letter of his to the administration, read among other papers in the house of commons; in which he informs his masters, " That though their idea of his disarming certain counties was a right one, yet it re- quired him to be master of the country, in order to enable him to execute it." This was prior to the commencement of hostilities, and consequently before the motion of the 20th February could be deliberated on by the several assemblies. Perhaps it may be asked, why was the motion passed, if there was at the same time a plan to aggravate the Americans not to listen to it? Lord North assigned one reason himself, which was a hope of dividing them. This was publicly tempting them to reject it; that if, in case the injury of arms should fail in provoking them sufficiently, the insult of such a declaration might fill it up. But by passing the motion and getting it afterwards rejected in America, it enabled them, in their wretched idea of politics, among other things, to hold up the colonies to foreign powers, with every possible mark of disobe- dience and rebellion. They had applied to those powers not to supply the continent with arms, ammunition, aid so dearly for in numbers, that their victories have in the 106 THE CRISIS. end amounted to defeats. We have always been masters at the last push, and always shall be while we do our duty. Howe has been once on the banks of the Delaware, and from thence driven back with loss and disgrace ; and why not be again driven from the Schuylkill? His condition and ours are very different. He has every body to fight, we have only his one army to cope with, and which wastes away at every engagement : we cannot only reinforce, but can redouble our numbers; he is cut off from all supplies, and must sooner or later inevitably fall into our hands. Shall a band of ten or twelve thousand robbers, who are this day fifteen hundred or two thousand men less in strength than they were yesterday, conquer America, or subdue even a single state? The thing cannot be, unless we sit down and suffer them to do it. Another such a brush, notwithstanding we lost the ground, would, by still reducing the enemy, put them in a con- dition to be afterwards totally defeated. Could our whole army have come up to the attack at one time, the consequences had probably been otherwise; but our having different parts of the Brandy wine creek to guard, and the uncertainty which road to Philadelphia the enemy would attempt to take, naturally afforded them an opportunity of passing with their main body at a place where only a part of of ours could be posted ; for it must strike every thinking man with conviction, that it requires a much greater force to oppose an enemy in several places, than is sufficient to defeat him in any one place. Men who are sincere in defending their freedom, will always feel concern at every circumstance which seems to make against them ; it is the natural and honest consequence of all affection- ate attachments, and the want of it is a vice. But the dejec- tion lasts only for a moment; they soon rise out of it with addi- tional vigor; the glow of hope, courage and fortitude, will, in a little time, supply the place of every inferior passion, and kindle the whole heart into heroism. There is a mystery in the countenance of some causes, which we have not always present judgment enough to explain. It is distressing to see an enemy advancing into a country, but it is the only place in which we can beat them, and in which we have always beaten them, whenever they made the attempt. The nearer any disease approaches to a crisis, the nearer it is to a cure. Danger and deliverance make their advances together, THE CitiSIS. 107 and it is only the last push, in which one or the other takes the lead. There are many men who will do their duty when it is not wanted ; but a genuine public spirit always appears most when there is most occasion for it, Thank God ! our army, though fatigued, is yet entire. The attack made by us yesterday was under many disadvantages, naturally arising from the uncer- tainty of knowing which route the enemy would take; and, from that circumstance, the whole of our force could not be brought up together time enough to engage all at once. Our strength is yet reserved; and it is evident that Howe does not think himself a gainer by the affair, otherwise he would this morning have moved down and attacked general Washington. Gentlemen of the city and country, it is in your power, by a spirited improvement of the present circumstance, to turn it to a real advantage. Howe is now weaker than before, and every shot will continue to reduce him. You are more immediately interested than any other part of the continent; your all is at stake; it is not so with the general cause; you are devoted by the enemy to plunder and destruction : it is the encouragement which Howe, the chief of plunderers, has promised his army. Thus circumstanced, you may save yourselves by a manly resistance, and you can have no hope in any other conduct. I never yet knew our brave general, or any part of the army, officers or men, out of heart, and I have seen them in circumstances a thousand times more trying than the present. It is only those that are not in action, that feel languor and heaviness, and the best way to rub it off is to turn out, and make sure work of it. Our army must undoubtedly feel fatigue, and want a rein- forcement, of rest, though not of valor. Our own interest and happiness call upon us to give them every support in our power, and make the burden of the day, on which the safety of this city depends, as light as possible. Remember, gentlemen, that we have forces both to the northward and southward of Phila- delphia, and if the enemy be but stopped till those can arrive, this city will be saved, and the enemy finally routed. You have too much at stake to hesitate. You ought not to think an hour upon the matter, but to spring to action at once. Other states have been invaded, have likewise driven off the invaders. Now our time and turn is come, and perhaps the finishing stroke is reserved for us. When we look back on the 108 THE CRISIS. dangers we have been saved from, and reflect on the success we have been blessed with, it would be sinful either to be idle or to despair. I close this paper with a short address to General Howe. You, sir, are only lingering out the period that shall bring with it your defeat. You have yet scarce begun upon the war, and the further you enter, the faster will your troubles thicken. What you now enjoy is only a respite from ruin; an invitation to destruction ; something that will lead on to our deliverance at your expense. We know the cause which we are engaged in, and though a passionate fondness for it may make us grieve at every injury which threatens it, yet, when the moment of con- cern is over, the determination to duty returns. We are not moved by the gloomy smile of a worthless king, but by the ardent glow of generous patriotism. We fight not to enslave, but to set a country free, and to make room upon the earth for nonest men to live in. In such a case we are sure that we are right ; and we leave to you the despairing reflection of being the tool of a miserable tyrant. COMMON SENSE. PHILADELPHIA, Sept. IK, 1777. NUMBER V. TO GEN. SIR WILLIAM HOWE. To argue with a man who has renounced the use and au thority of reason, and whose philosophy consists in hoi din* humanity in contempt is like administering medicine to the dead, or endeavoring to convert an atheist by scripture. Enjoy, sir, your insensibility of feeling and reflecting. It is the prerogative of animals. And no man will envy you those honors, in which a savage only can be your rival and a bear your master. As the generosity of this country rewarded your brother's services last war, with an elegant monument in Westminster Abbey, it is consistent that she should bestow some mark of distinction upon you. You certainly deserve her notice, and a conspicuous place in the catalogue of extraordinary persons. Yet it would be a pity to pass you from the world in state, and consign you to magnificent oblivion among the tombs, without telling the future beholder why Judas in as .n^"* THE CRISIS. 109 known as John, yet history ascribes their fame to very different actions. Sir William hath undoubtedly merited a monument; but of what kind, or with what inscription, where placed or how em- bellished, is a question that would puzzle all the heralds of St. James's in the profoundest mood of historical deliberation. We are at no loss, sir, to ascertain your real character, but some- what perplexed how to perpetuate its identity, and preserve it uninjured from the transformations of time or mistake. A statuary may give a false expression to your bust, or decorate it with some equivocal emblems, by which you may happen to steal into reputation and impose upon the hereafter tradition- ary world. Ill nature or ridicule may conspire, or a variety of accidents combine to lessen, enlarge, or change Sir William's fame; and no doubt but he who has taken so much pains to be singular in his conduct, would choose to be just as singular in his exit, his monument and his epitaph. The usual honors of the dead, to be sure, are not sufficiently 'sublime to escort a character like you to the republic of dust and ashes; for however men may differ in their ideas of grand- eur or of government here, the grave is nevertheless a perfect republic. Death is not the monarch of the dead, but of the dying. The moment he obtains a conquest he loses a subject, and, like the foolish king you serve, will, in the end, war him- self out of all his dominions. As a proper preliminary towards the arrangement of your funeral honors, we readily admit of your new rank of knight- hood. The title is perfectly in character, and is your own, more by merit than creation. There are knights of various orders, from the knight of the windmill to the knight of the post. The former is your pattern for exploits, and the latter will assist you in settling your accounts. No honorary title could be more happily applied ! The ingenuity is sublime ! And your royal master hath discovered more genius in fitting you there- with, than in generating the most finished figure for a button, or discarding on the properties of a button mould. But how, sir, shall we dispose of you ? The invention of a statuary is exhausted, and Sir William is yet unprovided with a monument. America is anxious to bestow her funeral favora upon you, and wishes to do it in a manner that shall distinguish you from all the deceased heroes of the last war. The Egyp- tian method of embalming is not known to the present age, and THE CRISIS. heirogylvphical pageantry hath outlived the science of decy- phering it. Some other method, therefore, must be thought of to immortalize the new knight of the windmill and post. Sir William, thanks to his stars, is not oppressed with very delicate ideas. He has no ambition of bring wrapped up and handed about in myrrh, aloes and cassia. Less expensive odors will suffice; and it fortunately happens that the simple genius of America hath discovered the art of preserving gc'd'es, and em- bellishing them too, with much greater frugality than the ancients. In balmage, sir, of humble tar, you will be as secure as Pharaoh, and in a hieroglyphic of feathers, rival in finery all the mummies of Egypt. As you have already made your exit from the moral world, and by numberless acts both of passionate and deliberate injus- tice, engraved an "here lyeth" on your deceased honor, it must be mere affectation in you to pretend concern at the humors or opinions of mankind respecting you. What remains of you may expire at any time. The sooner the better. For he who survives his reputation, lives out of despite of himself, like a man listening to his own reproach. Thus entombed and ornamented, I leave you to the inspection of the curious, and return to the history of your yet surviving actions. The character of Sir William hath undergone some extraordinary revolutions since his arrival in America. It is now fixed and known ; and we have nothing to hope from your candor, or to fear from your capacity. Indolence and inability have too large a share in your composition, ever to suffer you to be anything more than the hero of little villainies and un- finished adventures. That, which to some persons' appeared moderation in you at first, was not produced by any real virtue of your own, but by a contrast of passions, dividing and holding you in perpetual irresolution. One vice will frequently expel another, without the least merit in the man, as powers in con- trary directions reduce each other to rest. It became you to have supported a dignified solemnity of character; to have shown a superior liberality of soul; to have won respect by an obstinate perseverance in maintaining order, and to have exhibited on all occasions such an unchangeable graciousness of conduct, that while we beheld in you the reso- lution of an enemy, we might admire in you the sincerity of a man. You came to America under the high sounding titles of commander and commissioner; not only to suppress what you THE CRISIS. call rebellion, by arms, but to shame it out of countenance, by the excellence of your example. Instead of which, you have been the patron of low and vulgar frauds, the encourager of Indian cruelties; and have imported a cargo of vices blacker than those which you pretend to suppress. Mankind are not universally agreed in their determination of right and wrong; but there are certain actions which the consent of all nations and individuals hath branded with the unchangeable name of meanness. In the list of human vices we find some of such a refined constitution, they cannot be car- ried into practice without seducing some virtue to their assist- ance: but meanness hath neither alliance nor apology. It is generated in the dust and sweepings of other vices, and is of such a hateful figure that all the rest conspire to disown it. Sir William, the commissioner of George the third, hath at last vouchsafed to give it rank and pedigree. He has placed the fugitive at the council board, and dubbed it companion of the order of knighthood. The particular act of meanness which I allude to in this description, is forgery. You, sir, have abetted and patronized the forging and uttering counterfeit continental bills. In the same New-York newspapers in which your own proclamation under your master's authority was published, offering, or pre- tending to offer, pardon and protection to these states, there were repeated advertisements of counterfeit money for sale, and persons who have come officially from you, and under the sanction of your flag, have been taken up in attempting to put them off, A conduct so basely mean in a public character is without precedent or pretence. Every nation on earth, whether friends or enemies, will unite in despising you. 'Tis an incendiary war upon society, which nothing can excuse or palliate. An improvement upon beggarly villainy and shows an inbred wretchedness of heart made up between the venomous malignity of a serpent and a spiteful imbecility of an inferior reptile. The laws of any civilized country would condemn you to the gibbet without regard to your rank or title, because it is an action foreign to the usage and custom of war; and should you fall into our hands, which pray God you may, it will be a doubtful matter whether we are to consider you as a military prisoner or a prisoner for felony. Ttesides, it is exceedingly unwise and impolitic in you, or any 112 THE CRISIS. other person in the English service, to promote or even en- courage, or wink at the crime of forgery, in any case whatever. Because, as the riches of England, as a nation, are chiefly in paper, and the far greater part of trade among individuals is carried on by the same medium, that is, by notes and drafts on one another, they, therefore, of all people in the world, ought to endeavor to keep forgery out of sight, and, if possible, not to revive the idea of it. It is dangerous to make men familiar with a crime which they may afterwards practise to much greater advantage against those who first taught them. Several officers in the English army have made their exit at the gallows for forgery on their agents ; for we all know, who know any- thing of England, that there is not a more necessitous body of men, taking them generally, than what the English officers are. They contrive to make a show at the expense of the tailors, and appear clean at the charge of the washer-woman. England hath, at this time, nearly two hundred million pounds sterling of public money in paper, for which she hath no real property: besides a large circulation of bank notes, bank post bills, and promissory notes and drafts of private bankers, merchants and tradesmen. She hath the greatest quantity of paper currency and the least quantity of gold and silver of any nation in Europe; the real specie which is about sixteen millions sterling, serves only as change in large sums, which are always made in paper, or for payment in small ones. Thus circumstanced, the nation is put to its wit's end, and obliged to be severe almost to criminality, to prevent the prac- tice and growth of forgery. Scarcely a session passes at the Old Bailey, or an execution at Tyburn, but witnesseth this truth, yet you, sir, regardless of the policy which her necessity obliges her to adopt, have made your whole army intimate with the crime. And as all armies, at the conclusion of a war, are too apt to carry into practice the vices of the campaign, it will probably happen, that England will hereafter abound in forgeries, to which art the practictioners were first initiated under your authority in America. You, sir, have the honor of adding a new vice to the military catalogue; and the reason, perhaps, why the invention was reserved for you, is, because no general before was mean enough ever to think of it. That a man, whose soul is absorbed in the low traffic of vulgar vice, is incapable of moving in any superior region, is clearly shown in you by the event of every campaign. Your THE CRISIS. 113 military exploits have been without plan, object, or decision. Can it be possible that you or your employers suppose that the possession of Philadelphia will be any ways equal to the expense or expectation of the nation which supports you 1 ? What ad- vantages does England derive from any achievement of yours ? To her it is perfectly indifferent what place you are in, so long as the business of conquest is unperformed and the charge of maintaining you remains the same. If the principal events of the three campaigns be attended to, the balance will appear against you at the close of each ; but the last, in point of importance to us, has exceeded the former two. It is pleasant to look back on dangers past, and equally as pleasant to meditate on present ones when the way out begins to appear. That period is now arrived, and the long doubtful winter of war is changing to the sweeter prospects of victory and joy. At the close of the campaign, in 1775, you were obliged to retreat from Boston. In the summer of 1776, you appeared with a numerous fleet and army in the harbor of New York. By what miracle the continent was preserved in that season of danger is a subject of admiration ! If instead of wasting your time against Long Island, you had run up the North river, and landed anywhere above New York, the con- sequence must have been, that either you would have compelled General Washington to fight you with very unequal numbers, or he must suddenly have evacuated the city with the loss of nearly all the stores of his army, or have surrendered for want of provisions; the situation of the place naturally producing one or the other of these events. The prepartions made to defend New York were, nevertheless, wise and military; because your forces were then at sea, their numbers uncertain; storms, sickness, or a variety of accidents might have disabled their coming, or so diminished them on their passage, that those which survived would have been in- capable of opening the campaign with any prospect of success; in which case the defence would have been sufficient and the place preserved: for cities that have been raised from nothing with an infinitude of labor and expense, are not to be thrown away on the bare probability of their being taken. On these grounds the preparations made to maintain New York were as judicious as the retreat afterwards. While you, in the interim, let slip the very opportunity which seemed to put conquest in your power. 114 THE CRISIS. Through the whole of the campaign you had nearly double the forces which General Washington immediately commanded. The principal plan at that time, on our part, was to wear away the season with as little loss as possible, and to raise the army for the next year. Long Island, New York, forts Washington and Lee were not defended after your superior force was known, under any expectation of their being finally maintained, but as a range of outworks, in the attacking of which your time might be wasted, your numbers reduced, and your vanity amused by possessing them on our -retreat. It was interidebligation to God or man. What sort of men or Christians must you suppose the Americans to be, who, after seeing their most humble petitions insultingly rejected; the most grievous laws passed to distress them in every quarter; and undeclared war let loose upon them, and Indians and negroes invited to the slaughter; who, after seeing their kinsmen murdered, their fellow citizens starved to death iu prisons, and their houses and property de- stroyed and burned; who, after the most serious appeals to heaven; the most solemn abjuration by oath of all government connected with you, and the most heart-felt pledges and p^o- testations of faith to each other; and who, after soliciting the friendship, and entering into alliances with other nations, should at last break through all these obligations, civil and divine, by Complying with your horrid and infernal proposal ? Ought we ever after to be considered as a part of the human race ? Or mght we not rather to be blotted from the society of mankind, .aid become a spectacle of misery to the world 1 But there is something in corruption, which, like a jaundiced eye, transfers the color of itself to the object it looks upon, and sees every thing stained and impure; for unless you were capable of such conduct yourselves, you would never have supposed such a character in us. The offer fixes your infamy. It exhibits you as a nation without faith ; with whom oaths and treaties are considered as trifles, and the breaking of them as the breaking of a bubble. Regard to decency, or to rank, might have taugh' THE CRISIS. 137 you better; or pride inspired you, though virtue could not. There is not left a step in the degradation of character to which you can now descend; you have put your foot on the ground floor, and the key of the dungeon is turned upon you. That the invitation may want nothing of being a complete monster, you have though proper to finish it with an assertion which has no foundation, either in fact or philosophy ; and as Mr. Ferguson, your secretary , is a man of letters, and has made civil society his study, and published a treatise on that subject, I address this part to him. In the close of the paragraph which I last quoted, France is styled the " natural enemy " of England, and by way of lugging us into some strange idea, she is styled " the late mutual and natural enemy" of both countries. I deny that she ever was a natural enemy of either : and that there does not exist in nature such a principle. The expression is an un- meaning barbarism, and wholly unphilosophical, when applied to beings of the same species, let their station in the creation be what it may. "We have a perfect idea of a natural enemy when we think of the devil, because the enmity is perpetual, unalterable, and unabateable. It Admits neither of peace, truce, or treaty ; consequently the warfare is eternal, and there- fore it is natural. But man with man cannot arrange in the same opposition. Their quarrels are accidental and equivocally created. They become friends or enemies as the change of temper, or the cast of interest inclines them. The Creator of man did not constitute them the natural enemy of each other. He has not made any one order of beings so. Even wolves may quarrel, still they herd together. If any two nations are so, then must all nations be so, otherwise it is not nature but custom, and the offence frequently originates with the accuser. England is as truly the natural enemy of France, as France is of England, and perhaps more so. Separated from the rest of Europe, she has contracted an unsocial habit of manners, and imagines in others the jealousy she creates in herself. Never long satisfied with peace, she supposes the discontent universal, and buoyed up with her own importance, conceives herself to be the object pointed at. The expression has been often used, and always with a fraudulent design ; for when the idea of a natural enemy is conceived, it prevents all other in- quiries, and the real cause of the quarrel is hidden in the universality of the conceit. Men start at the notion of a 138 THE CRISIS. natural enemy, and ask no other question. The cry obtains credit like the alarm of a mad dog, and is one of those kind of tricks, which, by operating on the common passions, secures their interest through their folly. But we, sir, are not to be thus imposed upon. We live in a large world, and have extended our ideas beyond the limits and prejudices of an island. We hold out the right hand of friendship to all the universe, and we conceive that there is a sociality in the manners of France, which is much better dis- posed to peace and negociation than that of England, and until the latter becomes more civilized, she cannot expect to live long at peace with any power. Her common language is vul- gar and offensive, and children with their milk suck in the rudiments of insult " The arm of Britain ! The mighty arm of Britain ! Britain that shakes the earth to its centre and its poles ! The scourge of France ! The terror of the world ! That governs with a nod, and pours down vengeance like a God." This language neither makes a nation great or little ; but it shows a savageness of manners, and has a tendency to keep national animosity alive. The entertainments of the stage are calculated to tb game end, and almost every public exhibition is tinctured with insult. Yet England is always in dread of France. Terrified at the apprehension of an invasion. Suspicious of being outwitted in a treaty, and privately cring- ing though she is publicly offending. Let her, therefore, reform her manners and do justice, and she will find the idea of a natural enemy, to be only a phantom of her own imagination. Little did I think, at this period of the war, to see a procla mation which could promise you no other useful purpose what- ever, and tend only to expose you. One would think that you were just awakened from a four years' dream, and knew no- thing of what had passed in the interval. Is this a time to be offering pardons, or renewing the long forgotten subjects of charters and taxation? Is it worth your while, after every force has failed you, to retreat under the shelter of argument and persuasion 1 Or can you think that we, with nearly half your army prisoners, and in alliance with France, are to be begged or threatened into submission by a piece of paper ? But as commissioners at a hundred pounds sterling a week each, you conceive yourselves bound to do something, and the genius of ill fortune told you, that you must write. For my own part, I have not put pen to paper these several THE CRISIS. 139 months. Convinced of our superiority by the issue of every campaign, I was inclined to hope, that that which all the rest of the world now see, would become visible to you, and there- fore felt unwilling to ruffle your temper by fretting you with repetitions and discoveries. There have been intervals of hesi- tation in your conduct, from which it seemed a pity to disturb you, and a charity to leave you to yourselves. You have often stopped, as if you intended to think, but your thoughts have ever been too early or too late. There was a time when Britain disdained to answer, or even hear a petition from America. But that time is passed, and she in her turn is petitioning our acceptance. We now stand on higher ground, and offer her peace; and the time will come when she perhaps in vain, will ask it from us. The latter case is as probable as the former ever was. She cannot refuse to acknowledge our independence with greater obstinacy than she before refused to repeal her laws; and if America alone could bring her to the one, united with France she will reduce her to the other. There is something in obstinacy which differs fiom every other passion; whenever it fails it never recovers, but either breaks like iron, or crumbles sulkily away like a frac- tured arch. Most other passions have their periods of fatigue and rest: their sufferings and their cure; but obstinacy has no resource, and the first wound is mortai. You have already be- gun to give it up, and you will, from the natural construction of the vice, find youselves both obliged and inclined to do so. If you look back you see nothing but loss and disgrace. If you look forward the same scene continues, and the close is an impenetrable gloom. You may plan and execute little mischiefs, but are they worth the expense they cost you, or will such par- tial evils have any effect on the general cause 1 Your expedition to Egg- Harbor, will be felt at a distance like an attack on a hen-roost, and expose you in Europe with a sort of childish phrenzy. Is it worth while to keep an army to protect you in writing proclamations, or to get once a year into winter quar- ters ? Possessing yourselves of towns is not conquest, but con- venience, and in which you will one day or other be trepanned Your retreat from Philadelphia was only a timely escape, and your next expedition may be less fortunate. It would puzzle all the politicians in the universe to conceive what you stay for, or why you should have stayed so long. You are prosecuting a war in which you confess you have neither object 140 THE CRISIS. nor hope, and that conquest, could it be effected, would not re- pay the charges. In the meanwhile the rest of your affairs are running to ruin, and a European war kindling against you. In such a situation, there is neither doubt or difficulty; the first rudiments of reason will determine the choice, .or if peace can be procured with more advantages than even a conquest can be obtained, he must be an idiot indeed that hesitates. But you are probably buoyed up by a set of wretched mor- tals, who, having deceived themselves, are cringing, with the duplicity of a spaniel, for a little temporary bread. These men will tell you just what you please. It is their interest to amuse, in order to lengthen out their protection. They study to keep you amongst them for that ver} "purpose; and in proportion as you disregard their advice, and grow callous to their complaints, they will stretch into improbability, and season their flattery the higher. Characters like these are to b found in every coun- try, and every country will despise them. COMMON SENSE. PHILADELPHIA, Oct. 90th, 1778. NUMBER YII. TO THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. THERE are stages in the business of serious life in which to amuse is cruel, but to deceive is to destroy ; and it is of little consequence, in the conclusion, whether men deceive themselves or submit, by a kind of mutual consent, to the impositions of each other. That England has long been under the influence of delusion or mistake, needs no other proof than the unex- pected and wretched situation that she is now involved in; and so powerful has been the influence, that no provision was ever made or thought of against the misfortune, because the possi- bility of its happening was never conceived. The general and successful resistance of America, the con- quest of Burgoyne, and a war in France, were treated in parliament as the dreams of a discontented opposition, or a distempered imagination. They were beheld as objects un- worthy of a serious thought, and the bare intimation of them afforded the ministry a triumph of laughter. Short triumph indeed ! For everything which has been predicted has hap- THE CRISIS. 141 pened, and all that was promised has failed. A long series of politics so remarkably distinguished by a succession of mis- fortunes, without one alleviating turn, must certainly have something in it systematically wrong. It is sufficient to awaken the most credulous into suspicion, and the most obsti- nate into thought. Either the means in your power are insufficient, or the measures ill-planned ; either the execution has been bad, or the thing attempted impracticable; or, to speak more emphatically, either you are not able or heaven is not willing. For, why is it that you have not conquered us ? Who, or what has prevented you 1 You have had every oppor- tunity that you could desire, and succeeded to your utmost wish in every preparatory means. Your fleets and armies have arrived in America without an accident. No uncommon mis- fortune have intervened. No foreign nation hath interfered until the time which you had allotted for victory was past. The opposition, either in or out of parliament, neither discon- certed your measures, retarded or diminished your force. They only foretold your fate. Every ministerial scheme was carried with as high a hand as if the whole nation had been unanimous. Everything wanted was asked for, and every- thing asked for was granted. A greater force was not within the compass of your abilities to send, and the time you sent it was of all others the most favorable. You were then at rest with the whole world beside. You had the range of every court in Europe uncontradicted by us. You amused us with a tale of the commissioners of peace, and under that disguise collected a numerous army and came almost unexpectedly upon us. The force was much greater than we looked for: and that which we had to oppose it with, was unequal in numbers, badly armed, and poorly disciplined; beside which, it was embodied only for a short time, and ex- pired within a few months after your arrival We had govern- ments to form; measures to concert; an army to train, and every necessary article to import or to create. Our non-impor- tation scheme had exhausted our stores, and your command by sea intercepted our supplies. We were a people unknown, and unconnected with the political world, and strangers to the dis- position of foreign powers. Could you possibly wish for a more favorable conjunction of circumstances? Yet all these have happened and passed away, and, as it were, left you with a laugh. They are likewise events of such an original nativity 142 THE CRISIS. as can never happen again, unless a new world should arise from the ocean. If anything can be a lesson to presumption, surely the circumstances of this war will have their effect. Had Britain been defeated by any European power, her pride would have drawn consolation from the importance of her conquerors; but in the present case, she is excelled by those that she affected to despise, and her own opinions retorting upon herself, become an aggravation of her disgrace. Misfortune and experience are lost upon mankind, when they produce neither reflection nor reformation. Evils, like poisons, have their uses, and there are diseases which no other remedy can reach. It has been the crime and folly of England to suppose herself invincible, and that, without acknowledging or perceiving that a full third of her strength was drawn from the country she is now at war with. The arm of Britain has been spoken of as the arm of the Almighty, and she has lived of late as if she thought the whole world created for her diversion. Her politics, instead of civilizing, has tended to brutalize mankind, and under the vain, unmeaning title of " Defender of the Faith," she has made war like an Indian against the religion of humanity. Her cruelties in the East Indies wil. never be for- gotten; and it is somewhat remarkable that the produce of that ruined country, transported to America, should there kindle up a war to punish the destroyer. The chain is con- tinued, though with a mysterious kind of uniformity both in the crime and the punishment. The latter runs parallel with the former, and time and fate will give it a perfect illustration. When information is withheld, ignorance becomes a reason- able excuse; and one would charitably hope that the people of England do not encourage cruelty from choice but from mis- take. Their recluse situation, surrounded by the sea, preserves them from the calamities of war, and keeps them in the dark as to the conduct of their own armies. They see not, therefore they feel not. They teli the tale that is told them and believe it, and accustomed to no other news than their own, they re- ceive it, stripped of its horrors and prepared for the palate of the nation, through the channel of the "London Gazette.'* They are made to believe that their generals and armies differ from those of other nations, and have nothing of rudeness or barbarity in them. They suppose them what they wish them to be. They feel a disgrace in thinking otherwise, and naturally THE CRISIS. 143 encourage the belief from a partiality to themselves. There was a time when I felt the same prejudices, and reasoned from the same errors; but experience, sad and painful experience, has taught me better. What the conduct of former armies was, I know not, but what the conduct of the present is, I well know. It is lo\v, cruel, indolent and profligate; and had the people of America no other cause for separation than what the army has occasioned, that alone is cause sufficient. The field of politics in England is far more extensive than that of news. Men have a right to reason for themselves, and though they cannot contradict the intelligence in the " London Gazette," they may frame upon it what sentiments they please. But the misfortune is, that a general ignorance has prevailed over the whole nation respecting America. The ministry and minority have both been wrong. The former was always so, the latter only lately so. Politics, to be executively right, must have a unity of means and time, and a defect in either over- throws the whole. The ministry rejected the plans of the min- ority while they were practicable, and joined in them when they became impracticable. From wrong measures they got into wrong time, and have now completed the circle of absurdity by closing it upon themselves. I happened to come to America a few months before the breaking out of hostilities. I found the disposition of the people such, that they might have been led by a thread and governed by a reed. Their suspicion was quick and penetrat- ing, but their attachment to Britain was obstinate, and it was at that time a kind of treason to speak against it. They dis- liked the ministry, but they esteemed the nation. Their idea of grievance operated without resentment, and their single object was reconciliation. Bad as I believe the ministry to be, I never conceived them capable of a measure so rash and wicked as the commencing of hostilities; much less did I imagine the nation would encourage it. I viewed the dispute as a kind of lawsuit, in which I supposed the parties would find a way either to decide or settle it. I had no thoughts of independence or of arms. The world could not then have persuaded me that 1 should be either a soldier or an author. If I had any talents for either, they were buried in me, and might ever have con- tinued so, had not the necessity of the times dragged and driven them into action. I had formed my plan of life, and conceiv- ing myself happy, wished everybody else so. But when the 144 THE CRISIS. country, into which I had just set my foot, was set on fire about my ears, it was time to stir. It was time for every man to stir. Those who had been long settled had something to defend; those who had just come had something to pursue; and the call and the concern was equal and universal. For in a country where all men were once adventurers, the difference of a few years in their arrival could make none in their rights. The breaking out of hostilities opened a new suspicion in the politics of America, which, though at that time very rare, has since been proved to be very right. What I allude to is, " a secret and fixed determination in the British cabinet to annex America to the crown of England as a conquered country." If this be taken as the object, then the whole line of conduct pursued by the ministry, though rash in its origin and ruinous in its consequences, is nevertheless uniform and consistent in its parts. It applies to every case, and resolves every difficulty. But if taxation, or anything else, be taken in its room, there is no proportion between the object and the charge. Nothing but the whole soil and property of the country can be placed as a possible equivalent against the millions which the ministry ex- pended. No taxes raised in America could possibly repay it. A revenue of two millions sterling a year would not discharge the sum and interest accumulated thereon, in twenty years. Reconciliation never appears to have been the wish or the object of the administration, they looked on conquest as certain and infallible, and, under that persuasion, sought to drive the Americans into what they might style a general rebellion, and then crushing them with arms in their hands, reap the rich har- vest of a general confiscation, and silence them for ever. The dependants at court were too numerous to be provided for in England. The market for plunder in the East-Indies was over ; and the profligacy of government required that a new mine should be opened, and that mine could be no other than America, conquered and forfeited. They had no where else to go. Every other channel was drained; and extravagance, with the thirst of a drunkard, was gaping for supplies. If the ministry deny this to have been their plan, it becomes them to explain what was their plan. For either they have abused us in coveting property they never labored for, or they have abused you in expending an amazing sum upon an incom- petent object. Taxation, as I mentioned before, could never be worth the charge of obtaining it by arms; and any kind of for- THE CRISIS. 145 mal obedience which America could have made, would have weighed with the lightness of a laugh against such a load of expense. It is therefore most probable that the ministry will at last justify their policy by their dishonesty, and openly de- clare that their original design was conquest; and in this case, it well becomes the people of England to consider how far the nation would have been benefited by the success. In a general view, there are few conquests which repay the charge of making them, and mankind are pretty well convinced that it can never be worth their while to go to war for profit's sake. If they are made war upon, their country invaded, or their existence at stake, it is their duty to defend and preserve themselves, but in every other light, and from every other cause, is war inglorious and detestable. But to return to the case in question When conquests are made of foreign countries, it is supposed that the commerce and dominion of the country which made them are extended. But this could neither be the object nor the consequence of the present war. You enjoyed the whole commerce before. It could receive no possible addition by a conquest, but on the contrary, must diminish as the inhabitants were reduced in numbers and wealth. You had the same do- minion over the country which you used to have, and had no complaint to make against her for breach of any part of the contract between you or her, or contending against any estab- lished custom, commercial, political or territorial. The country and commerce were both your own when you began to conquer, in the same manner and form as they had been your own an hundred years before. Nations have sometimes been induced to make conquests for the sake of reducing the power of their enemies, or bringing it to a balance with their own. But this could be no part of your plan. No foreign authority was claimed here, neither was any such authority suspected by you, or acknowledged or imagined by us. What then, in the name of heaven, could you go to war for 1 Or what chance could you possibly have in the event, but either to hold the same country which you held before, and that in a much worse condition, or to lose, with an amazing expense, what you might have retained without a farthing of charges. War never can be the interest of a trading nation, any more than quarrelling can be profitable to a man in business. But to make war with those who trade with us, is like setting a 10 146 THE CRISIS. bull-dog upon a customer at the shop-door. The least degree of common sense shows the madness of the latter, and it will apply with the same force of conviction to the former. Piratical na- tions, having neither commerce or commodities of their own to lose, may make war upon all the world, and lucratively find their account in it; but it is quite otherwise with Britain: for, besides the stoppage of trade in time of war, she exposes more of her own property to be lost, than she has the chance of tak- ing from- others. Some ministerial gentlemen in parliament have mentioned the greatness of her trade as an apology fof the greatness of her loss. This is miserable politics indeed ! Because it ought to have been given as a reason for her not en- gaging in a war at first. The coast of America commands the West-India trade almost as effectually as the coast of Africa does that of the Straits; and England can no more carry on the former without the consent of America, than she can the latter without a Mediterranean pass. In whatever light the war with America is considered upon commercial principles, it is evidently the interest of the people of England not to support it; and why it has been supported so long, against the clearest demonstrations of truth and national advantage, is to me, and must be to all the reasonable world, a matter of astonishment. Perhaps it may be said that I live in America, and write this from interest. To this I reply, that my principle is universal. My attachment is to all the world, &.. J not to any particular part, and if what I advance is right, no matter where or who it comes from. We have given the pro- clamation of your commissioners a currency in our newspapers, and I have no doubt you will give this a place in yours. To oblige and be obliged is fair. Before I dismiss this part of my address, I shall mention one more circumstance in which I think the people of Eng- land have been equally mistaken: and then proceed to other matters. There is such an idea existing in the world, as that of national honor, and this falsely understood, is oftentimes the cause of war. In a Christian and philosophical sense, mankind seem to have stood still at individual civilization, and to retain as nations all the original rudeness of nature. Peace by treaty is only a cessation of violence for a reformation of sentiment It is a substitute for a principle that is wanting and ever will be wanting till the idea of national honor be rightly understood THE CRISIS. 1-17 As individuals we profess ourselves Christians, but as nations we are heathens, Romans, and what not. I remember the late Admiral Saunders declaring in the house of commons, and that in the time of peace, " That the city of Madrid laid in ashes was not a sufficient atonement for the Spaniards taking off the rudder of an English sloop of war." I do not ask whether this is Christianity or morality : I ask whether it is decency 1 whether it is proper language for a nation to use ? In private life we call it by the plain name of bullying, and the elevation of rank cannot alter its character. It is, I think, exceedingly easy to define what ought to be understood by national honor; for that which is the best character for an individual is the best charac- ter for a nation; and wherever the latter exceeds or falls be- neath the former, there is a departure from the line of true greatness. I have thrown out this observation with a design of applying it to Great Britain. Her ideas of national honor, seem devoid of that benevolence of heart, that universal expansion of phil- anthropy, and that triumph over the rage of vulgar prejudice, without which man is inferior to himself, and a companion of common animals. To know whom she shall regard or dislike, she asks what country they are of, what religion they profess, and what property they enjoy. Her idea of national honor seems to consist in national insult, and that to be a great people, is to be neither a Christian, a philosopher, or a gentle- man, but to threaten with the rudeness of a bear, and to devour with the ferocity of a lion. This perhaps may sound harsh and uncourtly, but it is too true, and the more is the pity. I mention this only as her general character. But towards America she has observed no character at all; and destroyed by her conduct what she assumed in her title. She set out with the title of parent, or mother country. The association of ideas which naturally accompany this expression, are tilled with every thing that is fond, tender and forbearing. They have an energy peculiar to themselves, and, overlooking the accidental attachment of common affections, apply with intinite softness to the first feelings of the heart. It is a political term which every mother can feel the force of, and every child can judge of. It needs no painting of mine to set it off, for nature onlv can do it justice. But has any part of your conduct to America corresponded wita the title you set up? If in your general national char- 148 THE CRISIS. acter you are unpolished and severe, in this you are inconsistent and unnatural, and you must have exceeding false notions of national honor, to suppose that the world can admire a want of humanity, or that national honor depends on the violence of resentment, the inflexibility of temper, or the vengeance of execution. I would willingly convince you, and that with as much temper as the times will suffer me to do, that as you opposed your own interest by quarrelling with us, so likewise your national honor, rightly conceived and understood, was no ways called upon to enter into a war with America; had you studied true greatness of heart, the first and fairest ornament of man- kind, you would have acted directly contrary to all that you have done, and the world would have ascribed it to a generous cause; besides which, you had (though with the assistance of this country) secured a powerful name by the last war. You were known and dreaded abroad ; and it would have been wise in you to have suffered the world to have slept undisturbed under that idea. It was to you a force existing without expense. It produced to you all the advantages of real power; and you were stronger through the universality of that- charm, than any future fleets and armies may probably make you. Your greatness was so secured and interwoven with your silence, that you ought never to have awakened mankind, and had nothing to do but to be quiet. Had you been true politi- cians you would have seen all this, and continued to draw from the magic of a name, the force and authority of a nation. Unwise as you were in breaking the charm, you were still more unwise in the manner of doing it. Samson only told the secret, but you have performed the operation; you have shaven your own head, and wantonly thrown away the locks. America was the hair from which the charm was drawn that infatuated the world. You ought to have quarrelled with no power; but with her upon no account. You had nothing to fear from any condescension you might make. You might have humored her, even if there had been no justice in her claims, without any risk to your reputation; for Europe, fasci- nated by your fame, would have ascribed it to /** benevolence, and America, intoxicated by the grant, worn 'S *r*ve slumbered in her fetters. But this method of studying the progress of the passions, in order to ascertain the probable conduct of mankind, is a phil- THE CRISIS. 149 osophy in politics which those who preside at St. James's have no conception of. They know no other influence than corrup- tion, and reckon all their probabilities from precedent. A new case is to them a new world, and while they are seeking for a parallel they get lost. The talents of Lord Mansfield can be estimated at best no higher than those of a sophist. He understands the subleties but not the elegance of nature; and by continually viewing mankind through the cold medium of the law, never thinks of penetrating into the warmer region of the mind. As for Lord North, it is his happiness to have in him more philosophy than sentiment, for he bears flogging like a top, and sleeps the better for it. His punishment becomes his support, for while he suffers the lash for his sins, he keeps himself up by twirling about. In politics, he is a good arith- metican, and in everything else nothing at all. There is one circumstance which comes so much within Lord North's province as a financier, that I am surprised it should escape him, which is, the different abilities of the two countries in supporting the expense: for, strange as it may seem, Eng- land is not a match for America in this particular. By a curious kind of revolution in accounts, the people of England seem to mistake their poverty for their riches ; that is, they reckon their national debt as a part of their national wealth. They make the same kind of error which a man would do, who after mortgaging his estate, should add the money borrowed, to the full value of the estate, in order to count up his worth, and in this case he would conceive that he got rich by running into debt. Just thus it is with Englano The government owed at the beginning of this war one Jaundied and thirty-five millions sterling, and though the individuals to whom it was due, had a right to reckon their shares as so much private pro- perty, yet to the nation collectively it was so nuch property. There is as effectual limits to public debts as to private ones, for when once the money borrowed is so great as to require the whole yearly revenue to discharge the interest thereon, there is an end to further borrowing; in the same manner as when the interest of a man's debts amounts to the yearly income of his estate, there is an end to his credit. This is nearly the case with England, the interest of her present debt being at least equal to one-half of her yearly revenue, so that out of ten millions annually collected by taxes, she has but live that she can call her owo THE CRISIS. The very reverse of this was the case with America; she began the war without any debt upon her, and in order to carry it on, she neither raised money by taxes, nor borrowed it upon interest, but created it; and her situation at this time contin- ues so much the reverse of yours that taxing would make her rich, whereas it would make you poor. When we shall have sunk the sum which we have created, we shall then be out of debt, be just as rich as when we began, and all the while we are doing it shall feel no difference, because the value will rise as the quantity decreases. There was not a country in the world so capable ot uer,ring the expense of a war as America; not only because she was not in debt when she began, but because the country is young and capable of infinite improvement, and has an almost boundless tract of new lands in store ; whereas England has got to her extent of age and growth, and has no unoccupied land or pro- perty in reserve. The one is like a young heir coming to a large improvable estate; the other like an old man whose chances are over, and his estate mortgaged for half its worth. In the second number of the Crisis, which I find has been republished in England, I endeavored to set forth the imprac- ticability .of conquering America. I stated every case, that I conceived could possibly happen, and ventured to predict its consequences. As my conclusions were drawn not artfully, but naturally, they have all proved to be true. I was upon the spot; knew the politics of America, her strength and resources, and by a train of services, the best in my power to render, was honored with the friendship of the congress, the army and the people. I considered the cause a just one. I know and feel it a just one, and under that confidence never made my own profit or loss an object. My endeavor was to have the matter well understood on both sides, and I conceived myself tendering a general service, by setting forth to- the one the impossibility of being conquered, and to the other the impossibility of conquer- ing. Most of the arguments made use of by the ministry for supporting the war, are the very arguments that ought to have been used against supporting it; and the plans, by which they thought to conquer, are the very plans in which they were sure to be defeated. They have taken everything up at the wrong ^nd. Their ignorance is astonishing, and were you in my aituation you would see it. They mav, perhaps, have your *o-hilence, but I am persuaded that thay would make very THE CRISIS. 151 indifferent members of congress. I know what England is, and what America is, and from the compound of knowledge, am better enabled to judge of the issue, than what the king or any of his ministers can be. In this number I have endeavored to show the ill policy aud disadvantages of the war. I believe many of my remarks are new. Those which are not so, I have studied to improve and place in a manner that may be clear and striking. Your failure is, I am persuaded, as certain as fate. America is above your reach. She is at least your equal in the world, and her inde- pendence neither rests upon your consent, nor can it be pre- vented by your arms. In short, you spend your substance in vain, and impoverish yourselves without a hope. But suppose you had conquered America, what advantages, collectively or individually, as merchants, manufacturers, or conquerors, could you have looked for. This is an object you seemed never to have attended to. Listening for the sound of victory, and led away by the frenzy of arms, you neglected to reckon either the cost of the consequences. You must all pay towards the expense; the poorest among you must bear his share, and it is both your right and your duty to weigh seri- ously the matter. Had America been conquered, she might have been parcelled out in grants to the favorites at court, but no share of it would have fallen to you. Your taxes would not have been lessened, because she would have been in no condi- tion to have paid any towards your relief. We are rich by a contrivance of our own, which would have ceased as soon as you became masters. Our paper money will be of no use in England, and silver and gold we have none. In the last war you made many conquests, but were any of your taxes lessened thereby ? On the contrary, were you not taxed to pay for the charge of making them, and have not the same been the case in every war 1 ? To the parliament I wish to address myself in a more particu- lar manner. They appear to have supposed themselves partners iu the chase, and to have hunted with the lion from an expecta- tion of a right in the booty ; but in this it is most probable they would, as legislators, have been disappointed. The case is quite a new one, and many unforeseen difficulties would have arisen thereon. The parliament claimed a legislative right over America, and the war originated from that pretence. But the army is supposed to belong to the crown, and if America had 152 THE CRISIS. been conquered through their means, the claim of the legisla- ture would have been suffocated in the conquest. Ceded, or conquered, countries are supposed to be out of the authority of parliament. Taxation is exercised over them by prerogative and not by law. It was attempted to be done in the Granadas a few years ago, and the only reason why it was not done was because the crown had made a prior relihquishment of its claim. Therefore, parliament have been all this while sup- porting measures for the establishment of their authority, in the same issue of which, they would have been triumphed over by the prerogative. This might have opened a new and interesting opposition between the parliament and the crown. The crown would have said that it conquered for itself, and that to conquer for parliament was an unknown case. The parliament might have replied, that America not being a for- eign country, but a country in rebellion, could not be said to be conquered, but reduced ; and thus continued their claim by disowning the term. The crown might have rejoined, that however America might be considered at first, she became for- eign at last by a declaration of independence, and a treaty with France ; and that her case being, by that treaty, put within the law of nations, was out of the law of parliament, who might have maintained, that as their claim over America had never been surrendered, so neither could it be taken away. The crown might have insisted, that though the claim of parlia- ment could not be taken away, yet, being an inferior, it might be superseded ; and that, whether the claim was withdrawn from the object, or the object taken from the claim, the same separation ensued; and that America being subdued after a treaty with France, was to all intents and purposes a regal con- quest, and of course the sole property of the King. The parlia- ment, as the legal delegates of the people, might have contended against the term " inferior," and rested the case upon the anti- quity of power, and this would have brought on a set of very interesting and rational questions. 1st, What is the original fountain of power and honor in any country ? 2nd, Whether the prerogative does not belong to the people ? 3rd, Whether there is any such thing as the English con- stitution ? 4th, Of what use is the crown to the people 1 THE CRISIS. 153 5th, Whether he who invented a crown was not an enemy to mankind ? 6th, Whether it is not a shame for a man to spend a million a year and do no good for it, and whether the money might not be better applied 1 7th, Whether such a man is not better dead than alive ? 8th, Whether a congress, constituted like that of America, is not the most happy and consistent form of government in the world 1 With a number of others of the same import. In short, the contention about the dividend might have dis- tracted the nation ; for nothing is more common than to agree in the conquest and quarrel for the prize ; therefore it is, per- haps, a happy circumstance, that our successes have prevented the dispute. If the parliament had been thrown out in their claim, which it is most probable they would, the nation likewise would have been thrown out in their expectation ; for as the taxes would have been laid on by the crown without the parliament, the revenue arising therefrom, if any could have arisen, would not have gone into the exchequer, but into the privy purse, and so far from lessening the taxes, would not even have been added to them, but served only as pocket money to the crown. The more I reflect on this matter, the more I am astonished at the blindness and ill policy of my countrymen, whose wisdom seems to operate without discernment, and their strength without an object. To the great bulwark of the nation, I mean the mercantile and manufacturing part thereof, I likewise present my address. It is your interest to see America an independent, and not a conquered country. If conquered, she is ruined ; and if ruined, poor ; consequently the trade will be a trifle, and her credit doubtful. If independent, she flourishes, and from her flour- ishing must your profits arise. It matters nothing to you who governs America, if your manufactures find a consumption there. Some articles will consequently be obtained from other places, and it is right that they should ; but the demand for others will increase, by the great influx of inhabitants which a state of independence and peace will occasion, and in the final event you may be enriched. The commerce of America is per- fectly free, aud ever will be so. She will consign away no part of it to any nation. She has not to her friends, and certainly will not to her enemies, though it is probable that your narrow- 154 THE CRISIS. minded politicians, thinking to please you thereby, may some time or other unnecessarily make such a proposal. Trade flourishes best when it is free, and it is weak policy to attempt to fetter it. Her treaty with France is on the most liberal and generous principles, and the French, in their conduct towards her, have proved themselves to be philosophers, politicians and gentlemen. To the ministry I likewise address myself. You, gentlemen, have studied the ruin of your country, from which it is not within your abilities to rescue her. Your attempts to recover her are as ridiculous as your plans which involved her are detestable. The commissioners, being about to depart, will probably bring you this, and with it my sixth number addressed to them ; and in so doing they carry back more " Common Sense " than they brought, and you likewise will have more than when you sent them. Having thus addressed you severally, I conclude by ad- dressing you collectively. It is a long lane that has no turn- ing. A period of sixteen years of misconduct and misfortune, is certainly long ^enough for any one nation to suffer under ; and upon a supposition that war is not declared between France and you, I beg to place a line of conduct before you that will easily lead you put of all your troubles. It has been hinted be- fore, and cannot be too much attended to. Suppose America had remained unknown to Europe till the present year, and that Mr. Banks and Dr. Solander, in another voyage round the world, had made the first discovery of her, in the same condition that she is now in, of arts, arms, numbers and civilization. What, I ask, in that case, would have been your conduct towards her 1 ? For that will point out what it ought to be now. The problems and their solutions are equal, and the right line of the one is the parallel of the other. The question takes in every circumstance that can possibly arise. It reduces politics to a simple thought, and is moreover a mode of investigation, in which, while you are studying your interest the simplicity of the case will cheat you into good temper. You have nothing to do but to suppose that you have found America, and she appears found to your hand, and while in the joy of your heart you stand still to admire her, the path of politics rises straight before you. Were I disposed to paint a contrast, I could easily set off what you have done in the present case, against what you woulrl THE CRISIS. 155 have done in that case, and by justly opposing them, conclude a picture that would make you blush. But, as when any of the prouder passions are hurt, it is much better philosophy to let a man slip into a good temper than to attack him in a bad one ; for that reason, therefore, I only state the case, and leave you to reflect upon it. To go a little back into politics, it will be found that the true interest of Britain lay in proposing and promoting the independ- ence of America immediately after the last peace; for the ex- pense which Britain had then incurred by defending America as her own dominions, ought to have shown her the policy and necessity of changing the style of the country, as the best pro- bable method of preventing future wars and expense, and the only method by which she could hold the commerce without the charge of sovereignty. Besides which, the title which she as- sumed, of parent country, led to, and pointed out the propriety, wisdom and advantage of a separation; for, as in private life, children grow into men, and by setting up for themselves, ex- tend and secure the interest of the whole family, so in the set- tlement of colonies large enough to admit of maturity, the same policy should be pursued, and the same consequences would follow. Nothing hurts the affections both of parents and children so much, as living too closely connected, and keeping up the distinction too long. Domineering will not do over those, who, by a pro- gress in life, have become equal in rank to their parents, that is, when they have families of their own; and though they may conceive themselves the subjects of their advice, will not sup- pose them the objects of their government. I do not, by draw- ing this parallel, mean to admit the title of parent country, because, if it is due anywhere, it is due to Europe collectively, and the first settlers from England were driven here by perse- cution. I mean only to introduce the term for the sake of policy, and to show from your title the line of your interest. When you saw the state of strength and opulence, and that by her own industry, which America had arrived at, you ought to have advised her to set up for herself, and proposed an alli- ance of irfterest with her, and in so doing you would have drawn, and that at her own expense, more real advantage, and more military supplies and assistance, both of ships and men, than from any weak and wrangling government that you could ex- ercise over her. In short had you studied only the domestic politics of a family, you would have learned how to govern the 156 THE CRISIS. state; but instead of this easy and natural line, you flew out into everything which was wild and outrageous, till, by follow- ing the passion and stupidity of the pilot, you wrecked the ves- sel within sight of the shore. Having shown what you ought to have done, I now proceed to show why it was not done. The caterpillar circle of the court had an interest to pursue, distinct from, and opposed to yours; for though, by the independence of America and an alli- ance therewith, the trade would have continued, if not increased, as in many articles neither country can go to a better market, and though by defending and protecting herself, she would have been no expense to you, and consequently your national charges would have decreased, and your taxes might have been propor- tionably lessened thereby; yet the striking off so many places from the court calendar was put in opposition to the interest of the nation. The loss of thirteen government ships, with their appendages, here and in England, is a shocking sound in the ear of a hungry courtier. Your present king and ministry will be the ruin of you; and you had better risk a revolution and call a congress, than be thus led on from madness to despair, and from despair to ruin. America has set you the example, and you may follow it and be free. I now come to the last part, a war with France. This is what no man in his senses will advise you to, and all good men would wish to prevent. Whether France will declare war against you, is not for me in this place to mention, or to hint, oven if I kaiew it; but it must be madness in you to do it first. The matter is come now to a full crisis, and peace is easy if willingly set about. Whatever you may think, France has behaved handsomely to you. She would have been unjust to herself to have acted otherwise than she did; and having accepted our offer of alliance, she gave you genteel notice of it. There was nothing in her conduct reserved or indelicate, and while she announced her determination to support her treaty, she left you to give the first offence. America, on her part, has exhibited a character of firmness to the world. Unprepared and unarmed, without form or government, she singly opposed a nation that domineered over half the globe. The greatness of the deed demands respect; and though you may feel resent- ment, you are compelled both to wonder and admire. Here I rest my arguments and finish my address. Such as it is, it is a gift, and you are welcome. It was always my design THE CRISIS. 157 to dedicate a Crisis to you, when the time should come that would properly make it a Crisis; and when, likewise, I should catch myself in a temper to write it, and suppose you in a con- dition to read it. That time has now arrived, and with it the opportunity of conveyance. For the commissioners poor com- missioners! having proclaimed, that "yet forty days and Nineveh shall be overthrown!" have waited out the date, and, discon- tented with their God, are returning to their gourd. And all the harm I wish them is, that it may not wither about their ears, and that they may not make their exit in the belly of a whale. COMMON SENSE. PHILADELPHIA, Nov. SI, 1778. P.S. Though in the tranquility of my mind I have con- cluded with a laugh, yet I have something to mention to the commissioners, which, to them, is serious and worthy their at- tention. Their authority is derived from an act of parliament, which likewise describes and limits their official powers. Their commission, therefore, is only a recital, and personal investiture, of those powers, or a nomination and description of the persons who are to execute them. Had it contained anything contrary to, or gone beyond the line of, the written law from which it is derived, and by which it is bound, it would, by the English constitution, have been treason in the crown, and the king been subject to an impeachment. He dared not, therefore, put in his commission what you have put in your proclamation, that is, he dared not have authorised you in that commission to burn and destroy anything in America. You are both in the act and in the commission styled commissioners for restoring peace, and the method for doing it are there pointed out. Youi last proclamation is signed by you as commissioners under the act. You make parliament the patron of its contents. Yet, in the body of it, you insert matters contrary both to the spirit and letter of the act, and what likewise your king dared not have put in his commission to you. The state of things in England, gentle- men, is too ticklish for you to run hazards. Your are account- able to parliament for the execution of that act according to the letter of it. Your heads may pay for breaking it, for you certainly have broke it by exceeding it. And as a friend, who would wish you to escape the paw of the lion, as well as the ^elly of the whale, .1 civilly hint to you, to keep within compose. 158 THE CRISIS. Sir Harry Clinton, strictly speaking, is as accountable as the rest; for though a general, he is like wise a commissioner, acting under a superior authority. His first obedience is due to the act; and his plea of being a general, will not and cannot clear him as a commissioner, for that would suppose the crown in its single capacity, to have a power of dispensing with an act of parliament. Your situation, gentlemen, is nice and critical, and the more so because England is unsettled. Take heed ! Remember the times of Charles the first! For Laud and Staf- ford fell by trusting to a hope Itke yours. Having thus shown you the danger of your proclamation, I now show you the folly of it The means contradict your design; you threaten to lay waste, in order to render America a useless acquisition of alliance to France. I reply, that the more destruction you commit (ftf you could do it) the more valuable to France you make that alliance. You can destroy only houses and goods, and by so doing you increase our de- mand upon her for materials and merchandise; for the wants of one nation, provided it has freedom and credit^ naturally produces riches to the other; and, as you can neither ruin the land nor prevent the vegetation, you would increase the exporta- tion of our produce in payment, which would be to her a new fund of wealth. In short, had you cast about for a plan or purpose to enrich your enemies, you could not have hit upon a better. c. a NUMBER VIII. ADDRESSED TO THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. " TRUSTING (says the king of England in his speech of No- vember last) in the divine providence, and in the justice of my cause, I am firmly resolved to prosecute the war with vigor, and to make every exertion in order to compel our enemies to equitable terms of peace and accommodation." To this declara- tion the United States of America, and the confederated powers of Europe will reply, if Britain will have war, she shall have enough of it. Five years have nearly elapsed since the commencement of hostilities, and every campaign, by a .gradual decay, has lessened your ability to conquer, without producing a serious thought on THE CRISIS. 159 your condition or yonr fate. Like a prodigal lingering in an habitual consumption, you feel the relics of life, and mistake them for recovery. New schemes, like new medicines, have administered fresh hopes, and prolonged the disease instead of curing it* A change of generals, like a change of physicians, served only to keep the flattery alive, and furnish new pretences for a new extravagance. "Caa Britain fail?"* has been proudly asked at the under- taking of every enterprise, and that " whatever she wills is fate," t has been giveii with the solemnity of prophetic confidence, and though the question has been constantly replied to by disap- pointment, and the prediction falsified by misfortune, yet still the insult continued, and your catalogue of national evils in- creased therewith. Eager to persuade the world of her power, she considered destruction as the minister of greatness, and con- ceived that the glory of a nation, like that of an Indian, lay in the number of its scalps and the miseries which it inflicts. Fire, sword and want, as far as the arms of Britain could extend them, have been spread with wanton cruelty along the coast of America ; and while you, remote from the scene of suffering, had nothing to lose and as little to dread, the informa- tion reached you like a tale of antiquity, in which the distance of time defaces the conception, and changes the severest sor- rows into conversable amusement. This makes the second paper, addressed perhaps in vain to the people of England. That advice should be taken wherever example has failed ; or precept be regarded where warning is ridiculed, is like a picture of hope resting on despair ; but when time shall stamp with universal currency the facts you have long encountered with a laugh, and the irresistible evidence of accumulated losses, like the hand writing on the wall, shall add terror to distress, you will then, in a conflict of suffering, learn to sympathise with others by feeling for yourselves. The triumphant appearance of the combined fleets in the channel and at your harbor's mouth, and the expedition of captain Paul Jones, on the western and eastern coasts of Eng- land and Scotland, will, by placing you in the condition of an endangered country, read to you a stronger lecture on the calami- ties of invasion, and bring to your minds a truer picture of pro- * Whitehead's new-year's ode for 1776. t Ode at the installation of Lord North, for Cha-cellor of the university of Oxford. 160 THE CRISIS. miscuous distress, than the most finished rhetoric can describe or the keenest imagination conceive. "Hitherto you have experienced the expenses, but nothing of the miseries of war. Your disappointments have been accompanied with no immediate suffering, and your losses came to you only by intelligence. Like fire at a distance you heard not even the cry; you felt not the danger, you saw not the confusion. To you everything has been foreign but the taxes to support it. You knew not what it was to be alarmed at midnight with an armed enemy in the streets. You were strangers to the dis- tressing scene of a family in flight, and to the thousand restless cares and tender sorrows that incessantly arose. To see women and children wandering in the severity of winter, with the broken remains of a well-furnished house, and seeking shelter in every crib and hut, were matters that you had no conception of. You knew not what it was to stand by and see your goods chopped for fuel, and your beds ripped to pieces to make pack- ages for plunder. The misery of others, like a tempestuous night, added to the pleasures of your own security. You even enjoyed the storm, by contemplating the difference of conditions, and that which carried sorrow into the breasts of thousands, served but to heighten in you a species of tranquil pride. Yet these are but the fainter sufferings of war, when compared with carnage and slaughter, the miseries of a military hospital, or a town in flames. The people of America, by anticipating distress, had fortified their minds against every species you could inflict. They had resolved to abandon their homes, to resign them to destruction, and to seek new settlements rather than submit Thus familar- ized to misfortune, before it arrived, they bore their portion with the less regret: the justness of their cause was a continual source of consolation, and the hope of final victory, which never left them, served to lighten the load and sweeten the cup al- lotted them to drink. But when their troubles shall become yours, and invasion be transferred upon the invaders, you will have neither their ex- tended wilderness to fly to, their cause to comfort you, nor their hope to rest upon. Distress with them was sharpened by no self-reflection. They had not brought it on themselves. On the contrary, they had by every proceeding endeavored to avoid it, and had descended even below the mark of congressional character, to prevent a war. The national honor or the advant- THE CRISIS. 161 ages of independence were matters, which at the commence- ment of the dispute, they had never studied, and it was only at the last moment that the measure was resolved on. Thus cir- cumstanced, they naturally and conscientiously felt a depen- dence upon providence. They had a clear pretension to it, and had they failed therein, infidelity had gained a triumph. But your condition is the reverse of theirs. Everything you suffer you have sought: nay, had you created mischiefs on purpose to inherit them, you could not have secured your 'title by a firmer deed. The world awakens with no pity at your complaints. You felt none for others; you deserve none for yourselves. Nature does not interest herself in cases like yours, but, on the contrary, turns from them with dislike, and aban- dons them to punishment. You may now present memorials to what court you please, but so far as America is the object, none will listen. The policy of Europe, and the propensity there in every mind to curb insulting ambition, and bring cruelty to judgment, are unitedly against you; and where nature and interest reinforce each other, the compact is too intimate to be dissolved. Make but the case of others your own, and your own theirs, and you will then have a clear idea of the whole. Had France acted towards her colonies as you have done, you would have branded her with every epithet of abhorrence; and had you, like her, stepped in to succour a struggling people, all Europe must have echoed with your own applauses. But entangled in the passion of dispute, you see it not as you ought, and form opinions thereon which suit with no interest but your own. You wonder that America does not rise in union with you to impose on herself a portion of your taxes and reduce herself to unconditional submission. You are amazed that the south- ern powers of Europe do not assist you in conquering a country which is afterwards to be turned against themselves; and that the northern ones do not contribute to reinstate you in America who already enjoy the market for naval stores by the separation. You seem surprised that Holland does not pour in her succors, to maintain you mistress of the seas, when her own commerce is suffering by your act of navigation; or that any country should study her own interest while yours is on the carpet. Such excesses of passionate folly, and unjust as well as un- wise resentment, have driven you on, like Pharaoh, to unpitied miseries, and while the importance of the quarrel shall per- il 162 THE CRISIS. petuate your disgrace, the flag of America will carry it round the world. The natural feelings of every rational being will be against you, and wherever the story shall be told, you will have neither excuse nor consolation left. With an unsparing hand, and an insatiable mind, you have desolated the world, to gain dominion and to lose it; and while, in a frenzy of avarice and ambition, the east and the west are doomed to tributary bondage, you rapidly earned destruction as the wages of a nation. At the thoughts of a war at home, every man amongst you ought to tremble. The prospect is far more dreadful there than in America. Here the party that was against the mea- sures of the continent were in general composed of a kind of neutrals, who added strength to neither army. There does not exist a being so devoid of sense and sentiment as to covet "unconditional submission," and therefore no man in America could be with you in principle. Several might from cowardice of mind, prefer it to the hardships and dangers of opposing it ; but the same disposition that gave them such a choice, unfitted them to act either for or against us. But England is rent into parties, with equal shares of resolution. The principle which produced the war divides the nation. Their animosities are in the highest state of fermentation, and both sides, by a call of the miiitia, are in arms. No human foresight can discern, no conclusion can be formed, what turn a war might take, if once set on foot by an invasion. She is not now in a fit disposition to make a common cause of her own affairs, and having no con- quests to hope for abroad, and nothing but expenses arising at home, her everything is staked upon a defensive combat, and the further she goes the worse she is off. There are situations that a nation may be in, in which peace or war, abstracted from every other consideration, may be politically right or wrong. When nothing can be lost by a war, but what must be lost without it, war is then the policy of that country; and such was the situation of America at the c -mencement of hostilities; but when no security can be gained by a war, but what may be accomplished by a peace, the case becomes reversed, and such now is the situation of Eng- land. That America is beyond the reach of conquest, is a fact which experience has shown and time confirmed, and this ad- mitted, what, I ask, is now the obiect of contention? If there THE CRISIS. 1G3 be any honor in pursuing self destruction with inflexible passion if national suicide be the perfection of national glory, you may, with all the pride of criminal happiness, expire unenvied and unrivalled. But when the tumult of war shall cease, and the tempest of present passions be succeeded by calm reflection, or when those, who, surviving its fury, shall inherit from you a legacy of debts and misfortunes, when the yearly revenue shall scarcely be able to discharge the interest of the one, and no possible remedy be left for the other, ideas, far different from the present, will arise, and imbitter the remembrance of former follies. A mind disarmed of its rage, feels no pleasure in contemplating a frantic quarrel. Sickness of thought, the sure consequence of conduct like yours, leaves no ability for enjoyment, no relish for resentment; and though, like a man in a fit, you feel not the injury of the struggle, nor distinguish between strength and disease, the weakness will nevertheless be proportioned to the violence, and the sense of pain increase with the discovery. To what persons or to whose system of politics you owe your present state of wretchedness, is a matter of total indifference to America. They have contributed, however, unwillingly, to set her above themselves, and she, in the tranquility of con- quest, resigns the inquiry. The case now is not so properly who began the war, as who centimes it. That there are men in all countries to whom a state of war is a mine of wealth, is a fact never to be doubted. Characters like these naturally breed in the putrefaction of distempered times, and after fatten- ing on the disease, they perish with it, or, impregnated with the stench, retreat into obscurity. But there are several erroneous notions to which you like- wise owe a share of your misfortunes, and which, if continued, will only increase your trouble and your losses. An opinion hangs about the gentlemen of the minority, that America would relish measures under their administration, which she would not from the present cabinet. On this rock Lord Chat- ham would have split had he gained the helm, and several of his survivors are steering the same course. Such distinctions in the infancy of the argument had some degree of foundation, but they now serve no other purpose than to lengthen out a war, in which the limits of a dispute being fixed by the fate of arms, and guaranteed by treaties, are not to be changed or altered by trivial circumstances. 164 THE CRISIS. 'The ministry, and many of the minority, sacrifice their time in disputing on a question with which they have nothing to do, namely, whether America shall be independent or not 1 Whereas the only question that can come under their determination is, whether they will accede to it or not? They confound a mili- tary question with a political one, and undertake to supply by a vote what they lost by battle. Say, she shall not be inde- pendent, and it will signify as much as if they voted against a decree of faith, or say that she shall, and she will be no more independent than before. Questions, which when determined, cannot be executed, serve only to show the folly of dispute and the weakness of disputants. From a long habit of calling America your own, you suppose her governed by the same prejudices and conceits which govern yourselves. Because you have set up a particular de- nomination of religion to the exclusion of all others, you imagine she must do the same, and because you, with an unsociable nar- rowness of mind, have cherished enmity against France and Spain, you suppose her alliance must be defective in friendship. Copying her notions of the world from you, she formerly thought as you instructed, but now feeling herself free, and the prejudices removed, she thinks and acts upon a different system. It frequently happens that in proportion as we are taught to dislike persons and countries, not knowing why, we feel an ardor of esteem upon the removal of the mistake: it seems as if something was to be made amends for, and we eagerly give in every office of friendship, to atone for the injury of the error. But, perhaps, there is something in the extent of countries, which, among the generality of the people, insensibly communi- cates extension of the mind. The soul of an islander, in its native state, seems bounded by the foggy confines of the water's edge, and all beyond affords to him matters only for profit or curiosity, not for friendship. His island is to him his world, and fixed at that, his everything centres in it ; while those, who are inhabitants of a continent, by casting their eye over a larger field, take in likewise a larger intellectual circuit, and thus approaching nearer to an acquaintance with the universe, their atmosphere of thought is extended, and their liberality fills a wider space. In short, our minds seem to be measured by countries when we are men, as they are by places when we are THE CRISIS. 165 child rer., and until something happens to disentangle us from the prejudices, we serve under it without perceiving it. In addition to this, it may be remarked, that men who study any universal science, the principles of which are universally known, or admitted, and applied without distinction to the common benafits of all countries, obtain thereby a larger share of philantrophy than those who only study national arts and improvements. Natural philosophy, mathematics and astro- nomy, carry the mind from the country to the creation, and give it a fitness suited to the extent. It was not Newton's honor, neither could it be his pride, that he was an Englishman, but that he was a philosopher; the heavens had liberated him from the prejudices of an island, and science had expanded his soul as boundless as his studies. COMMON SENSK PHILADELPHIA, March, 17SO. NUMBER IX. HAD America pursued her advantages with half the spirit that she resisted her misfortunes, she would, before now, have been a conquering and a peaceful people; but lulled in the lap of soft tranquillity, she rested on her hopes, and adversity only has convulsed her into action. Whether subtlety or sincerity at the close of the last year, induced the enemy to an appear- ance for peace, is a point not material to know; it is sufficient that we see the effects it has had on our politics, and that we sternly rise to resent the delusion. The war, on the part of America, has been a war of natural feelings. Brave in distress; serene in conquest; drowsy while at rest; and in every situation generously dispose to peace. A dangerous claim, and a most heightened zeal, have, as circum- stances varied, succeeded each other. Every passion, but that of despair, has been called to a tour of duty ; and so mistaken has been the enemy, of our abilities and disposition, that when she supposed us conquered we rose the conquerors. The ex- tensiveness of the United States, and the variety of her re- sources; the universality of their cause, the quick operation of their feelings, and the similarity of their sentiments, have, in every trying situation, produced a something, which, favored by providence, and pursued with ardor, has accomplished in an 166 THE CRISIS. instant the business of a campaign. We have never deliberately sought victory, but snatched it : and bravely undone in an hour, the blotted operations of a season. The reported fate of Charleston, like the misfortunes of 1776, has at last called forth a spirit, and kindled up a flame, which perhaps no other event could have produced. If the enemy has circulated a falsehood, they have unwisely aggrava- ted us into life, and if they have told us a truth, they have unintentionally done us a service. We were returning with folded arms from the fatigues of war, and thinking and sitting leisurely down to enjoy repose. The dependence that has been put upon Charleston threw a drowsiness over America. We looked on the business done the conflict over the matter settled or that all which remained unfinished would follow of itself. In this state of dangerous relaxation, exposed to the poisonous infusions of the enemy, and having no common dan- ger to attract our attention, we were extinguishing, by stages, the ardor we began with, and surrendering by piece-meals the virtue that defended us. Afflicting as the loss of Charleston may be, yet if it univer- sally rouse us from the slumber of twelve months past, and renew in us the spirit of former days, it will produce an ad- vantage more important than its loss. America ever is what she thinks herself to be. Governed by sentiment, and acting her own mind, she becomes, as she pleases, the victor or the victim. It is not the conquest of towns, nor the accidental capture of garrisons, that can reduce a country so extensive as this. The sufferings of one part can never be relieved by the exer- tions of another, and there is no situation the enemy can be placed in, that does not afford to us the same advantages he seeks himself. By dividing his force, he leaves every post attackable. It is a mode of war that carries with it a confes- sion of weakness, and goes on the principle of distress, rather than conquest. The decline of the enemy is visible, not only in their opera- tions, but in their plans; Charleston originally made but a secondary object in the system of attack, and it is now become the principal one, because they have not been able to succeed elsewhere. It would have carried a cowardly appearance in Europe had they formed their grand expedition, in 1776, against a part of the continent where there was no army, or not a THE CRISIS. 167 sufficient one to oppose them ; but failing year after year in their impressions here, and to the eastward and northward, they deserted their capital design, and prudently contenting themselves with what they could get, give a flourish of honor to conceal disgrace. But this piece-meal work is not conquering the continent. It is a discredit in them to attempt it, and in us to suffer it. It is now full time to put an end to a war of aggravations, which, on one side, has no possible object, and on the other, has every inducement which honor, interest, safety and happi- ness can inspire. If we suffer them much longer to remain among us, we shall become as bad as themselves. An associa- tion of vice will reduce us more than the sword. A nation hardened in the practice of iniquity knows better how to profit by it, than a young country newly corrupted. We are not a match for them in the line of advantageous guilt, nor they for us on the principles which we bravely set out with. Our first days were our days of honor. They have marked the charac- ter of America wherever the story of her wars are told : and convinced of this, we have nothing to do, but wisely and unitedly tread the well-known track. The progress of a war is often as ruinous to individuals, as the issue of it is to a nation; and it is not only necessary that our forces be such that we be conquerors in the end, but that by timely exertions we be secure in the interim. The present campaign will afford an opportunity which has never presented itself before, and the preparations for it are equally necessary, whether Charles- ton stand or fall. Suppose the first, it is in that case only a failure of the enemy, not a defeat. All the conquest that a besieged town can hope for, is, not to be conquered ; and com- pelling an enemy to raise the seige, is to the besieged a victory. But there must be a probability amounting almost to certainty, that would justify a garrison marching out to attack a retreat. Therefore should Charleston not be taken, and the enemy abandon the seige, every other part of the continent should prepare to meet them; and, on the contrary, should it be taken, the same preparations are necessary to balance the loss, and put ourselves in a condition to co-operate with our allies im- mediately on their arrival. We are not now fighting our battles alone, as we were in 1776; England from a malicious disposition to America, has not onlv not declared war against France and Spain, but the 168 THE CRISIS. better to prosecute her passions here, has afforded those powers no military object, and avoids them, to distress us. She will suffer her West India islands to be overrun by France, and her southern settlements to be taken by Spain, rather than quit the object that gratifies her revenge. This conduct on the part of Britain, has pointed out the propriety of France send- ing a naval and land force to co-operate with America on the spot. Their arrival cannot be very distant, nor the ravages of the enemy long. The recruiting the army, and procuring the supplies, are the two things most necessary to be accomplished, and a capture of either of the enemy's divisions will restore to America peace and plenty. At a crisis, big, like the present, with expectation and events, the whole country is called to unanimity and exertion. Not an ability ought now to sleep, that can produce but a mite to the general good, nor even a whisper to pass that militates against it. The necessity of the case, and the importance of the consequences, admit no delay from a friend, no apology from an enemy. To spare now would be the height of extrav- agance, and to consult present ease, would be to sacrifice it, perhaps forever. America, rich in patriotism and produce, can want neither men nor supplies, when a serious necessity calls them forth. The slow operation of taxes, owing to the extensiveness of col- lection, and their depreciated value before they arrived in the treasury, have, in many instances, thrown a burden upon gov- ernment, which has been artfully interpreted by the enemy into a general decline throughout the country. Yet this, incon- venient as it may at first appear, is not only remediable, but may be turned into an immediate advantage; for it makes no real difference, whether a certain number of men, or company of militia (and in this country every man is a militia-man) are directed by law to send a recruit at their own expense, or whether a tax is laid on them for that purpose, and the man hired by government afterwards. The first, if there is any difference, is both cheapest and best, because it saves the ex- pense which would attend collecting it as a tax, and brings the man sooner into the field than the modes of recruiting formerly used; and, on this principle, a law has been passed in this state, for recruiting two men from each company of militia, which will add upwards of a thousand to the force of the country. THE CRISIS. 169 But the flame which has broke forth in this city since the report from New York, of the loss of Charleston, not only does honor to the place, but, like the blaze of 1776, will kindle into action the scattered sparks throughout America. The valor of a country may be learned by the bravery of its soldiery, end the general cast of its inhabitants, but confidence of suc- cess is best discovered by the active measures pursued by men of property; and when the spirit of interprise becomes so uni- versal as to act at once on all ranks of men, a war may then, and no" till then, be styled truly popular. In 1776, the ardor of the enterprising part was considerably checked by the real revolt of some, and the coolness of others. But in the present case, there is a firmness in the substance and property of the country to the public cause. An associa- tion has Veen entered into by the merchants, tradesmen, and principal inhabitants of the city, to receive and support the new state money at the value of gold and silver; a measure which, while it does them honor, will likewise contribute to their interest, by rendering the operations of the campaign convenient and effectual. Nor has the spirit of exertion stopped here. A voluntary subscription is likewise begun, to raise a fund of hard money, to be given as bounties, to fill up the full quota of the Penn- sylvania line. It has been the remark of the enemy, that everything in America has been done by the force of govern- ment; but when she sees individuals throwing in their volun- tary aid, and facilitating the public measures in concert with the established powers of the country, it will convince her that the cause of America stands not on the will of a few, but on the broad foundation of property and popularity. Thus aided and thus supported, disaffection will decline, and the withered head of tyranny expire in America. The ravages of the enemy will be short and limited, and like all their for- mer ones, will produce a victory over themselves. COMMON SENSE. PHILADELPHIA, June 9th, 17$0. At the time of writing this number of the "Crisis," the loss of Charleston, though believed by some, was more confidently disbelieved by others. But there ought to be no longer a doubt upon the matter. Charleston is gone, and I Believe for the want of a sufficient supply of provisions. The 170 THE CRISIS. man that does not now feel for the honor of the best and noblest cause that ever a country engaged in, and exert himself accordingly, is no longer worthy of a peaceable residence among a people determined to be free. C. S. NUMBER X. N THE SUBJECT OF TAXATION. IT is impossible to sit down and think seriously on the affairs of America, but the original principles on which she resisted, and the glow and ardor which they inspired, will occur like the undefaced remembrance of a lovely scene. To trace over in imagination the purity of the cause, the voluntary sacri- fices that were made to support it, and all the various turnings of the war in its defence, is at once paying and receiving respect. The principles deserve to be remembered, and to remember them rightly is repossessing them. In this indulg- ence of generous recollection, we become gainers by what we seem to give, and the more we bestow the richer we become. So extensively right was the ground on which America pro ceeded, that it not only took in every just and liberal sentiment which could impress the heart, but made it the direct interest of every class and order of men to defend the country. Th< war, on the part of Britain, was originally a war of covetous ness. The sordid, and not the splendid, passions gave it being. The fertile fields and prosperous infancy of America appeared to her as mines for tributary wealth. She viewed the hive, and disregarding the industry that had enriched it, thirsted for the honey. But in the present stage of her affairs, the violence of temper is added to the rage of avarice; and therefore, thai which at the first setting out proceeded from purity of principle and public interest, is now heightened by all the obligations of necessity; for it requires but little knowledge of human nature to discern what would be the consequences, were America again reduced to the subjection of Britain. Uncontrolled power, in the hands of an incensed, imperious, and rapacious conqueror, is an engine of dreadful execution, and woe be to that country over which it can be exercised. The names of whig and tory would then be sunk in the general term of rebel, and thp THE CRISIS. 171 oppregsion, whatever it might be, would, with very few in- stances of exception, light equally on all. Britain did not go to war with America for the sake of dominion, because she was then in possession; neither was it for the extension of trade and commerce, because she had mono- polized the whole, and the country had yielded to it; neither was it to extinguish what she might call rebellion, because before she began no resistance existed. It could then be from no other motive than avarice, or a design of establishing, in the first instance, the same taxes in America as are paid in England (which, as I shall presently show, are above eleven times heavier than the taxes we now pay for the present year, 1780) or, in the second instance, to confiscate the whole property of America, in case of resistance and conquest of the latter, of which she had then no doubt. I shall now proceed to show what the taxes in England are, and what the yearly expense of the present war is to her what the taxes of this country amount to, and what the annual expense of defending it effectually will be to us; and shall endeavour concisely to point out the cause of our difficul- ties, and the advantages on one side, and the consequences on the other, in case we do, or do not, put ourselves in an effectual state of defence. I mean to be open, candid and sincere. I see a universal wish to expel the enemy from the country, a murmuring because the war is not carried on with more vigor, and my intention is to show, as shortly as possible, both the reason and the remedy. The number of souls in England (exclusive of Scotland and Ireland) is seven millions, * and the number of souls in America is three millions. The amount of taxes in England (exclusive of Scotland and Ireland) was, before the present war commenced, eleven millions six hundred and forty-two thousand six hundred and fifty- three pounds sterling; which, on an average, is no less a sum than one pound thirteen shillings and three-pence sterling per head per annum, men, women and children; besides county taxes, for the support of the poor, and a tenth of all the pro- duce of the earth for the support of the bishops and clergy. Nearly five millions of this sum went annually to pay the interest of the national debt, contracted by former wars, and * This is taking the highest number that the people of England have been, or can be rated at. 172 THE CRISIS. the remaining sum of six millions six hundred and forty-two thousand six hundred pounds was applied to defray the yearly expense of government, the peace establishment of the army and navy, placemen, pensioners, &c., consequently, the whole of the enormous taxes being thus appropriated, she had nothing to spare out of them towards defrayirg the expenses of the present war or any other. * Yet had she not been in debt at the beginning of the war, as we were not, and, like us, had only a land and not a naval war to carry on, her then revenue of eleven millions and a-half pounds sterling would have defrayed all her annual expenses of war and government within each year. But this not being the case with her, she is obliged to bor- row about ten millions pounds sterling, yearly, to prosecute the war that she is now engaged in, (this year she borrowed twelve) and lay on new taxes to discharge the interest; allowing that the present war has cost her only fifty millions sterling, the interest thereon, at five per cent., will be two millions and an half; therefore the amount of her taxes now must be fourteen millions, which on an average is no less than forty shillings sterling per head, men, women and children, throughout the * The following is taken from Dr. Price's state of the taxes of England, p. 96, 97, 98. An account of the money drawn from the public by taxes, annually, being the medium of three years before the year 1776. Amount of customs in England 2,528,275 Amount of the excise in England ........ 4,649,892 Land tax at fe 1,300,000 Land tax at Is. in the pound 450,000 Salt duties . 218,739 Duties on stamps, cards, dice, advertisements, bonds, leases, indentures, newspapers, almanacks, &c. . . 280,788 Duties on houses and windows 385,8(59 Post office, seizures, wine licences, hackney coaches, &c. 250,000 Annual profits from lotteries 150,000 Expense of collecting the excise in England .... 297,887 Expense of collecting the customs in England .... 468,700 Interest of loans on the land tax at 4s. expenses of collec- tion, militia, &c 250,000 Perquisites, &c. to custsm-house officers, &c supposed . 250,000 Expense of collecting the salt duties in England 10 per cent 27,000 Bounties on fish exported 18,000 Expense of collecting the duties on stamps, cards, adver- tisments, &c. at 5$ per cent 18,000 Total . . . 11,642,653 THE CRISIS. 173 nation. Now as this expense of fifty millions was borrowed on the hopes of conquering America, and as it was avarice which first induced her to commence the war, how truly wretched and deplorable would the condition of this country be, were she, by her own remissness, to suffer an enemy of such a disposition, and so circumstanced, to reduce her to subjection. I now proceed to the revenues of America. I have already stated the number of souls in America to be three millions, and by a calculation that I have made, which I have every reason to believe is sufficiently correct, the whole expense of the war, and the support of the several governments, may be defrayed by two million pounds sterling annually; which, on an average, is thirteen shillings and four pence per head, men, women, and children, and the peace establishment at the end of the war, will be but three-quarters of a million, or five shillings sterling per head. Now, throwing out of the question everything of honor, principle, happiness, freedom and reputation in the world, and taking it up on the simple ground of interest, I put the following case : Suppose Britain was to conquer America, and, as a conqueror, was to lay her under no other conditions than to pay the same proportion towards her annual revenue which the people of England pay; our share, in that case, would be six million pounds sterling yearly ; can it then be a question, whether it is best to raise two millions to defend the country, and govern it ourselves, and only three-quarters of a million afterwards, or pay six millions to have it conquered, and let the enemy govern it? Can it be supposed that conquerors would choose to put them- selver in a worse condition than what they granted to the con- quered ? In England, the tax on rum is five shillings and one penny sterling per gallon, which is one silver dollar and four- teen coppers. Now would it not be laughable to imagine, that after the expense they have been at, they would let either whig or tory drink it cheaper than themselves ? Coffee, which is so inconsiderable an article of consumption and support here, is there loaded with a duty, which makes the price between five and six shillings per pound, and a penalty of fifty pounds ster- ling on any person detected in roasting it in his own house. There is scarcely a necessary of life that you can eat, drink, wear, or enjoy, that is not there loaded with a tax; even the light from heaven is only permitted to shine into their dwell- 174 THE CRISIS. ings by paying eighteen pence sterling per window annually ; and the humblest drink of life, small beer, cannot there be pur- chased without a tax of nearly two coppers per gallon, besides a heavy tax upon the malt, and another on the hops before it is brewed, exclusive of a land tax on the earth which produces them. In short, the condition of that country, in point of tax- ation, is so oppressive, the number of her poor so great, and the extravagance and rapaciousness of the court so enormous, that, were they to effect a conquest of America, it is then only that the distresses of America would begin. Neither would it sig- nify anything to a man whether he be whig or tory. The peo- ple of England, and the ministry of that country, know us by no such distinctions. What they want is clear, solid revenue, and the modes which they would take to procure it would oper- ate alike on all. Their manner of reasoning would be short, because they would naturally infer, that if we were able to carry on a war of five or six years against them, we were able to pay the same taxes which they do. I have already stated that the expense of conducting the present war, and the government of the several states, may be done for two millions sterling, and the establishment in time of peace for three-quarters of a million.* As to navy matters, they flourish so well, and are so well attended to by individuals, that I think it consistent on every principle of real use and economy, to turn the navy into hard money (keeping only three or four packets) and apply it to the service of the army. We shall not have a ship the less ; the use of them, and the benefit from them, will be greatly increased, and their expense saved. We are now allied with a formidable naval power, from whom we derive the assistance of a navy. And the line in which we can prosecute the war, so as to reduce the common enemy and benefit the alliance most effectually, will be by attending closely to the land service. I estimate the charge of keeping up and maintaining an army, officering them, and all expenses included, sufficient for the defence of the country, to be equal to the expense of forty thou- sand men at thirty pounds sterling per head, which is one million two hundred thousand pounds. * I have made the calculations in sterling, because it is a rate generally known in all the states, and because, likewise, it admits of an easy compari- son between 6~ur expense to support the war, and those of the enemy. Four silver dollars and a half is one pound sterling, and three pence over. THE CRISIS. 175 I likewise allow four hundred thousand pounds for continen- tal expenses at home and abroad. And four hundred thousand pounds for the support of the several state governments the amount will then be, For the army 1,200,000 Continental expenses at home and abroad .... 400,000 Government of the several states 400,000 Total 2,000,000 I take the proportion of this state, Pennsylvania, to be an eighth part of the thirteen United States; the quota then for us to raise will be two hundred and fifty thousand pounds ster- ling; two hundred thousand of which will be our share for the support and pay of -the army, and continental expenses at home and abroad, and fifty thousand pounds for the support of the state government. L order to gain an idea of the proportion in which the rais- ing such a sum will fall, I make the following calculation. Pennsylvania contains three hundred and seventy-five thou- sand inhabitants, men, women, and children; which is likewise an eighth of the number of inhabitants of the whole United States; therefore two hundred and fifty thousand pounds ster- ling to be raised among three hundred and seventy-five thousand persons, is, on an average, thirteen shillings and four pence per head, per annum, or something more than one shilling sterling per month. And our proportion of three-quarters of a million for the government of the country, in the time of peace, will be ninety -three thousand seven hundred and fifty pounds sterling ; fifty thousand of which will be for the government expenses of the state, and forty-three thousand seven hundred and fifty pounds for continental expenses at home and abroad. The peace establishment then will, on an average, be five shillings sterling per head. Whereas, was England now to stop, and the war cease, her peace establishment would continue the same as it now is, viz., forty shillings per head; therefore was our taxes necessary for carrying on the war, as much per head as hers now is, and the difference to be only whether we should, at the end of the war, pay at the rate of five shillings per head, or forty shillings per head, the case needs no thinking of. But as we can securely defend and keep the country for one third less than what our burden would be if it was conquered, and t the governments afterwards for one eighth of what 176 THE CEISI8. Britain would levy on us, and could I find a miser whose heart never left the emotion of a spark of principle, even that man, uninfluenced by every love but the love of money, and capable of no attachment but to his interest, would and must, from the frugality which governs him, contribute to the defence of the country, or he ceases to be a miser and becomes an idiot. But when we take in with it everything that can ornament man- kind; when the line of our interest becomes the line of our happi- ness; when all that can cheer and animate the heart; when a sense of honor, fame, character, at home and abroad, are inter- woven not only with the security but the increase of property, there exists not a man in America, unless he be an hired emis- sary, who does not see that his good is connected with keeping up a sufficient defence. I do not imagine that an instance can be produced in the world, of a country putting herself to such an amazing charge to conquer and enslave another, as Britain has done. The sum is too great for her to think of with any tolerable degree of temper ; and when we consider the burden she sustains, as well as the disposition she has shown, it would be the height of folly in us to suppose that she would not reimburse herself by the most rapid means, had she America once more within her power. With such an oppression of expense, what would an empty conquest be to her? What relief under such circumstances could she derive from a victory without a prize 1 It was money, it was revenue she first went to war for, and nothing but that would satisfy her. It is not the nature of avarice to be satis- fied with anything else. Every passion that acts upon mankind has a peculiar mode of operation. Many of them are temporary and fluctuating; they admit of cessation and variety. But ava- rice is a fixed, uniform passion. It neither abates of its vigor nor changes its object; and the reason why it does not, is founded in the nature of things, for wealth has not a rival where avarice is a ruling passion. One beauty may excel an- other, and extinguish from the mind of man the pictured remem- orance of a former one : but wealth is the phoenix of avarice, and therefore cannot seek a new object because, there is not Another in the world. I now pass on to show the value of the present taxes, and compare them with the annual expense; but this I shall pre- tace with a few explanatory remarks. "There are two distinct things which make the payment of THE CRISIS. 177 taxes difficult; the one is the large and real value of the sum to be paid, and the other is the scarcity of the thing in which the payment is to be made; and although these appear to be one and the same, they are in several instances not only differ- ent, but the difficulty springs from different causes. Suppose t, tax u> be laid equal to one half of what a man's yearly income is, such a tax could not be paid, because the pro- perty could not be spared; and on the other hand, suppose a very trifling tax was laid, to be collected in pearls, such a tax likewise could not be paid, because they could not be had. Now any person may see that these are distinct cases, and the latter of them is a representation of our own. That the difficulty cannot proceed from the former, that is, from the real value or weight of the tax, is evident at the first view to any person who will consider it. The amount of the quota of taxes for this state, for the pres- ent year, 1780, (and so in proportion for evey other state) is twenty millions of dollars, which, at seventy for one, is but sixty- four thousand two hundred and eighty pounds three shillings sterling, and on an average, is no more than three shillings and fivepence sterling per head, per annum, per man, woman and child, or threepence two-fifths per head per month. Now here is a clear, positive fact, that cannot be contradicted, and which proves that the difficulty cannot be in the weight of the tax, for in itself it is a trifle, and far from being adequate to our quota of the expense of the war. The quit-rents of one penny sterling per acre only one half of the state, come to upwards of fifty thousand pounds, which is almost as much as all the taxes of the present year, and as those quit-rents make no part of the taxes then paid, and are now discontinued, the quantity of money drawn for public service this year, exclusive of the militia fines, which I shall take notice of in the process of this work, is less than what was paid and payable in any year pre- ceding the revolution, and since the last war ; what I mean is, that the quit-rents and taxes taken together came to a larger sum then, than the present taxes without the quit-rents do now. My intention by these arguments and calculations is to place the difficulty to the right cause, and show that it does not pro- ceed from the weight or worth of the tax, but from the scarcity of the medium in which it is paid; and to illustrate this point still further, I shall now show, that if the tax of twenty mil. 12 178 THE CRISia lions of dollars was of four times the real value it now is, or nearly so, which would be about two hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling, and would be our full quota, this sum would have been raised with more ease, and have been less felt, than the present sum of only sixty-four thousand two hundred and eighty pounds. The convenience or inconvenience of p a yi n g a tax i n money arises from the quantity of money that can be spared out of trade. "When the emissions stopped, the continent was left in possession of two hundred millions of dollars, perhaps as equall v dispersed as it was possible for trade to do it. And as no more was to be issued, the rise or fall of prices could neither increase nor diminish the quantity. It therefore remained the same through all the fluctuations of trade and exchange. Now had the exchange stood at twenty for one, which wan the rate congress calculated upon when they arranged the quota of the several states, the latter end of last year, trade would have been carried on for nearly four times less money than it is now, and consequently the twenty millions would have been spared with much greater ease, and when collected would have been of almost four times the value than they now are. And on the other hand, was the depreciation to be ninety or one hundred for one, the quantity required for trade would be more than at sixty or seventy for one, and though the value of them would be less, the difficulty of sparing the money out of trade would be greater. And on these facts and arguments I rest the matter, to prove that it is not the want of property, but the scarcity of the medium by which the proportion of property for taxation is to be measured out, that makes the embarrass- ment which we lie under. There is not money enough, and, what is equally as true, the people will not let there be money enough. While I am on the subject of the currency, I shall offer one remark which will appear true to everybody, and can be ac- counted for by nobody, which is, that the better the times were, the worse the money grew; and the worse the times were, the better the money stood. It never depreciated by any advantage obtained by the enemy. The trouble of 1776, and the loss of Philadelphia in 1777, made no sensible impression on it, and every one knows that the surrender of Charleston did not pro- duce the least alteration in the rate of exchange, which, for THE CRISIS. 179 long before, and for more than three months after, stood at sixty for one. It seems as if the certainty of its being our own, made us careless of its value, and that the most distant thoughts of losing it made us Hug it the closer, like something we were loth to part with ; or that we depreciate it for our pastime, which, when called to seriousness by the enemy, we leave off to renew again at our leisure. In short, our good luck seems to break us, and our bad makes us whole. Passing on from this digression, I shall now endeavor to bring into one view the several parts which I have already stated, and form thereon some propositions, and conclude. I have placed before the reader, the average tax per head, paid by the people of England : which is forty shillings sterling. And I have shown the rate on an average per head, which will defray all the expenses of the war to us, and support the several governments without running the country into debt, which is thirteen shillings and fourpence. I have shown what the peace establishment may be conducted forj viz., an eighth part of what it would be, if under the government of Britain. And I have likewise shown what the average per head of the present taxes are, namely, three shillings and fivepence sterling, or threepence two-fifths per month ; and that their whole yearly value, in sterling, is only sixty-four thousand two hundred and eighty pounds. Whereas our quota, to keep the payments equal with the expenses, is two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. Consequently there is a deficiency of one hundred and eighty-five thousand, seven hundred and twenty pounds, and the same proportion of defect, according to the several quotas, happens in every other state. And this defect is the cause why the army has has been so indifferently fed, clothed and paid. It is the cause, likewise, of the nerveless state of the campaign, and the insecurity of the country. Now, if a tax equal to thirteen and fourpence per head, will remove all these difficulties, and make the people secure in their homes, leave them to follow the business of their stores and farms unmolested, and not only keep out, but drive out the enemy from the country ; and if the neglect of raising this sum will let them in, and produce the evils which might be prevented on which side, I ask, does the wisdom, interest and policy lie ? Or, rather, would it not be an insult to reason, to put the ques- tion 1 The sum when proportioned out according to the several ISO THE CRISIS, abilities of the people, can hurt nd one, but an inroad from the enemy ruins hundreds of families. Look at the destruction done in this city. The many houses totally destroyed, and others damaged ; tfhe waste of fences in the country around it, besides the plunder of furniture, forage, and provisions. I do not suppose that half a million sterling would reinstate the sufferers; and does this, I ask, bear any proportion to the expense that would make us secure. The damage, on an average, is at least ten pounds sterling per head, which is as much as thirteen shillings and four pence per heap comes to for fifteen years. The same has happened on the frontiers, and in the Jerseys, New York, and other places where the enemy has been Carolina and Georgia are likewise suffer- ing the same fate. That the people generally do not understand the insufficiency of the taxes to carry on the war, is evident, not only from com- mon observation, but from the construction of several petitions, which were presented to the assembly of this state against the recommendations of congress of the 1 8th of March last, for tak- ing up and funding the present currency at forty for one, and issuing new money in its stead. The prayer of the petition was, that the currency might be appreciated by taxes (meaning the present taxes) and that part of the taxes be applied to t!te sup- port of the army, if the army could not be otherwise supported. Now it could not have been possible for such a petition to have been presented, had the petitioners known, that so far from part of the taxes being sufficient for the army, the whole of them falls three-fourths short of the year's expenses. Before I proceed to propose methods by which a sufficiency of money may be raised, I shall take a short view of the general state of the country. Notwithstanding the weight of the war, the ravages of the enemy, and the obstructions she has thrown in the way of trade and commerce, so soon does a young country outgrow misfor- tune, that America has already surmounted many that heavily oppressed her. For the first year or two of t!he war, we were shut up within our ports, scarce venturing to look towards the ocean. Now our rivers are beautified with large and valuable vessels, our stores filled with merchandise, and the produce of the country has a ready market, and an advantageous price. Gold and silver, that for a while seemed to have retreated again withio-the bowels of the earth, have once more risen into cirou- THE CRISIS. 181 lation, and every day adds new strength to trade, commerce and agriculture. In a pamphlet, written by Sir John Dalrymple, and dispersed in America in the year 1775, he asserted, that, two twenty-gun ships, nay, says he, tenders of those ships, station- ed between Albemarle sound and Chesapeake bay, would shut up the trade of America for 600 miles. How little did Sir John Dalrymple know of the abilities of America. While under the government of Britain, the trade of this country was loaded with restrictions. It was only a few foreign ports which we were allowed to sail to. Now it is other- wise ; and allowing that the quantity of trade is but half what it was before the war, the case must show the vast advantage of an open trade, because the present quantity under her re- strictions could not support itself ; from which I infer, that if half the quantity without the restrictions can bear itself up nearly, if not quite, as well as the whole when subject to them, how prosperous must the condition of America be when the whole shall return open with all the world. By the trade I do not mean the employment of a merchant only, but the whole interest and business of the country taken collectively. It is not so much my intention, by this publication, to pro- pose particular plans for raising money, as it is to show the necessity and the advantages to be derived from it. My prin- cipal design is to form the disposition of the people to the measures which I am fully persuaded it is their interest and duty to adopt, and which needs no other force to accomplish them than the force of being felt. But as every hint may be useful, I shall throw out a sketch, and leave others to make such improvements upon it as to the A may appear reasonable. The annual sum wanted is two millions, and the average rate in which it falls, is thirteen shillings and fourpence per head. Suppose, then, that we raise half the sum and sixty thousand pounds over. The average rate thereof will be seven shillings per head. In this case we shall have half the supply that we want, and an annual fund of sixty thousand pounds whereon to borrow the other million ; because sixty thousand pounds is the interest of a million at six per cent : and if at the end of another year we should be obliged, by the continuance of the war, to borrow another million, the taxes will be increased to seven shillings and sixpence; and thus for every million borrowed, an addi- tional tax, equal to sixpence per head, must be levied. 182 THE CRISIS. The sum to be raised next year will be one million and sixty thousand pounds; one half of which I would propose should be raised by duties on imported goods, and prize goods, and the other half by a tax on landed property and houses, or such other means as each state may devise. But as the duties on imports and prize goods must be the same in all the states, therefore, the rate per cent., or what other form the duty shall be said, must be ascertained and regulated by congress, and ingrafted in that form into the law of each state; and the monies arising therefrom carried into the treasury of each state. The duties to be paid in gold or silver. There ai-e many reasons why a duty on imports is the most convenient duty or tax that can be collected ; one of which is, because the whole is payable in a few places in a country, and it likewise operates with the greatest ease and equality, because as every one pays in proportion to what he consumes, so people in general consume in proportion to what they can afford, and therefore the tax is regulated by the abilities which every man supposes himself to have, or in other words, every man becomes his own assessor, and pays by a little at a time, when it suits him to buy. Besides it is a tax which people may pay or let alone by not consuming the articles ; and though the alternative may have no influence on their conduct, the power of choosing is an agreeable thing to the mind. For my own part, it would be a satisfaction to me, was there a duty on all sorts of liquors during the war, as in my idea of things it would be an addition to the pleasures of society, to know, that when the health of the army goes round, a few drops from every glass become theirs. How often have I heard an emphatical wish, almost accompanied with a tear, "Oh, that our poor fellows in the field Jiad some of this /" Why, then, need we suffer under a fruit- less sympathy when there is a way to enjoy both the wish and the entertainment at once ? But the great national policy of putting a duty upon imports is, that 'it either keeps the foreign trade in our hands, or draws something for the defence of the country from every foreigner who participates it with us. Thus much for the first half of the taxes, and as each state will best devise means to raise the other half, I shall confine my remarks to the resources of this state. The quota, then, of this state, of one million and sixty thou- THE CWSIS. 183 sand pounds, will be one hundred and thirty-three thousand two hundred and fifty pounds, the half of which is sixty-six thou- sand six hundred and twenty -five pounds; and supposing one- fourth part of Pennsylvania inhabited, then a tax of one bushel of wheat on every twenty acres of land, one with another, would produce the sum, and all the present taxes to cease. Whereas, the tithes of the bishops and clergy in England, exclusive of the taxes, are upwards of half a bushel of wheat 01 ovp.ry single acre of land, good and bad, throughout the nation. AH' the former part of this paper, I mentioned the militia fines, but reserved speaking to the matter, which I shall now do. The ground I shall now put it upon is, that two millions sterling a year will support a sufficient army, and all the expenses of war and government, without having recourse to the inconvenient method of continually calling men from their employments, which, of all others, is the most expensive and the least substantial. I consider the revenues created by taxes as the first and principal thing, and fines only as secondary and accidental things. It was not the intention of the militia law to apply the fines to any thing else but the support of the militia, neither do they produce any revenue to the state, yet these fines amount to more than all the taxes : for taking the muster-roll to be sixty thousand men, the fine on forty thousand who may not attend, will be sixty thousand pounds sterling, and those who muster, will give up a portion of time equal to half that sum, und if the eight classes should be called within the year, and one-third turn out, the fine on the remaining forty thousand would amount to seventy-two millions of dollars, beside the fifteen shillings on every hundred pounds of property, and the charge of seven and a half per cent, for collecting, in certain instances, which, on the whole, would be upwards of two hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling. Now if those very fines disable the country from raising a sufficient revenue without producing an equivalent advantage, would it not be for the ease and interest of all parties to in- crease the revenue, in the manner I have proposed, or any better, if a better can be devised, and cease the operation of the fines 1 I would still keep the militia as an organized body of men, and should there be a real necessity to call them forth, pay them out of the proper revenues of the state, and increase the taxes a third or fourth per cent, on those who do not attend. 184 THE CRI8IS My limits will not allow me to go further into this matter, which I shall therefore close with this remark ; that tines are, of all modes of revenue, the most unsuited to the minds of a free country. When a man pays a tax, he knows that the public necessity require it, and therefore feels a pride in dis- charging his duty; but a fine seems an atonement for neglect of duty, and of consequence is paid with discredit, and fre- quently levied with severity. I have now only one subject more to speak of, with which I shall conclude, which is, the resolve of congress of the 18th of March last, for taking up and funding the present currency at forty for one, and issuing new money in its stead. Everyone knows that I am not the flatterer of congress, but in this instance they are right; and if that measure is supported, the currency will acquire a value, which, without it, it will not. But this is not all : it will give relief to the finances until such time as they can be properly arranged, and savethe country from being immediately double taxed under the present mode. In short, support that measure, and it will support you. I have now waded through a tedious course of difficult busi- ness, and over an untrodden path. The subject, on every point in which it could be viewed, was entangled with perplexities, and enveloped in obscurity, yet such are the resources of Am- erica, that she wants nothing but system to ensure success. Oct. 6, 1780. NUMBER XL ON THE KING OF ENGLAND'S SPLEC3. OP all the innocent passions which actuate the human mind, there is none more universally prevalent than curiosity. It reaches all mankind, and in matters which concern us, or con- cern us not, it alike provokes in us a desire to know them. Although the situation of America, superior to every effort to enslave her, and daily rising to importance and opulence, hath placed her above the region of anxiety, it has still left her within the circle of curiosity ; and her fancy to see the speech of a man who had proudly threatened to bring her to his feet, was visibly marked with thrt tranquil confidence which caved no- THE CRISIS. 185 thing a'uout its contents. It was inquired after with a smile, read with a laugh, and dismissed wuh disdain. But, as justice is due, even to an enemy, it is right to say, that the speech is as well managed as the embarrassed condition of their affairs could well admit of; and though hardly a line of it is true, except the mournful story of Cornwallis, it may serve to amuse the deluded commons and people of England, for whom it was calculated. "The war," says the speech, "is still unhappily prolonged by chat restless ambition which first excited our enemies to com- mence it, and which still continues to disappoint my earnest wishes and diligent exertions to restore the public tranquility." How easy it is to abuse truth and language, when men, by habitual wickedness, have learned to set justice at defiance. That the very man who begun the war, who with the most sullen insolence refused to answer, and even to hear the humblest of all petitions, who hath encouraged his officers and his army in the most savage cruelties, and the most scandalous plunderings, who hath stirred up the Indians on one side, and the negroes on the other, and invoked every aid of hell in his behalf, should now, with an affected air of pity, turn the tables from himself, and charge to another the wickedness that is his own, can only be equalled by the baseness of the heart that spoke it. To be nobly wrong is more manly than to be meanly right, is an expression I once used on a former occasion, and it is equally applicable now. We feel something like respect for consistency even in error. We lament the virtue that is debauched into a vice, but the vice that effects a virtue becomes the more detest- able : and amongst the various assumptions of character which hypocrisy has taught, and men have practised, there is none that rises a higher relish of disgust, than to see disappointed inveteracy twisting itself, by the most visible falsehoods, into an appearance of piety which it has no pretensions to. "But I should not," continues the speech, "answer the trust committed to the sovereign of a free people, nor make a suit- able return to my subjects for their constant, zealous, and affec- tionate attachment to my person, family and government, if I consented to sacrifice, either to my own desire of peace, or to their temporary ease and relief, those essential rights and per- mament interests, upon the maintenance and preservation of which, the fnture strength and security of thig country must principally depend." 186 THE CRISIS. That the man whose ignorance and obstinacy first involved and still continues the nation in the most hopeless and expen- sive of all wars, should now meanly flatter them with the name of a free people, and make a merit of his crime, under the dis- guise of their essential rights and permanent interests, is some- thing which disgraces even the character of perverseness. Is he afraid they will send him to Hanover, or what does he fear ? Why is the sycophant thus added to the hypocrite, and the man who pretends to govern, sunk into the humble and submissive memorialist 1 What those essential rights and permanent interests are, on which the future strength and security of England must princi- pally depend, are not so much as alluded to. They are words which impress nothing but the ear, and are calculated only for the sound. But if they have any reference to America, then do they amount to the disgraceful confession, that England, who once assumed to be her protectress, has now become her dependent. The British king and ministry are constantly holding up the vast importance which America is of to England, in order to allure the nation to carry on the war: now, whatever ground there is for this idea, it ought to have operated as a reason for not beginning it: and, therefore, they support their present measures to their own disgrace, because the arguments which they now use, are a direct reflection on their former policy. "The favorable appearance of affairs," continues the speech, "in the East Indies, and the safe arrival of the numerous com mercial fleets of my kingdom, must have given you satisfaction.' That things are not quite so bad everywhere as in America may be some cause of consolation, but can be none for triumph. One broken leg is better than two, but still it is not a source of joy: and let the appearance of affairs in the East Indies bo ever so favourable, they are nevertheless worse than at first, without a prospect of their ever being better. But the mourn- ful story of C ^rnwallis was yet to be told, and it was necessary to give it tlv softest introduction possible. "But in the course of this year," continues the speech, "my assiduous endeavors to guard the extensive dominions of my crown have not been attended with success equal to the justice and uprightness of my views." What justice and uprightness there was in beginning a war with America, the world will judge of, and the unequalled barbarity with which it ha been THE CRISia 1S7 conducted, is not to be worn from the memory by the oant of snivelling hypocrisy. "And it is with great concern that I inform you that the events of war have been very unfortunate to my arms in Vir- ginia, having ended in the loss of my forces in that province." And our concern is that they are not all served in the same manner. "No endeavors have been wanting on my part," says the speech, "to extinguish that spirit of rebellion which our ene- mies have found means to foment and maintain in the colonies : and to restore to my deluded subjects in America that happy and prosperous condition which they formerly derived from a due obedience to the laws." The expression of deluded subjects is become so hacknied and contemptible, and the more so when we see them making prisoners of whole armies at a time, that the pride of not being laughed at would induce a man of common sense to leave it off. But the most offensive falsehood in the paragraph, is the attributing the prosperity of America to a wrong cause. It was the unre- mitted industry of the settlers and their descendants, the hard labor and toil of persevering fortitude, that were the true causes of the prosperity of America. The former tyranny of England served to people it, and the virtue of the adventurers to im- prove it. Ask the man, who, with his axe hath clear- 1 a way in the wilderness, and who possesses an estate, ^ f j.de him rich, and he will tell you the labor of his hanus, the sweat of his brow, and the blessing of heaven. Let Britain but leave America to herself and she asks no more. She has risen into greatness without the knowledge and against the will of Eng- land, and has a right to the unmolested enjoyment of her own created wealth. " I will order," says the speech, " the estimates of the ensuing year to be laid before you. I rely on your wisdom and public spirit for such supplies as the circumstances of our affairs shall be found to require. Among the many ill consequences which attended the continuation of the present war, I most sincerely regret the additional burdens which k must unavoidably bring upon my faithful subjects." It is strange that a nation must run through such a labyrinth of trouble, and expend such a mass of wealth to gain the wisdom which an hour's reflection might have taught. The final superiority of America over every attempt that an island 188 THE CRISIS. might make to conquer her, was as naturally marked in the constitution of things, as the future ability of a giant over a dwarf is delineated in his features while an infant. How far providence, to accomplish purposes which no human wisdom could foresee, permitted such extraordinary errors, is still a secret in the womb of time, and must remain so tili futurity shall give it birth. "In the prosecution of this great and important contest," says the speech, " in which we are engaged, I retain a firm con- fidence in the protection of divine providence and a perfect con- viction in the justice of my cause, and I have no doubt, but, that by the concurrence and support of my parliament, by the valor of my fleets and armies, and by a vigorous, animated, and united exertion of the faculties and resources of my people, I shall be enabled to restore the blessings of a safe and honorable peace to all my dominions." The king of England is one of the readiest believers in the world. In the beginning of the contest he passed an act to put America out of the protection of the crown of England, and though providence, for seven years together, hath put him out of her protection, still the man has no doubt. Like Pharaoh on the edge of the Red sea, he sees not the plunge he is making, and precipitately drives across the flood that is closing over his head. I think it a reasonable supposition, that this part of the speech was composed before the arrival of the news of the capture of Cornwallis : for it certainly has no relation to their condition at the time it was spoken. But, be this at it may, it is nothing to us. Our line is fixed. Our lot is cast; and America, the child of fate, is arriving at maturity. We have nothing to do but by a spirited and quick exertion, to stand prepared for war or peace. Too great to yield, and too nobk to insult; superior to misfortune, and generous in success, let us untaintedly preserve the character which we have gained, and show the future ages an example of unequalled magnan- imity. There is something in the cause and consequence ol America that has drawn on her the attention of all mankind. The world has seen her brave. Her love of liberty ; her ardor in supporting it; the justice of her claims, and the constancy of her fortitude has won her the esteem of Europe, and attached to her interest the first power in that country. Her situation now is such, that to whatever point, past, THE CRISIS. 1S9 present or to come, she casts her eyes, new matter rises to con- vince her that she is right. In her conduct towards her enemy, no reproachful sentiment lurks in secret. No sense of injustice is left upon the mind. Untainted with ambition, and a stranger to revenge, her progress hath been marked by providence, and she, in every stage of the conflict, has blest her with success. But let not America wrap herself up in delusive hope and suppose the business done. The least remissness in preparation, the least relaxation in execution, will only serve to prolong the war, and increase expenses. If our enemies can draw consola- tion from misfortune, and exert themselves upon despair, how much more ought we, who are to win a continent by the con- quest, and have already an earnest of success 1 Having, in the preceding part, made my remarks on the several matters which the speech contains, I shall now make my remarks on what it does not contain. There is not a syllable in it respecting alliances. Either the injustice of Britain is too glarhig, or her condition too desper- ate, or both, for any neighboring power to come to her support. In the beginning of the conquest, when she had only America to contend with, she hired assistance from Hesse, and other smaller states of Germany, and for nearly three years did America, young, raw, undisciplined and unprovided, stand against the power of Britain, aided by twenty thousand foreign troops, and made a complete conquest of one entire army. The remembrance of those things ought to inspire us with confidence and greatness of mind, and carry us through every remaining difficulty with content and cheerfulness. What are the little sufferings of the present day, compared with the hardships that are past? There was a time when we had neither house nor home in safety; when every hour was the hour of alarm and danger; when the mind, tortured with anxiety, knew no re- pose, and everything but hope and fortitude was bidding us farewell. It is of use to look back upon these things; to call to mind the times of trouble and the scenes of complicated anguish that are past and gone. Then every expense was cheap, compared with the dread of conquest and the misery of submission. \Ve did not stand debating upon trifles, or contending about the necessary and unad voidable charges of defence. Everyone bore his lot of suffering, and looked forward to happier days, and acenea of rest. 190 THE CRISIS. Perhaps one of the greatest dangers which any country can be exposed to, arises from a kind of trifling which sometimes steals upon the mind, when it supposes the danger past; and this unsafe situation marks at this time the peculiar crisis of America. What would she once have given to have known that her condition at this day should be what it is now 1 And yet we do not seem to place a proper value upon it, nor vigor- ously pursue the necessary measures to secure it. We know that we cannot be defended, nor yet defend ourselves, without trouble and expense. We have no right to expect it; neither ought we to look for it. We are a people, who, in our situation, differ from all the world. We form one common floor of public good, and, whatever is our charge, it is paid for our own interest and upon our own aceount. Misfortune and experience have now taught us system and method; and the arrangements for carrying on the war are reduced to rule and order. The quotas of the several states are ascertained, and I intend in a future publication to show what they are, and the necessity as well as the advantages of vigor- ously providing them. In the meantime, I shall conclude this paper with an instance of British clemency, from Smollett's " History of England," vol. xi. p. 239, printed in London. It will serve to show how dis- mal the situation of a conquered people is, and that the only security is an effectual defence. We all know that the Stuart family and the house of Hanover opposed each other for the crown of England. The Stuart family stood first in the line of succession, but the other was the most successful. In July, 1745, Charles, the son of the exiled king, landed in Scotland, collected a small force, at no time exaeeding five or six thousand men, and made some attempts to re-establish his claim. The late duke of Cumberland, uncle to the present king of England, was sent against him, and on the 16th of April, following, Charles was totally defeated at Culloden, in Scotland. Success and power are the only situations in which clemency can be shown, and those who are cruel because they are victori- ous, can with the same facility act any other degenerate char- acter. " Immediately after the decisive action at Culloden,the duke of Cumberland took possession of Inverness; where six and thirty deserters, convicted by a court martial, were ordered to THE CRISia 191 be executed: then he detached several parties to ravage the country. One of these apprehended the Lady Mackintosh, who was sent prisoner to Inverness, plundered her house, and drove away her cattle, though her husband was actually in the service of the government. The castle of Lord Lovat was destroyed. The French prisoners were sent to Carlisle and Penrith : Kil- marnock, Balmerino, Cromartie, and his son, the lord Macleod, were conveyed by sea to London ; and those of an inferior rank were confined in different prisons. The marquis of Tullibar- dine, together with a brother of the earl of Dunmore and Mur- ray, the pretender's secretary, were seized and transported to the Tower of London, to which the earl of Traquaire had been committed on suspicion; and the eldest son of lord Lovat was imprisoned in the castle of Edinburgh. In a word, all the jails in Great Britain, from the capital, northwards, were filled with those unfortunate captives; and great numbers of them were crowded together in the holds of ships, where they perished in the most deplorable manner, for want of air and exercise. Some rebel chiefs escaped in two French frigates that arrived on the coast of Lochaber about the end of April, and engaged three vessels belonging to his Britannic majesty, which they obliged to retire. Others embarked on board a ship on the coast of Buchan, and were conveyed to Norway, from whence they travelled to Sweden. In the month of May, the duke of Cumberland advanced with the army into the Highlands, as far as Fort Augustus, where he encamped; and sent off detachments on all hands, to hunt down the fugitives, and lay waste the country with fire and sword. The castles of Glengarry and Lochiel were plundered and burned; every house, hut or habi- tation, met with the same fate, without distinction ; and all the cattle and provisions were carried off; the men were either shot upon the mountains, like wild beasts, or put to death in cold blood, without form of trial; the women, after having seen their husbands and fathers murdered, were subjected to brutal viola- tion, and then turned out naked, with their children to starve on the barren heaths. One whole family was enclosed in a barn, and consumed to ashes. Those ministers of vengeance were so alert in the execution of their office, that in a few days there was neither house, cottage, man, nor beast, to be seen within the compass of fifty miles ; all was ruin, silence, and desolation." I have here presented the reader with one of the most shocking instances of cruelty ever practised, and I leave it to 192 THE CRISIS. rest on his mind, that he may be fully impressed with a sense of the destruction he has escaped, in case Britain had conquered America : and likewise, that he may see and feel the necessity, as well for his own personal safety, as for the honor, the interest, and happiness of the whole community, to omit 01 delay no one preparation necessary to secure the ground which we so happily stand upon. TO THE PEOPLE OF AMERICA. On the expenses, arrangements and disbursements for carrying on tht war, and finishing it with honor and advantage. WHEN any necessity or occasion has pointed out the conveni- ence of addressing the public, I have never made it a consider- ation whether the subject was popular or unpopular, but whether it was right or wrong; for that which is right will be- come popular, and that which is wrong, though by mistake it may obtain the cry or fashion of the day, will soon lose the power of delusion, and sink into disesteem. A remarkable instance of this happened in the case of Silas Deane; and I mention this circumstance with the greater ease, because the poison of his hypocrisy spread over the whole country, and every man, almost without exception, thought me wrong in opposing him. The best friends I then had, except Mr. Laurens, stood at a distance, and this tribute, which is due to his constancy, I pay to him with respect, and that t.lu- readier, because he is not here to hear it. If it reaches him in his imprisonment, it will afford him an agreeable reflection. "As he rose like a rocket, he would fall like a stick," is a metaphor which I applied to Mr. Deane, in the first piece which I published respecting him, and he has exactly fulfilled tho description. The credit he so unjustly obtained from the public, he lost in almost as short a time. The delusion perished as it fell, and he soon saw himself stripped of popular support. His more intimate acquaintances began to doubt, and to desert him long before he left America, and at his departure, he saw himself the object of general suspicion. When he arrived in France, he endeavored to effect by treason what he had failed to accomplish by fraud. His plans, schemes and projects, together with his expectation of being sent to Holland to negotiate a loan of money, had all miscarried. He then begflv traducing and accusing America of every crime which could THE CRISIS. injure her reputation. " That she was a ruined country ; that she only meant to make a tool of France, to get what money she could out of her, and then to leave her, and accommodate with Britain." Of all which and much more, Colonel Laurens and myself when in France, informed Dr. Franklin, who had not before heard of it. And to complete the character of a traitor, he has, by letters to this country since, some of which, in his own handwriting, are now in the possession of congress, used every expression and argument in his power, to injure the reputation of France, and to advise America to renounce her alliance, and surrender up her independence.* Thus in France he abuses America, and in his letters to America he abuses France; and is endeavoring to create disunion between the two countries, by the same arts of double-dealing by which he caused dissentions among the commissioners in Paris, and dis- tractions in America. But his life has been fraud, and his character is that of a plodding, plotting, cringing mercenary, capable of any disguise that suited his purpose. His final detection has very happily cleared up those mistakes, and removed that uneasiness, which his unprincipled conduct occasioned. Everyone now sees him in the same light; for towards friends or enemies he acted with the same deception and injustice, and his name, like that of Arnold, ought now to be forgotten among us. As this is the first time that I have mentioned him since my return from France, it is my intention that it shall be the last. From this digression, which for several reasons I thought necessary to give, I now proceed to the purport of my address. I consider the war of America against Britain as the coun- try's war, the public's war, or the war of the people in their own behalf, for the security of their natural rights, and the protection of their own property. It is not the war of congress, the war of the assemblies, or the war of the government in any line whatever. The country first, by a mutual compact, resolved to defend their rights and maintain their independence, at the hazard of their lives and fortunes, they elected their Mr. William Marshall, of this city, formerly a pilot, who had been taken at sea and carried to England, and got from thence to France, brought over letters from Mr. Deane to America, one of which was directed to "Robert Morris, Esq." Mr. Morris sent it unopened to congress, and advised Mr. Marshall to deliver the others there, which he did. The letters were of the same purport with those which have been already published uader the signature of S. Deane, to which they had frequent reference. 13 194 THE CRISIS. representatives, by whom they appointed their members of con- gress, and said, act you for us, and we will support you. This is the true ground and principle of the war on the part of America, and, cpnsequently, there remains nothing to do, but for everyone to fulfil his obligation. It was next to impossible that a new country, engaged in a new undertaking, could set off systematically right at first. She saw not the extent of the struggle that she was envoi ved in, neither could she avoid the beginning. She supposed every step that she took, and every resolution which she formed, would bring her enemy to reason and close the contest Those failing, she was forced into new measures: and these, like the forme/, being fitted to her expectations, and failing in their turn, left her continually unprovided, and without system. The enemy, likewise, was induced to prosecute the war, from the temporary expedients we adopted for carrying it on. We are continually expecting to see their credit exhausted, and they were looking to see our currency fail; and thus, between their watching us, and we them, the hopes of both have been deceived, and the childishness of the expectation has served to increase the ex- pense. Yet, who through this wilderness of error, has been to blame ? Where is the man who can say the fault, in part, has not been his? They were the natural, unavoidable errors of the day. They were the errors of a whole country, which nothing but experience could detect and time remove. Neither could the circumstances of America admit of system, till either the paper currency was fixed or laid aside. No calculation of a finance could be made on medium failing without reason, and fluctua- ting without rule. But there is one error which might have been prevented and was not; and as it is not my custom to flatter, but to serve man- kind, I will speak it freely. It certainly was the duty of every assembly on the continent to have known, at all times, what was the condition of its treasury, and to have ascertained at every period of depreciation, how much the real worth of the taxes fell short of their nominal value. This knowledge, which might have been easily gained, in the time of it, would have enabled them to have kept their constituents well informed, and this is one of the greatest duties of representation. They ought to have studied and calculated the expenses of the war, the quota of each state, and the consequent proportion that THE CRISIS. 195 would fall on each man's property for his defence; and this must easily have shown to them, that a tax of one hundred pounds could not be paid by a bushel of apples or an hundred of flour, which was often the case two or three years ago. But instead of this, which would have been plain and upright deal- ing, the little line of temporary popularity, the feather of an hour's duration, was too much pursued; and in this. involved con- dition of things, every state, for the want of a little thinking, or a little information, supposed that it supported the whole expenses of the war, when in fact it fell, by the time the tax was levied and collected, above three-fourths short of its own quota. Impressed with a sense of the danger to which the country was exposed by this lax method of doing business, and the pre- vailing errors of the day, I published, last October was a twelve- month, the Crisis No. X., on the revenues of America, and the yearly expense of carrying on the war. My estimation of the latter, together with the civil list of congress and the civil list of the several states, was two million pounds sterling, which is very nearly nine millions of dollars. Since that time, congress have gone into a calculation, and have estimated the expenses of the war department and the civil list of congress (exclusive of the civil list of the several governments) at eight millions of dollars; and as the remaining million will be fully sufficient for the civil list of the several states, the two calculations are exceedingly near each other. The sum of eight millions of dollars they have called upon the states to furnish, and their quotas are as follows, which I shall perface with the resolution itself. "By the United States in congress assembled. "October SO, 1781. "Resolved, That the respective states he called upon to fur' .sh the treasury of the United States with their quotas of eight millions of dollars, for the war department and civil list for the ensuing year, to be paid quarterly, in equal proportions, the first payment to be made on the first day of April next. "Resolved, That a committee consisting of a member from each state, be appointed to apportion to the several states the quota of the above sum. " November 2nd. The committee appointed to ascertain the proportions of the several states of the moneys to be raised for 196 THE CRISIS. the expenses of the ensuing year, report the following reso- lutions: " That the sum of eight millions of dollars, as required to be raised by the resolutions of the 30th of October last, be paid by the states in the following proportion: New Hampshire $373,598 Massachusetts I,:>ii7,"'96 Rhode Island L'lri,4 Connecticut 747,1% New York 3"",ofl8 New Jersey 485,<;79 Pennsylvania 1,120,794 Delaware 1 12, 085 Maryland {);W,U96 Virginia 1,307,594 North Carolina t>22,t>77 South Carolina 373,598 Georgia 'J4.905 Total 38,000,000 "Resolved, That it be recommended to the several states, to pay taxes for raising their quotas of money for the United States, separate from those laid for their own particular use." On these resolutions I shall offer several remarks. 1st, On the sum itself, and the ability of the country. 2nd, On the several quotas, and the nature of a union. And, 3rd, On the manner of collection and expenditure. 1st, On the sum itself and the ability of the country. As I know my own calculation is as low as possible, and as the sum called for by congress, according to their calculation, agrees very nearly therewith, I am sensible it cannot possibly be lower. Neither can it be done for that, unless there is ready money to go to market with; and even in that case, it is only by the utmost management and economy that it can be made to do. By the accounts which were laid before the British parlia- ment last spring, it appeared that the charge of only subsisting, that is, feeding their army in America, cost annually four million pounds sterling, which is very nearly eighteen millions of dollars. Now if for eight millions, we can feed, clothe, arm, provide for, and pay an army sufficient for our defence, the very comparison shows that the money must be well laid out It may be of some use, either in debate or conversation, to THE CPJSIS. 197 attend to the progress of the expens.es of an army, because it will enable us to see on what part any deficiency will fall. The first thing is, to feed them and provide for the sick. Second, to clothe them. Third, to arm and furnish them. Fourth, to provide means for removing them from place to place. And, Fifth, to pay them. The first and second are absolutely necessary to them as men. The third and fourth are equally as necessary to them as an army, And the fifth is their just due. Now if the sum which shall be raised should fall short, either by the several acts of the states for raising it, or by the manner of collecting it, the deficiency will fall on the fifth head, the soldiers' pay, which would be defrauding them, and eternally disgracing ourselves. It would be a blot on the councils, the country, and the revo- lution of America, and a man would hereafter be ashamed to own that he had any hand in it. But if the deficiency should be still shorter, it would next fall on the fourth head, the means of removing the army from place to place; and, in this case, the army must either stand still where it can be of no use, or seize on horses, carts, wagons, or any means of transportation which it can lay hold of; and in this instance the country suffers. In short, every attempt to do a thing for less than it can be done for, is sure to become at last both a loss and a dishonor. But the country cannot bear it, say some. This has been the most expensive doctrine that ever was held out, and cost America millions of money for nothing. Can the country bear to be overrun, ravaged, and ruined by an enemy 1 ? This will immediately follow where defence is wanting, and defence will ever be wanting where sufficient revenues are not provided. But this is only one part of the folly. The second is, that when the danger comes, invited in part by our not preparing against it, we have been obliged, in a number of instances, to expend double the sums to do that which at first might have been done for half the money. But this is not all. A third mis- chief has been, that grain of all sorts, flour, beef, fodder, horses, carts, wagons, or whatever was absolutely or imme- diately wanted, have been taken without pay. Now, I ask, why was all this done, but from that extremely weak and ex- 198 . THE CRISIS. pensive doctrine, tliat tJte country could not bear it ? That is, that she could not bear, in the first instance, that which would have saved her twice as much at last ; or, in proverbial lan- guage, that she could not bear to pay a penny to save a pound ; the conssquence of which has been, that she has paid a pound for a penny. Why are there so many unpaid certificates in almost every man's hands, but from the parsimony of not providing sufficient revenues ? Besides, the doctrine contra- dicts itself ; because, if the whole country cannot bear it, how is it possible that a pai't should ? And yet this has been the case: for those things have been had; and they must be had; but the misfortune is, that they have been obtained in a very unequal manner, and upon expensive credit, whereas, with ready money, they might have been purchased for half the price, and nobody distressed. But there is another thought which ought to strike us, which is, how is the army to bear the want of food, clothing and other necessaries? The man who is at home can turn himself a thousand ways, and find as many means of ease, convenience or relief : but a soldier's life admits of none of those : their wants cannot be supplied from themselves : for an army, though it is the defence of a state, is at the same time the child of a country, or must be provided for in everything. And lastly, The doctrine is false. There are not three mil- lions of people in any part of the universe, who live so well, or have such a fund of ability as in America. The income of a common laborer, who is industrious, is equal to that of the generality of tradesmen in England. In the mercantile line, I have not heard of one who could be said to be a bankrupt since the war began, and in England they have been without num- ber. In America almost every farmer lives on his own lands, and in England not one in a hundred does. In short, it seems as if the poverty of that country had made them furious, and they were determined to risk all to recover all. Yet, notwithstanding those advantages on the part of America, true it is, that had it not been for the operation of taxes for our necessary defence, we had sunk into a state of sloth and poverty : for there was more wealth lost by neglect- ing to till the earth in the years 1776, '77, '78, than the quota of taxes amounts to. That which is lost by neglect of this kind, is lost forever: whereas that which is paid, and continues in the country, returns to us again ; and at the same time th.it THE CRISIS. 199 it provides us with defence, it operates not only as a spur, but as a premium to our industry. I shall now proceed to the second head, viz. on the several quotas, and the nature of a union. There was a time when America had no other bond of union, than that of common interest and affection. The whole coun- try flew to the relief of Boston, and, making her cause their own, participated in her cares and administered to her wants. The fate of war, since that day, has carried the calamity in a ten-fold proportion to the southward; but in the mean time the union has been strengthened by a legal compact of the states, jointly and severally ratified, and that which before was choice, or the duty of affection, is now likewise the duty of legal obligation. The union of America is the foundation-stone of her inde- pendence; the rock on which it is built; and is something so sacred in her constitution, that we ought to watch every word we speak, and every thought we think, that we injure it not, even by mistake. When a multitude, extended, or rather scattered, over a continent in the manner we were, mutually agree to form one common center whereon the whole shall move, to accomplish a particular purpose, all parts must act to- gether and alike, or act not at all, and a stoppage in any one is a stoppage of the whole, at least for a time. Thus the several states have sent representatives to assemble together in congress ; and they have empowered that body, which thus becomes their center, and are no other than them- selves in representation, to conduct and manage the war, while their constituents at home attend to the domestic cares of the country, their internal legislation, their farms, professions or employments: for it is only by reducing complicated things to method and orderly connexion that they can be understood with advantage, or pursued with success. Congress, by virtue of this delegation, estimates the expense, and apportions it out to the several parts of the empire according to their several abil- ities; and here the debate must end, because each state has already had its voice, and the matter has undergone its whole portion of argument, and can no more be altered by any par- ticular state, than a law of any state, after it has passed, can be altered by any individual. For with respect to those things which immediately concerned the union, and for which the union was purposely established, and is intended to secure, each 200 THE CRISIS. state is to the United States what each individual is to the state he lives in. And it is on this grand point, this movement upon one centre, that our existence as a nation, our happiness as a people, and our safety as individuals, depend. It may happen that some state or other may be somewhat over or under rated, but this cannot be much. The experience which has been had upon the matter, has nearly ascertained their several abilities. But even in this case, it can only admit of an appeal to the United States, but cannot authorize any state to make the alteration itself, any more than our internal government can admit an individual to do so in the case of an act of assembly; for if one state can do it, then may another do the same, and the instant this is done the whole is undone. Neither is it supposable that any single state can be a judge of all the comparative reasons which may influence the collec- tive body in arranging the quotas of the continent. The circumstances of the several states are frequently varying, occasioned by the accidents of war and commerce, and it will often fall upon some to help others, rather beyond what their exact proportion at another time might be ; but even this assist- ance is as naturally and politically included in the idea of a union, as that of any particular assigned proportion; because we know not whose turn it may be next to want assistance, for which reason that state is the wisest which sets the best example. Though in matters of bounden duty and reciprocal affection, it is rather a degeneracy from the honesty and ardor of the heart to admit anything selfish to partake in the government of our conduct, yet in cases where our duty, our affections, and our interest all coincide, it may be of some use to observe their union. The United States will become heir to an extensive quantity of vacant land, and their several titles to shares and quotas thereof, will naturally be adjusted according to their relative quotas during the war, exclusive of that inability which may unfortunately arise to any state by the enemy's holding possession of a part; but as this is a cold matter of interest, I pass it by, and proceed to my third head, viz. : ON THE MANNER OF COLLECTION AND EXPENDITURE. IT hath been our error, as well as our misfortune, to blend the affairs of each state, especially in money matters, with those of the United States; whereas, it is our case, conven 1 THE CKISIS. 201 ence ad interest, to keep them separate. The expenses of the United States for carrying on the war, and the expenses of each state for its own domestic government, are distinct things, and to involve them is a source of perplexity and a cloak for fraud. I love method, because I see and am convinced of its beauty and advantage. It is that which makes all business easy and understood, and without which, everything becomes embarrassed and difficult. There are certain powers which the people of each state have delegated to their legislative and executive bodies, and there are other powers which the people of every state have delegated to congress, among which is that of conducting the war, and, consequently, of managing the expenses attending it; for how else can that be managed, which concerns every state, but by a delegation from each ? When a state has furnished its quota, it has an undoubted right to know how it has been applied, and it is as much the duty of congress to inform the state of the one, as it is the duty of the state to provide the other. In the resolution of congress already recited, it is recom- mended to the several states to lay taxes for raising their quotas of money for the United States, separate from t/wse laid for their own particular use. This is a most necessary point to be observed, and the dis- tinction should follow all the way through. They should be levied", paid and collected separately, and kept separate in every instance. Neither have the civil officers of any state, or the government of that state, the least right to touch that money which the people pay for the support of their army and the war, any more than congress has to touch that which each state raises for its own use. This distinction will naturally be followed by another. It will occasion every state to examine nicely into the expenses of its civil list, and to regulate, reduce, and bring it into better order than it has hitherto been ; because the money for that purpose must be raised apart, and accounted for to the public separately. But while the moneys of both were blended, the necessary nicety was not observed, and the poor soldier, who ought to have been the first, was the last who was thought of. Another convenience will be, that the people, by paying the taxes separately, will know what they are for ; and will like- wise know that those which are for the defence of the country will cease with the war, or soon after. For although, as I have 202 THE CRISIS. before observed, the war is their own, and for the support of their ,own rights and the protection of their own property, yet they have the same right to know that they have to pay, and it is the want of not knowing that is often the cause of dissatis- faction. This regulation of keeping the taxes separate has given rise to a regulation in the office of finance, by which it was directed. " That the receivers shall, at the end of every month, make out an exact account of the moneys received by them respec- tively during such month, specifying therein the names of the persons from whom the same shall have been received, the dates and the sums ; which account they shall respectively cause to be published in one of the newspapers of the state ; to the end that every citizen may know how much of the moneys collected from him, in taxes, is transmitted to the treasury of the United States for the support of the war ; and also that it may be known what moneys have been at the order of the superintcnd- ant of finance. It being proper and necessary that, in a free country, the people should be as fully infoi-rned of the adminis- tration of their affairs as the nature of things will admit." It is an agreeable thing to see a spirit of order and economy taking place, after such a series of errors and difficulties. A government or an administration, who means and acts honestly, has nothing to fear, and consequently has nothing to conceal ; and it would be of use if a monthly or quarterly account was to be published as well of the expenditures as of the receipts. Eight millions of dollars must be husbanded with an exceeding deal of care to make it do, and, therefore, as the management must be reputable, the publication would be serviceable. I have heard of petitions which have been presented to the assembly of this state (and probably the same may have hap- pened in other states) praying to have the taxes lowered. Now the only way to keep taxes low is for the United States to have ready money to go to market with : and though the taxes to be raised for the present year will fall heavy, and there will natur- ally be some difficulty in paying them, yet the difficulty, in pro- portion as money spreads about the country, will every day rw less, and in the end we shall save some millions of dollars it. We see what a bitter, revengeful enemy we have to deal with, and any expense is cheap compared to their merciless paw. We have seen the unfortunate Carolineans hunted like part- ridges on the mountains, and it is only by providing means for THE CRISIS. 203 our defence that we shall be kept from the some condition. When we think or talk about taxes, we ought to recollect that we lie down in peace and sleep in safety ; that we can follow our farms or stores or other occupations in prosperous tran- quillity ; and that these inestimable blessings are procured to us by the taxes that we pay. In this view, our taxes are pro- perly our insurance money ; they are what we pay to be made safe, and, in strict policy, are the best money we can lay out. It was my intention to offer some remarks on the impost law of five per cent, recommended by congress, and to be established as a fund for the payment of the loan-office certificates, and other debts of the United States ; but I have already extended my piece beyond my intention. And as this fund will make our system of finance complete, and is strictly just, and consequently requires nothing but honesty to do it> there needs but little to be said upon it. COMMON SENSE. PHILADELPHIA, If arch 5, J78&. NUMBER XIL ON THE PRESENT STATE OF NEWS. SINCE the arrival of two, if not three packets, in quick suc- cession, at New York, from England, a variety of unconnected news has circulated through the country, and afforded as great a variety of speculation. That something is the matter in the cabinet and councils of our enemies, on the other side of the water, is certain that they have run their length of madness, and are under the ne- cessity of changing their measures may easily be seen into ; but to what this change of measures may amount, or how far it may correspond with our interest, happiness, and duty, is yet uncertain; and from what we have hitherto experienced, we have too much reason to suspect them in everything. I do not address this publication so much to the people of America as to the British ministiy, whoever they may be, for if it is their intention to promote any kind of negotiation, it is proper they should know beforehand, that the United States have as much honor as bravery; and that they are no more to be seduced from their alliance; that their line of politics ia 204 THE CRISIS. formed and not dependent, like that of their enemy, on chance and accident. On our part, in order to know, at any time, what the British government will do, we have only to find out what they ought not to do, and this last will be their conduct. Forever chang- ing and forever wrong; too distant from America to improve in circumstances, and too unwise to foresee them; scheming without principle, and executing without probability, their whole line of management has hitherto been blunder and base- ness. Every campaign has added to their loss, and every year to their disgrace; till unable to go on, and ashamed to go back, their politics have come to a halt, and all their fine prospects to a halter. Could our affections forgive, or humanity forget the wounds of an injured country we might, under the influence of a mo- mentary oblivion, stand still and laugh But they are engraven where no amusement can conceal them, and of a kind for which there is no recompense. Can ye restore to us the beloved dead 1 ? Can ye say to the grave, give up the murdered? Can ye obliterate from our memories those who are no more 1 Think not then to tamper with our feelings by insidious contrivance, nor suffocate our humanity by seducing us to dishonor In March, 1780, I published part of the Crisis, No. VIII , in the newspapers, but did not conclude it in the following papers and the remainder has lain by me till the present day. There appeared about that time some disposition in the British cabinet to cease the further prosecution of the war, and as I had formed my opinion that whenever such a design should take place, it would be accompanied with a dishonorable pro- position to America, respecting France, I had suppressed the remainder of that number, not to expose the baseness of any such proposition. But the arrival of the next news from Eng- land, declared her determination to go on with the war, and consequently as the political object I had then in view was not become a subject, it was unnecessary in me to bring it forward, which is the reason it was never published. The matter which I allude to in the unpublished part, I shall now make a quotation of, and apply it as the more en- larged state of things, at this day, shall make convenient or necessary. It was as follows: " By the speeches which have appeared from the British par- THE CRISIS. 205 liament, it is easy to perceive to what impolitic and imprudent excesses their passions and prejudices have, in every instance, carried them during the present war. Provoked at the upright and honorable treaty between America and France, they im- agined that nothing more was necessary to be done to prevent its final ratification, than to promise, through the agency of their commissioners (Carlisle, Eden and Johnson) a repeal of their once offensive acts of parliament. The vanity of the con- ceit was as unpardonable as the experiment was impolitic. And so convinced am I of their wrong ideas of America, that I shall not wonder if, in their last stage of political frenzy, they propose to her to break her alliance with France, and enter into one with them. Such a proposition, should it ever be made, and it has been already more than once hinted at in parliament, would discover such a disposition to perfidiousness, and such disregard of honor and morals, as would add the finishing vice to national corruption. I do not mention this to put America on the watch, but to put England on her guard, that she do not, in the looseness of her heart, envelop in disgrace every frag- ment of her reputation " Thus far the quotation. By the complexion of some part of the news which has trans- pired though the New York papers, it seems probable that this insidious era in the British politics is beginning to make its appearance. I wish it may not , for that which is a disgrace to human nature, throws something of a shade over all the human character, and each individual feels his share of the wound that is given to the whole. The policy of Britain has ever been to divide America in some way or other. In the beginning of the dispute she prac- tised every art to prevent or destroy the union of the states, well knowing that could she once get them to stand singly, she could conquer them unconditionally. Failing in this project in America, she renewed it in Europe; and after the alliance had taken place, she made secret offers to France to induce her to give up America; and what is still more extraordinary, she at the same time made propositions to Dr. Franklin, then in Paris, the very court to which she was secretly applying, to draw off' America from France. But this is not all. On the 14th of September, 1778, the British court, through their secretary, Lord Weymouth, made application to the Marquis d'Almodovar, the Spanish ambassador at London, to " aak the mediation" for these were the words, of the court of 20b Spain, for the purpose of negotiating a peace with Francs, leaving America (as I shall hereafter show) out of the question. Spain readily offered her mediation, and likewise the city of Madrid as the place of conference, but withal, proposed, that the United States of America should be invited to the treaty, and considered as independent during the time the business was negotiating. But this was not the view of England. She wanted to draw France from the war, that she might uninter- ruptedly pour out all her force and fury upon America ; and being disappointed in this plan, as well through the open and generous conduct of Spain, as the determination of France, she refused the mediation which she had solicited. I shall now give some extracts from the justifying memorial of the Spanish court, in which she has set the conduct and character of Britain, with respect to America, in a clear and striking point of light The memorial, speaking of the refusal of the British court to meet in conference, with commissioners from the United States, who were to be considered as independent during the time of the conference, says, "It is a thing very extrardinary and even ridiculous, that the court of London, who treats the colonies as independent, not only in acting, but of right, during the war, should have a repugnance to. treat them as such only in acting during a truce, or suspension of hostilities. The convention of Saratoga ; the reputing General Burgoyne as a lawful prisoner, in order to suspend his trial ; the exchange and liberation of other prisoners made from *,he colonies, the having named commissioners to go and supplicate the Americans, at their own doors, request peace of them, and treat with them and the congress: and, finally, by a thousand other acts of this sort, authorized by the court, of London, which have been, and are true signs of the ac- knowledgment of their independence. "In aggravation of all the foregoing, at the same time the British cabinet answered the king of Spain in the terms already mentioned, they wore insinuating themselves at the court of France by means of secret emissaries, and making very great ofiers to her, to abandon the colonies and make peace with Eng- land. But there is yet more; for at this same time the English ministry were treating, by means of another certain emissary, with Dr. Franklin, minister plenipotentiary from the colonies, residing at Paris, to whom they made various proposals to dis- THE CRISIS. 207 unite them from France, and accommodate matters with Eng- land. "From what has been observed, it evidently follows, that the whole of the British politics was, to disunite the two courts of Paris and Madrid, by means of the suggestions and offers which she separately made to them; and also to separate the colonies from their treaties and engagements entered into with France, and induce them to a m against the house of Bourbon, or more probably to oppress them when they found, from breaking their engagements, that they stood alone and without protection. "This, therefore is the net they laid for the American states; that is to say, to tempt them with flattering and very magnifi- cent promises to come to an accommodation with them, exclusive of any intervention of Spain or France, that the British ministry might always remain the arbiters of the fate of the colonies. "But the Catholic king (the king of Spain) faithful on the one part to the engagements which bind him to the Most Chris- tian king (the king of France) his nephew; just and upright on the other, to his own subjects, whom he ought to protect and guard against so many insults; and finally, full of humanity and compassion for the Americans and other individuals who suffer in the present war; he is determined to pursue and pro- secute it, and to make all the efforts in his power, until he can obtain a solid and permanent peace, with full and satisfactory securities that it shall be observed." Thus far the memorial, a translation of which into English, may be seen in full, under the head of State Papers, in the Annual Kegister, for 1779, p. 367. The extracts I have here given, serve to show the various endeavors and contrivances of the enemy, to draw France from her connection with America, and to prevail on her to make a separate peace with England, leaving America totally out of the question, and at the mercy of a merciless, unprincipled en- emy. The opinion, likewise, which Spain has formed of the British cabinet character, for meanness and perfidiousness, is so exactly the opinion of America, respecting it, that the mem- orial, in this instance, contains our own statements and language ; for people, however remote, who think alike, will unavoidably .speak alike. Thus we see the insidious use which Britain endeavored to make of the propositions of peace under the mediation of Spain. I shall now proceed to the second proposition under the media- 208 THE CRISIS. tion of the emperor of Germany and the empress of Russia ; the general outline of which was, that a congress of the several powers at war, should meet at Vienna, in 1781, to settle pre- liminaries of peace. I could wish myself at liberty to make use of all the infor- mation which I am possessed of on this subject, but as there is a delicacy in the matter, I do not conceive it prudent, at least at present, to make references and quotations in the same man- ner as I have done with respect to the mediation of Spain, who published the whole proceedings herself; and therefore, what comes from me, on this part of the business, must rest on my own credit with the public, assuring them, that when the whole proceedings, relative to the proposed congress of Vienna, shall appear, they will find niy account not only true, but studiously moderate. We know at the time this mediation was on the carpet, the expectation of the British king and ministry ran high with respect to the conquest of America. The English packet which was taken with the mail on board, and carried into 1'Orient, in France, contained letters from lord G. Germaine to Sir Henry Clinton, which expressed in the fullest terms the ministerial idea of a total conquest. Copies of those letters were sent to congress and published in the newspapers of last year. Colonel Laurens brought over the originals, some of which, signed in the hand-writing of the then secretary, Germaine, are now in my possession. Filled with these high ideas, nothing could be more insolent towards America than the language of the British court on the proposed mediation. A peace with France and Spain she anxi- ously solicited ; but America, as before, was to be left to her mercy, neither would she hear any proposition for admitting an agent from the United States into the congress of Vienna. On the other hand, France, with an open, noble, and manly determination, and the fidelity of a good ally, would hear no proposition for a separate peace, nor even meet in congress at Vienna, without an agent from America : and likewise that the independent character of the United States, represented by the agent, should be fully and unequivocally defined and settled before any conference should be entered on. The reasoning of the court of France on the several propositions of the two imperial courts, which relate to us, is rather in the style of an American than an ally, and she advocated the cause of America THE CRISIS. 209 as if she had been America herself. Thus the second mediation, like the first, proved ineffectual. But since that time, a reverse of fortune has overtaken the British arms, and all their high expecations are dashed to the ground. The noble exertions to the southward under General Greene; the successful operations of the allied arms in the Chesapeake; the loss of most of their islands in the West Indies, and Minorca in the Mediterranean; the persevering spirit of Spain against Gibraltar; the expected capture of Jamaica; the failure of making a separate peace with Holland, and the ex- pense of an hundred millions sterling, by which all these fine losses were obtained, have read them a loud lesson of disgrace- ful misfortune, and necessity has called on them to change their ground. In this situation of confusion and despair their present coun- cils have no fixed character. It is now the hurricane months of British politics. Every day seems to have a storm of its own, and they are scudding under the bare poles of hope. Beaten, but not humble ; condemned, but not penitent ; they act like men trembling at fate, and catching at a straw. From this con- vulsion, in the entrails of their politics, it is more than probable, that the mountain groaning in labor will bring forth a mouse, as to its size, and a monster in its make. They will try on America the same insidious arts they tried on France and Spain. "We sometime experience sensations to which language is not equal. The conception is too bulky to be born alive, and in the torture of thinking, we stand dumb Our feelings, imprisoned by their magnitude, find no way out and, in the struggle of expression, every finger tries to be a tongue. The machinery of the body seems too little for the mind, and we look about for helps to show our thoughts by. Such must be the sensation of America, whenever Britain, teeming with corruption, shall pro- pose to her to sacrifice her faith. But, exclusive of the wickedness, there is a personal offence contained in every such attempt. It is calling us villains : for no man asks another to act the villain unless he believes him inclined to be one. No man attempts to seduce a truly honest woman. It is the supposed looseness of her mind that starts the thoughts of seduction, and he who offers it calls her a pros- titute. Our pride is always hurt by the same propositions which offend our principles; for when we are shocked at the crime we are wounded by the suspicion of our compliance. 14 210 THE CRISIS. Could I convey a thought that might serve to regulate the public mind, I would not make the interest of the alliance the basis of defending it All the world are moved by interest, and it affords them nothing to boast of. But I would go a step higher, and defend it on the ground of honor and princi- ple. That our public affairs have nourished under the alliance that it was wisely made, and has been nobly executed that by its assistance we are enabled to preserve our country from conquest, and expel those who sought our destruction that it is our true interest to maintain it unimpaired, and that while we do so no enemy can conquer us, are matters which exper- ience has taught us, and the common good of ourselves, ab stracted from principles of faith and honor, would lead us to maintain the connexion. But over and above the mere letter of the alliance, we have been nobly and generously treated, and have had the same respect and attention paid to us, as if we had been an old estab- lished country. To oblige and be obliged is fair work among mankind, and we want an opportunity of showing to the world that we are a people sensible of kindness and worthy of con- lidence. Character is to us, in our present circumstances, of more importance than interest. We are a young nation, just stepping upon the stage of public life, and the eye of the world is upon us to see how- we act. We have an enemy who is watching to destroy our reputation, and who will go any length to gain some evidence against us, that may serve to render our conduct suspected, and our character odious; be- cause, could she accomplish this, wicked as it is, the world would withdraw from us, as from a people not to be trusted, and our task would then become difficult. There is nothing which sets the character of a nation in a hiclier or lower light with others than the faithfully fulfilling or perfidiously breaking of treaties. They are things not to be tampered with : and should Britain, which seems very prob- able, propose to seduce America into such an act of baseness, it would merit from her some mark of unusual detestation. It is one of those extraordinary instances in which we ought not to be contented with the bare negative of congress, because it is an affront on the multitude as well as on the government. It goes on the supposition that the public are not honest men, and that they may be managed by contrivance, though they cannot be conquered by arms. But, let the world and Britain THE CRISIS. 211 know, that we are neither to be bought nor sold. That our mind is great and 'fixed; our prospect clear; and that we will support our character as firmly as our independence. But I will go still further. General Conway, who made the motion in the British parliament, for discontinuing offensive war in America, is a gentlemen of an amiable character. We have no personal quarrel with him. But he feels not as we feel ; he is not in our situation, and that alone, without any other explanation, is enough. The British parliament suppose they have many friends in America, and that, when all chance of conquest is over, they will be able to draw her from her alliance with France. Now, if I have any conception of the human heart, they will fail in this more than in anything that they have yet tried. This part of the business is not a question of policy only, but of honor and honesty ; and the proposition will have in it something so visibly low and base, that their partisans, if they have any, will be ashamed of it. Men are often hurt by a mean action who are not startled at a wicked one, and this will be such a confession of inability, such a declaration of servile thinking, that the scandal of it will ruin all their hopes. In short, we have nothing to do but to go on with vigor and determination. The enemy is yet in our country. They hold New York, Charleston and Savannah, and their very being in those places is an offence, and a part of offensive war, and antil they can be driven from them, or captured in them, it would be folly in us to listen to an idle tale. 1 take it for granted that the British ministry are sinking under the impos- sibility of carrying on the war. Let them then come to a fair and open peace with France, Spain, Holland and America, in the manner that she ought to do; but until then, we can have nothing to say to them. COMMON SENSE. PHILADELPHIA, 3fiy &nd, 1789. NUMBER XIII. TO SIR GUY CARLETON. IT is the nature of compassion to associate with misfortune ; and I address this to you in behalf even of an enemy, a captain 212 THE CRISIS. in the British service, now on his way to the headquarters of the American array, and unfortunately doomed to death for a crime not his own. A sentence so extraordinary, an execution so repugnant to every human sensation, ought never to be told without the circumstances which produced it: and as the des- tined victim is yet in existence, and in your hands rest his life or death, I shall briefly state the case, and the melancholy consequence. Captain Huddy, of the Jersey militia, was attacked in a small fort on Tom's River, by a party of refugees in the British pay and service, was made prisoner, together with his company, carried to New York and lodged in the provost of that city : about three weeks after which, he was taken out of the provost down to the water-side, put into a boat, and brought again upon the Jersey shore, amd there, contrary to the practice of all na- tions but savages, was hung up on a tree, and left hanging till found by our people, who took him down and buried him. The inhabitants of that part of the country where the murder was committed, sent a deputation to General Washington with a full and certified statement of the fact. Struck, as every human breast must be, with such brutish outrage, and deter mined both to punish and prevent it for the future, the general represented the case to General Clinton, who then commanded, and demanded that the refugee officer who ordered and attended the execution, and whose name is Lippincut, should be delivered up as a murderer; and in case of refusal, that the person of some British officer should suffer in his stead. The demand, though not refused, has not been complied with; and the mel- ancholy lot (not by selection, but by casting lots) has fallen upon Captain Asgill, of the guards, who, as I have already men- tioned, is on his way from Lancaster to camp, a martyr to the general wickedness of the cause he engaged in, and the ingrati- tude of those whom he served. The first reflection which arises on this black business is, what sort of men must Englishmen be, and what sort of order and discipline do they preserve in their army, when in the im- mediate place of their headquarters, and under the eye and nose of their commander-in-chief, a prisoner can be taken at pleasure from his confinement, and his death made a matter of sport. The history of the most savage Indians does not produce in- stances exactly of this kind. They, at least, have a formality THE CPJSIS. 213 in their punishments. With them it is the horridness of re- venge, but with your army it is a still greater crime, the hor ridness of diversion. The British generals, who have succeeded each other, from the time of General Gage to yourself, have all affected to speak in language that they have no right to. In their proclamations, their addresses, their letters to General Washington, and their supplications to congress (for they deserve no other name) they talk of British honor, British generosity, and British clemency, as if those things were matters of fact ; whereas, we whose eyes are open, who speak the same language with yourselves, many of whom were born on the same spot with you, and who can no more be mistaken in your words than in your actions, can declare to all the world, that so far as our knowledge goes, there is not a more detestable character, nor a meaner or more bar- barous enemy, than the present British one. With us, you have forfeited all pretensions to reputation, and it is only hold- ing you like a wild beast, afraid of your keepers, that you can be made manageable. But to return to the point in question. Though i can think no man innocent who has lent his hand to destroy the country which he did not plant, and to ruin those that he could not enslave, yet, abstracted from all ideas of right and wrong on the original question, Captain Asgill, in the pre- sent case, is not the guilty man. The villain and the victim are here separated characters. You hold the one and we the other. You disown, or affect to disown and reprobate the con duct of Lippincut, yet you give him a sanctuary ; and by so do ing you as effectually become die executioner of Asgill, as if you had put the rope on his neck, and dismissed him from the world Whatever your feelings on this interesting occasion may be are best known to yourself. Within the grave of our own mind lies buried the fate of Asgill. He becomes the corpse of your will, or the survivor of your justice. Deliver up the one and you save the other; withhold the one, and the other dies by your choice. On our part the case is exceeding plain ; an officer has been taken from his confinement and murdered, and the murderer is within your lines. Your army has been guilty of a thousand instances of equal cruelty, but they have been rendered equivo- cal, and sheltered from personal detection. Here the crime is fixed ; and is one of those extraordinary cases which can be neither denied nor palliated, and to which the custom of war 214 THE CRISIS. does not apply ; for it never could be supposed that such a brutal outrage would ever be committed. It is an original in the history of civilized barbarians, and is truly British. On your part you are accountable to us for the personal safety of the prisoners within your walls. Here can be no mistake ; they can neither be spies nor suspected as such ; your security is not endangered, nor your operations subjected to miscarriage, by men immured within a dungeon. They differ in every circumstance from men in the field, and leave no pre- tence for severity of punishment. But if to the dismal condition of captivity with you, must be added the constant apprehensions of death ; if to be imprisoned is so nearly to be entombed ; and, if after all, the murderers are to be protected, and thereby the crime encouraged, wherein do you differ from Indians, either in conduct or character 1 We can have no idea of your honor or your justice in any future transaction, of what nature it may be, while you shelter within your lines an outrageous murderer, and sacrifice in his stead an officer of your own. If you have no regard to us, at least spare the blood which it is your duty to save. Whether the punishment will be greater on him, who, in this case, inno- cently dies, or on him whom sad necessity forces to retaliate, is, in the nicety of sensation, an undecided question. It rests with you to prevent the sufferings of both. You have nothing to do but to give up the murderer, and the matter ends. But to protect him, be he who he may, is to patronise his crime; and to trifle it off by frivolous and unmeaning inquiries, is to promote it. There is no declaration you can make nor promise you can give that will obtain credit. It is the man and not the apology that is demanded. You see yourself pressed on all sides to spare the life of your own officer, for die he will if you withhold justice. The mur- der of Captain Huddy is an offence not to be borne with, and there is no security which we can have, that such actions or similar ones shall not be repeated, but by making the punish- ment fall upon yourselves. To destroy the last security of captivity, and to take the unarmed, the unresisting prisoner to private and sportive execution, is carrying barbarity too high for silence. The evil must be put an end to ; and the choice of persons rests with you. But if your attachment to the guilty is stronger than to the innocent, you invent a crime that must destroy your character, and if the cause of your king needs to THE CRISIS. 215 be so supported, for ever cease, sir, to torture our remembrance with the wretched phrases of British honor, British generosity, and British clemency. From this melancholy circumstance, learn, sir, a lesson of morality. The refugees are men whom your predecessors have instructed in wickedness, the better to fit them to their master's purpose. To make them useful, they have made them vile, and the consequence of their tutored villainy is now descending on the heads of their encouragers. They have been trained like hounds to the scent of blood, and cherished in every species of dissolute barbarity. Their ideas of right and wrong are worn away in the constant habitude, of repeated infamy, till, like men practised in execution, they feel not the value of another's life. The task before you, though painful, is not difficult ; give up the murderer, and save your officer, as. the first outset of neces sary reformation. COMMON SENSE. PHIIAD '.PHIA, M 'y 31, 1782. DUMBER XIV. TO THE EAKL OF SHELBTJRNE. MY LOKD, A speech, which has been printed in several of the British and New York newspapers, as coming from your lordship, in answer to one from the duke of Richmond, of the 10th of July last, contains expressions and opinions so new and singular, and so enveloped in mysterious reasoning, that I ad dress this publication to you, for the purpose of giving them a free and candid examination. The speech that I allude to is in these words: "His lordship said, it had been mentioned in another place, that he had been guilty of inconsistency. To cleai himself of this, he asserted that he still held the same principles in respect to American independence which he at first imbibed. He had been, and yet was of opinion, whenever the parliament of Great Britain acknowledges that point, the sun of England's glory is set forever. Such were the sentiments he possessed on a former day, and such the sentiments he continued to hold at this hour. It was the opinion of lord Chatham, as well as many other able 216 THE CK1SIS. statesmen. Other noble lords, however, think differently ; and as the majority of the cabinet support them, he acquiesced in the measure, dissenting from the idea; and the point is settled for bringing the matter into the full discussion of parliament, where it will be candidly, fairly, and impartially debated. The in- dependence of America would end in the ruin of England; and that a peace patched up with France, would give that proud enemy the means of yet trampling on this country. The sun of England's glory he wished not to see set forever ; he looked for a spark at least to be left, which might in time light us up to a new day. But if independence was to be granted, if parlia- ment deemed that measure prudent, he foresaw, in his own mind, that England was undone. He wished to God that he had been deputed to congress, that he might plead the cause of that country as well as of this, and that he might exercise whatever powers he possessed as an orator, to save both from ruin, in a conviction to congress, that, if their independence was signed, their liberties were gone forever. "Peace, his lordship added, was a desirable object, but it must be an honorable peace, and not an humiliating one, dictated by France, or insisted or by America. It was very true, that this kingdom was not in a flourishing state, it was impoverished by war. But if we were not rich, it was evident that France was poor. If we were straitened in our finances, the enemy were exhausted in their resources. This was a g^eat empire; it abounded with brave men, who were able and willing to fight in a common cause ; the language of humilitation should not, there- fore, be the language of Great Britain. His lordship said, that he was not afraid nor ashamed of those expressions going to America. There were numbers, great numbers, there, who were of the same way of thinking, in respect to that country being dependent on this, and who, with his lordship, perceived ruin and independence linked together." Thus far the speech; on which I remark That his lordship is a total stranger to the mind and sentiments of America ; that he has wrapped himself up in fond delusion, that something less than independence may, under his administration, be accepted; and he wishes himself sent to congress, to prove the most extra- ordinary of all doctrines, which is, that independence, the sub- Urnest of all human conditions, is loss of liberty. In answer to which we may say, that in order to know what the contrary word dependence means, we have only to look back 217 to those years of severe humiliation, when the mildest of all petitions could obtain no other notice than the haughtiest of all insults; and when the base terms of unconditional submission were demanded, or undistinguishable destruction threatened. It is nothing to us that the ministry have been changed, for they may be changed again. The guilt of a government is the crime of a whole country ; and the nation that can, though but for a moment, think and act as England has done, can never after- wards be believed or trusted. There are cases in which it is as impossible to restore character to life, as it is to recover the dead. It is a phoenix that can expire but once, and from whose ashes there is no resurrection. Some offences are of such a slight com- position, that they reach no further than the temper, and are created or cured by a thought. But the sin of England has struck the heart of America, and nature has not left in our power to say we can forgive. Your lordship wishes for an opportunity to plead before con- gress the cause of England and America, and to save, as you say, both from ruin. That the country, which, for more than seven years has sought our destruction, shou. \ now cringe to solicit our protec- tion, is adding the wretchedness of disgrace to the misery of disappointment; and if England has the least spark of supposed honor left, that spark must be darkened by asking, and ex- tinguished by receiving the smallest favor from America; for the criminal who owes his life to the grace and mercy of the injured, is more execrated by the living, than he who dies. But a thousand pleadings, even from your lordship, can have no effect Honor, interest, and every sensation of the heart, would plead against you. We are a people who think not as you think ; and what is equally true, you cannot feel as we feel. The situation of the two countries are exceedingly different. Ours has been the seat of war; yours has seen nothing of it. The most wanton destruction has been committed in our sight, the most insolent barbarity has been acted on our feelings. We can look round and see the remains of burnt and destroyed houses, once the fair fruit of hard industry, and now the striking monuments of British brutality. We walk over the dead whom we loved, in every part of America, and remember by whom they fell. There is scarcely a village but brings to life some melancholy thought, and reminds us of what we have suffered, and of those we have lost by the inhumanity of Britain. 218 THE CRISIS. A thousand images arise to us, which, from situation, you can- not see, and are accompanied by as many ideas which you cannot know ; and therefore your supposed system of reasoning would apply to nothing, and all your expectations die of them- selves. The question whether England shall accede to the independ- ence of America, and which your lordship says is to undergo a parliamentary discussion, is so very simple, and composed of so few cases, that it scarcely needs a debate. It is the only way out of an expensive and ruinous war, which has no object, and without which acknowledgment there can be no peace. But your lordship says, the sun of Great Britain will set wJienever she acknowledges the independence of America. Whereas the metaphor would have been strictly just, to have left the sun wholly out of the figure, and have ascribed her not acknowledging it to the influence of the moon. But the expression, if true, is the greatest confession of dis- grace that could be made, and furnishes America with the highest notions of sovereign independent importance. Mr. Wedderburne, about the year 1776, made use of an idea of much the same kind, Relinquish America/ says he What is it but to desire a giant to shrink spontaneously into a dwarf. Alas! are those people who call themselves Englishmen, of so little internal consequence, that when America is gone, or shuts her eyes upon them, their sun is set, they can shine no more, but grope about in obscurity, and contract into insignifi- cant animals 1 Was America, then, the giant of the empire, and England only her dwarf in waiting? Is the case so strangely altered, that those who once thought we could not live without them, are now brought to declare that they cannot exist without us ? Will they tell to the world, and that from their first minister of state, that America is their all in all ; that it is by her importance only that they can live, and breathe, and have a being? Will they, who long since threatened to bring us to their feet, bow themselves at ours, and own that without us they are not a nation 1 Are they be- come so unqualified to debate on independence, that they have lost all idea of it themselves, and are calling to the rocks and moun- tains of America to cover their insignificance ? Or, if America is lost, is it manly to sob over it like a child for its rattle, and invite the laughter of the world by declarations of disgrace ? THE CRISIS. -210 Surely, a more consistent line of conduct would be to bear it without complaint ; and to show that England, without America, can preserve her independence, and a suitable rank with other European powers. You were not contented while you had her, and to weep for her now is childish. But Lord Shelburne thinks something may yet be done. What that something is, or how it is to be accomplished, is a matter in obscurity. By arms there is no hope. The experi- ence of nearly eight years, with the expense of an hundred million pounds sterling, and the loss of two armies, must posi- ti"ely decide that point. Besides, the British have lost their interest in America with the disaffected. Every part of it has been tried. There is no new scene left for delusion: and the thousands who have been ruined by adhering to them, and have now to quit the settlements which they had acquired, and be conveyed like transports to cultivate the deserts of Augustine ;uid Nova Scotia, has put an end to all further expectations of aid. If you cast your eyes on the people of England, what have they to console themselves with for the millions expended ? Or, what encouragement is there left to continue throwing good money after bad 1 America can carry on the war for ten years longer, and all the charges of government included, for less than you can defray the charges of war and government for one year. And I, who know both countries } know well, that the people of America can afford to pay their share of the expenses much better than the people of England can. Besides, it is their own estates and property, their own rights, liberties and government, that they are defending; and were they not to do it, they would deserve to lose all, and none would pity them. The fault would be their own, and their punishment just. The British army in America care not how long the war lasts. They enjoy an easy and indolent life. They fatten on the folly of one country and the spoils of another; and, between their plunder and their pay, may go home rich. But the case is very different with the laboring farmer, the working tradesman, and the necessitous poor in England, the sweat of whose brow goes day after day to feed, in prodigality and sloth, the army that is robbing both tkern and us. Removed from the eye of that country that supports them, and distant from the government that employs them, they cut and carve for themselves, and there is none to call them to account. 220 THE CRISIS. But England will be ruined, says Lord Shelburne, if America is independent. Then, I say, is England already ruined, for America is already independent; and if Lord Shelburne will not allow this, he immediately denies the fact which he infers. Besides, to make England the mere creature of America, is paying too great a compliment to us, and too little to himself. But the declaration is a rhapsody of inconsistency. For to say, as Lord Shelburne has numberless times said, that the war against America is ruinous, and yet to continue the prosecution of that ruinous war for the purpose of avoiding ruin, is a lan- guage which cannot be understood. Neither is it possible to see how the independence of America is to accomplish the ruin of England after the war is over, and yet not affect it before. America cannot be more independent of her, nor a greater enemy to her, hereafter than she now is; nor can England derive less advantages from her than at present: why then is ruin to follow in the best state of the case, and not in the worst 1 ? And if not in the worst, why is it to follow at all 1 That a nation is to be ruined by peace and commerce, and fourteen or fifteen millions a year less expenses than before, is a new doctrine in politics. We have heard much clamor of national savings and economy; but surely the true economy would be, to save the whole charge of a silly, foolish and head- strong war; because, compared with this, all other retrench- ments are baubles and trifles. But is it possible that Lord Shelburne can be serious in supposing that the least advantage can be obtained by arms, or that any advantage can be equal to the expense or the danger of attempting it? Will not the capture of one army after another satisfy him, must all become prisoners ? Must England ever be the sport of hope, and the victim of delusion ? Some- times our currency was to fail; another time our army was to disband; then whole provinces were to revolt. Such a general said this and that; another wrote so and so; Lord Chatham was of this opinion, and Lord somebody else of another. To- day 20,000 Russians and 20 Russian ships of the line were to come; to-morrow the empress was abused without mercy or decency. Then the emperor of Germany was to be bribed with a million of money, and the king of Prussia was to do wonder- ful things. At one time it was, lo here ! and then it was, lo there ! Sometimes this power, and sometimes that power, was THE CRISIS. 221 to engage in the war, just as if the whole world was as mad und foolish as Britain. And thus, from year to year, has every straw been catched at, and every Will- with-a- wisp led Vhem a new dance. This year a still newer folly is to take place. Lord Shel- burne wishes to be sent to congress, and he thinks that some- thing may be done. Are not the repeated declarations of congress, and which all America supports, that they will not even hear any proposals whatever, until the unconditional and unequivocal independence of America is recognized; are not, I say, these declarations answer enough 1 ? But for England to receive anything from America now, after so many insults, injuries and outrages, acted towards us, would show such a spirit of meanness in her, that we could not but despise her for accepting it. And so far from Lord Shelburne's coming here to solicit it, it would be the greatest disgrace we could do them to offer it. England would appear a wretch indeed, at this time of day. to ask or owe anything to the bounty of America. Has not the name of Englishmen blots enough upon it without inventing more ? Even Lucifer would scorn to reign in heaven by permission, and yet an Englishman can creep for only an entrance into America. Or, has a land of liberty so many charms that to be door- keeper in it is better than to be an English minister of state ? But what can this expected something be ? Or, if obtained, what can it amount to, but new disgraces, contentions and quarrels ? The people of America have for years accustomed themselves to think and speak so freely and contemptuously of English authority, and the inveteracy is so deeply rooted, that a person invested with any authority from that country, and attempting to exercise it here, would have the life of a toad under a harrow. They would look on him as an interloper, to whom their compassion permitted a residence He would be no more than the Mungo of a farce; and if he disliked that, he must set off. It would be a station of degradation, debased by our pity, and despised by our pride, and would place England in a more contemptible situation than any she has yet been in during the war. We have too high an opinion of ourselves, ever to think of yielding again the least obedience to outlandish authority; and for a thousand reasons, England would be the last country in the world to yield it to. She has been treacb- 222 THE CRISIS. erous, and we knew it. Her character is gone, and we have seen the funeral. Surely she loves to fish in troubled waters, and drink the cup of contention, or she would not now think of mingling her affairs with those of America. It would be like a foolish dotard taking to his arms the bride that despises him, or who lias placed on his head the ensigns of her disgust It is kissing the hand that boxes his ears, and proposing to renew the ex- change. The thought is as servile as the war is wicked, and shows the last scene of the drama to be as inconsistent as the first. As America is gone, the only act of manhood is to let her go. Your lordship had no hand in the separation, and you will gain no honor by temporising politics. Besides, there is something so exceedingly whimsical, unsteady, and even insincere in the present conduct of England, that she exhibits herself in the most dishonorable colors. On the second of August last, General Carleton and Admiral Digby wrote to General Washington in these words: "The resolution of the House of Commons, of the 27th of February last, has been placed in Your Excellency's hands, and intimations given at the same time that further pacific measures were likely to follow. Since which, until the present time, we have had no direct communications with England; but a mail is now arrived, which brings us very important information. We are acquainted, sir, by authority, that negotiations for a general peace have already commenced at Paris, and that Mr. Grenville is invested wit)i full powers to treat with all the parties at war, and is now at Paris in execution of his com- mission. And we are further, sir, made acquainted, that his ^fajesty, in order to remove any obstacles to that peace which he so ardently wishes to restore, has commanded his ministers to direct Mr. Grenville, that the independence of the Thirteen United Provinces, should be proposed by him in the first in- stance, instead of making it a condition of a general treaty" Now, taking your present measures into view, and comparing them with the declaration in this letter, pray what is the word of your king, or his ministers, or the parliament, good for? Must we not look upon you as a confederated body of faithless, treacherous men, whose assurances are fraud, and their lan- guage deceit 1 What opinion can we possibly form of you, but that you are a lost, abandoned, profligate nation, who sport THE CHISIS. 223 even with your own character, and are to be held by nothing out the bayonet or the halter ? To say, after this, that the swn of Great Britain will be get whenever she acknowledges the independence of America, when the not doing it is the unqualified lie of Government, can be no other than the language of ridicule, the jargon of inconsist- ency. There were thousands in America who predicted the delusion, and looked upon it as a trick of treachery, to take us from our guard, and draw off our attention from the only sys- tem of finance, by which we can be called, or deserve to be called, a sovereign, independent people. The fraud, on your part, might be worth attempting, but the sacrifice to obtain it is too high. There are others who credited the assurance, because they thought it impossible that men who had their characters to establish, would begin it with a lie. The prosecution of the '.var by the former ministry was savage and horrid; since which it has been mean, trickish, and delusive. The one went greedily into the passion of revenge, the other into the subtle- ties of low contrivance; till, between the crimes of both, there is scarcely left a man in America, be he whig or tory, who does not despise or detest the conduct of Britain. The management of Lord Shelburne, whatever may be his views, is a caution to us, and must be to the world, never to regard British assurances. A perfidy so notorious cannot be hid. It stands even in the public papers of New York, with the names of Carleton and Digby affixed to it. It is a pro- clamation that the king of England is not to be believed; that the spirit of lying is the governing principle of the ministry. It is holding up the character of the House of Commons to public infamy, and warning all men not to credit them. Such are the consequences which Lord Shelburne's manage- ment has brought upon his country. After the authorized declarations contained in Carleton and Digby's letter, you ought, from every motive of honor, policy and prudence, to have fulfilled them, whatever might have been the event. It was the least atonement that you could possibly make to America, and the greatest kindness you could do to yourselves: for you will save millions by a general peace, and you will lose as many by continuing the war. COMMON SENSE. Oct. t9, 1738. 224 THE CRISIS. P.S. The manuscript copy of this letter is sent your lord- ship, by the way of our headquarters, to New York, inclosing a late pamphlet of mine, addressed to the Abbe Raynal, which will serve to give your lordship some idea of the principles and sentiments of America. C. S. NUMBER XV. "T^B times that tried men's souls,"* are ovr and the greatest and completest revolution the world ver knew, glor- iously and happily accomplished. But to pass from the extremes of danger to safety from the tumult of war to the tranquillity of peace, though sweet in contemplation, requires a gradual composure of the senses to receive it. Even calmness has the power of stunning, when it opens too instantly upon us. The long and raging hurricane that should cease in a moment, would leave us in a state rather of wonder than enjoyment; and some moments of recollection must pass, before we could be capable of tasting the felicity of repose. There are but few instances in which the mind is fitted for sudden transitions: it takes in its pleasures by reflec- tion and comparison, and those must have time to act, before the relish for new scenes is complete. In the present case the mighty magnitude of the object the various uncertainties of fate it has undergone the numerous and complicated dangers we have suffered or escaped the eminence we now stand on, and the vast prospect before us, must all conspire to impress us with contemplation. To see it in our power to make a world happy to teach mankind the art of being so to exhibit, on the theatre of the universe, a character hitherto unknown and to have, as it were, a new creation instrusted to our hands, are honors that command reflection, and can neither be too highly estimated, nor too gratefully received. In this pause then of recollection while the storm is ceas- ing, and the long-agitated mind vibrating to a rest, let us look back on the scenes we have passed, and learn from experience what is yet to be done. * "These are the times that try men's soula." "The Criaii, No. 1." pub- lished December, 1776. THE CRISIS. 225 Nevei, I say, had a country so many openings to happiness as this. Her setting out in life, like the rising of a fair morn- ing, was unclouded and promising. Her cause was good. Her principles just and liberal. Her temper serene and firm. Her conduct regulated by the nicest steps, and everything about her wore the mark of honor. It is not every country (perhaps there is not another in the world) that can boast so fair an origin. Even the first settlement of America corresponds with the character of the revolution. Rome, once the proud mistress of the universe, was originally a band of ruffians. Plunder and rapine made her rich, and her oppression of millions made her great. But America need never be ashamed to cell her birth, nor relate the stages by which she rose to empire. The remembrance, then, of what is past, ii t operates rightly, must inspire her with the most laudable of a ambition, that of adding to the fair fame she began with. The world has seen her great in adversity Struggling without a thought ol yield- ing, beneath accumulated difficulties. Bravely, nay proudly, encountering distress, and rising in resoJution as the storm in- creased. All this is justly due to her for her fortitude has merited the character. Let then, the world see that, she can bear prosperity : anu tnat her honest virtue in time of peace, is equal to the bravest virtue in time of war. She is now descending tc the scenes of quiet and domestic life Not beneath the cypress shade of disappointment, but to enjoy in her own land and under her own vine, the sweet of her labors, and the reward of her toil. In this situation, may she never forget that a fair national reputation is of as much im- portance as independence. That it possesses a charm that wins upon the world, and makes even enemies civil. That it gives a dignity which is often superior to power, and commands rever- ence where pomp and splendor fail. It would be a circumstance evei to be lamented and never to be forgotten, were a single blot, from any cause whatever, suf- fered to fall on a revolution, which to the end of time must be an honor to the age that accomplished it: and which has con- tributed more to enlighten the world, and diffuse a spirit of free- dom and liberality among mankind, than any human event (if this may be called one) that ever preceded it. It is not among the least of the calamities of a long-continued war that it unhinges the mind from those nice sensations which at other times appear so amiable. The continued spectacle of 15 226 THE CRISIS. woe blunts the finer feelings, and the necessity of bearing with the sight, renders it familiar. In like manner, are many of the moral obligations of society weakened, till the custom of acting by necessity becomes an apology, whre it is truly a crime. Yet let but a nation conceive rightly of its character, and it will be chastely j ust in protecting it. None never began with a fairer than America, and none can be under a greater obligation to preserve it. The debt which America has contracted, compared with the cause she has gained, and the advantages to flow from it, ought scarcely to be mentioned. She has it in her choice to do, and to live as happy as she pleases. The world is in her hands. She has no foreign power to monopolize her commerce, perplex her legislation, or control her prosperity. The struggle is over, which must one day have happened, and, perhaps, never could have happened at a better time.* And instead of a domineering * That the revolution began at the exact period of time best fitted to the purpose, is sufficiently proved by the event. But the great hinge on which the whole machine turned, is the Union of the States; and this union was naturally produced by the inability of any one state to support itself against any foreign enemy without the assistance of the rest. Had the states severally been less able than they were when the war began, their united strength would not have been equal to the undertaking, and they must in all human probability have failed. And, on the other hand, had they severally been more able, they might not have seen, or, what is more, might not have felt, the necessity of uniting: and, either by attempting to stand alone, or in small confederacies, would have been separately conquered. Now, as we cannot see a time (and many years must pass away before it can arrive) when the strength of any one state, or several united, can be equal to the whole of the present United States, and as we have seen the extreme difficulty of collectively prosecuting the war to a successful issue, and pre- serving our national importance in the world, therefore, from the experience we have had, and the knowledge we have gained, we must, unless we make a waste of wisdom, be strongly impressed with the advantage, as well as the necessity of strengthening that happy union which has been our salvation, and without which we should have been a ruined people. While I was writing this note, I cast my eye on the pamphlet, ' ' Common Sense," from which I shall make an extract, as it exactly applies to the case. It is as follows : " I have never met with a man, either in England or America, who hath not confessed it as his opinion that a separation between the countries would take place one time or other; and there is no instance in which we have shown less judgment, than in endeavoring to describe, what we call, the ripe- ness or fitness of the continent for independence. "As all men allow the measure, and differ in only their opinion of the time, let us, in order to remove mistakes, take a general survey of things, and endeavor, if possible, to find out the very time. But we need not to go far, the inquiry ceases at once, for the time has found us. The general concur- rence, the glorious union of all things prove the fact. "It ii not in numbers, but in a uuion, that our great strength lies. The con. THE CRISIS. 2'27 master, she has gained an ally, whose exemplary greitness, and universal liberality, have extorted a confession even from her enemies. With the blessings of peace, independence, and an universal commerce, the states, individually and collectivelly, will have leisure and opportunity to regulate and establish their domestic concerns, and to put it beyond the power of calumny to throw the least reflection on their honor. Character is much easier kept than recovered, and that man, if any such there be, who, from sinister views, or littleness of soul, lends unseen his hand to injure it, contrives a wound it will never be in his power to heal As we have established an inheritance for posterity, let that inheritance descend with every mark of an honorable convey- ance. The little it will cost, compared with the worth of the states, the greatness of the object, and the value of national char- acter, will be a profitable exchange. But that which must more forcibly strike a thoughtful pene- trating mind, and which includes and renders easy all inferior concerns, is the Union of the States. On this our great national character depends. It is this which must give us importance abroad and security at home. It is through this only, that we are or can be nationally known in the world; it is the flag of the United States which renders our ships and commerce safe on the seas, or in a foreign port. Our Mediterranean passes must be obtained under the same style. All our treaties, whether of alliance, peace or commerce, are formed under the sovereignty of the United States, and Europe knows us by no other name or title. The division of the empire into states is for our own con- venience, but abroad this distinction ceases. The affairs of each state are local. They can go no further than to itself. And were the whole worth of even the richest of them expended in revenue, it would not be sufficient to support sovereignty against a foreign attack. In short, we have no other national sovereignty than as United States. It would even be fatal for us if we had too expensive to be maintained, and impossible to be supported. Individuals, or individual states, may call themselves what they please; but the world, and especially the tinent is just arrived at that pitch of strength in which no single colony u able to support itself, and the whole, when united, can accomplish the mat- ter; and either more or less than this, might be fatal in its effects." -23 THE CRISIS. world of enemies, is not to be held in awe by the whistling of a name. Sovereignty must have power to protect all the parts that compose and constitute it; and as UNITED STATES we are equal to the importance of the title, but otherwise we are not. Our union, well and wisely regulated and cemented, is the cheapest way of being great the easiest way of being powerful, and the happiest invention in government which the circum- stances of America can admit of. Because it collects from each state, that which, by being inadequate, can be of no use to it, and forms an aggregate that serves for all. The states of Holland are an unfortunate instance of the effects of individual sovereignty. Their disjointed condition exposes them to numerous intrigues, losses, calamities and enemies; and the almost impossibility of bringing their measures to a decision, and that decision into execution, is to them, and would be to us, ^ source of endless misfortune. It is with confederated states as with individuals in society ; something must be yielded up to make the whole secure. In this view of things we gain by what we give, and draw an annual interest greater than the capital. I ever feel myself hurt when I hear the union, that great palladium of our liberty and safety, the least irreverently spoken of. It is the most sacred thing in the constitution of America, and that which every man should be most proud and tender of. Our citizen- ship in the United States is our national character. Our citi- zenship in any particular state is only our local distinction. By the latter we are known at home, by the former to the world Our great title is AMERICANS our inferior one varies with the place. So far as my endeavors could go, they have all been directed r,o conciliate the affections, unite the interests, and draw and keep the mind of the country together; and the better to assist in this foundation work of the revolution, I have avoided all places of profit or office, either in the state I live in, or in the United States; kept myself at a distance from all parties and party connexions, and even disregarded all private and inferior concerns: and when we take into view the great work which we have gone through, and feel, as we ought to feel, the just im- portance of 't, we shall then see, that the -ittle wranglings and indecent contentions of personal parley, are as dishonorable to our characters as they are injurious to our repose. It was the cause jf America that made me an author. The THE CRISIS 229 force with which it struck my mind, and the dangerous condi- tion the country appeared to me in, by courting an impossible and an unnatural reconciliation with those who were deter- mined to reduce her, instead of striking out into the only line that could cement and save her, A DECLARATION OF INDEPEN- DENCE, made it impossible for me, feeling as I did, to be silent : and if, in the course of more than seven years, I have rendered her any service, 1 have likewise added something to the reputa- tion of literature, by freely and disinterestedly employing it in the great cause of mankind, and showing that there may be genius without prostitution. Independence always appeared to me practicable and proba- ble ; provided the sentiment of the country could be formed and held to the object: and there is no instance in the world, where a people so extended, and wedded to former habits of thinking, and under such a variety of circumstances, were so instantly and effectually pervaded by a turn in politics, as in the case of independence, and who supported their opinion, undiminished, through such a succession of good and ill fortune, till they crowned it with success. But as the scenes of war are closed, and every man preparing for home and happier times, I therefore take my leave of the subject. I have most sincerely followed it from beginning to end, and through all its turns and windings . and whatever country I may hereafter be in, I shall always feel an honest pride at the part I have taken and acted, and a gratitude to nature and providence for putting it in my power to be of some use to mankind. COMMON SENSE. PHILADELPHIA, April 19th, 178S NUMBER XVI. TO THE PEOPLE OF AMERICA. IN " Bivington's New York Gazette," of December 6th, is a publication, under the appearance of a letter from London, dated September 30th; and is on a subject which demands the attention of the United States. The public will remember that a treaty of commerce between the United States and England was set on foot last spring, and that until the said treaty could be completed, a bill was brought into the British parliament by the then chancellor of the ex- chequer, Mr. Pitt, to admit and legalize (as the case then re- quired) the commerce of the United States into the British ports and dominions. But neither the one nor the other has been completed. The commercial treaty is either broken off or re- mains as it began; and the bill in parliament has been thrown aside. And in lieu thereof a selfish system of English politics has started up, calculated to fetter the commerce of America, by engrossing to England the carrying trade of the American produce to the West India islands. Among the advocates for this last measure is Lord Sheffield, a member of the British parliament, who has published a pam- phlet entitled " Observations on the Commerce of the American States." The pamphlet has two objects; the one is to allure the Americans to purchase British manufactures ; and the other to spirit up the British Parliament to prohibit the citizens of the United States from trading to the West India islands. Viewed in this light, the pamphlet, though in some parts dexterously written, is an absurdity. It offends in the very act of endeavoring to ingratiate ; and his lordship, as a politician, ought not to have suffered the two objects to have appeared together. The letter alluded to, contains extracts from the pamphlet, with high encomiums on Lord Sheffield, for labori- ously endeavoring (as the letter styles it) " to show the mighty advantages of retaining the carrying trade." Since the publication of this pamphlet in England, the com- merce of the United States to the West Indies, in American vessels, has been prohibited; and all intercourse, except in British bottoms, the property of, and navigated by British subjects, cut off. That a country has a right to be as foolish as it pleases, has been proved by the practice of England for many years past: in her island situation, sequestered from the world, she forgets that her whispers are heard by other nations; and in her plans of politics and commerce, she seems not to know, that other votes are necessary besides her own. America would be equally as foolish as Britain, were she to suffer so great a degradation on her flag, and such a stroke on the freedom of her commerce, to pass without a balance. We admit the right of any nation to prohibit the commerce of another into its own dominions, where there are no treaties to the contrary; but as this right belongs to one side as well as THE CRISIS. 231 the other, there is always a way left to bring avarice and inso- lence to reason. But the ground of security which Lord Sheffield has chosen to erect his policy upon, is of a nature which ought, and I think must, awaken, in every American, a just and strong sense of national dignity, Lord Sheffield appears to be sensible, that in advising the British nation and parliament to engross to them- selves so great a part of the carrying trade of America, he is attempting a measure which cannot succeed, if the politics of the United States be properly directed to counteract the assump- tion. But, says he, in his pamphlet, " It will be a long time before the American states can be brought to act as a nation, neither are they to be feared as such by us." What is this more or less than to tell us, that while we have no national system of commerce, the British will govern our trade by their own laws and proclamations as they please. The quotation disclose a truth too serious to be overlooked, and too mischievous not to be remedied. Among other circumstances which led them to this discovery, none could operate so effectually as the injudicious, uncandid and indecent opposition made by sundry persons in a certain state, to the recommendations of congress last winter, for an import duty of five per cent. It could not but explain to the British a weakness in the national power of America, and en- courage them to attempt restrictions on her trade, which other- wise they would not have dared to hazard. Neither is there any state in the union, whose policy was more misdirected to its interest that the state I allude to, because her principal support is the carrying trade, which Britain, induced by the want of a well-centred power in the United States to protect and secure, is now attempting to take away. It fortunately happened t^and to no state in the union more than the state in question) that the terms of peace were agreed on before the opposition appeared, otherwise, there cannot be a doubt, that if the same idea of the diminished authority of America had occurred to them at that time as has ocurred to them since, but they would have made the same grasp at the fisheries, as they have done at the carrying trade. It is surprising that an authority which can be supported with so much ease, and so little expense, and capable of such exten- sive advantages to the country should be cavilled at by those 232 THE CRISIS. whose duty it is to watch over it, and whose existence as a people depends upon it. But this, perhaps, will ever be the case, till some misfortune awakens us into reason, and the in- stance now before us is but a gentle beginning of what America must expect, unless she guards her union with nicer care and stricter honor. United, she is formidable, and that with the least possible charge a nation can be so: separated, she is a medley of individual nothings, subject to the sport of foreign nations. It is very probable that the ingenuity of commerce may have iound out a method to evade and supersede the intentions of the British, in interdicting the trade with the West India islands. The language of both being the same, and their customs well understood, the vessels of one country may, by deception, pass for those of another. But this would be a practice too debasing for a sovereign people to stoop to, and too profligate not to be discountenanced. An illicit trade, under any shape it can be placed, cannot be carried on without a violation of truth. America is now sovereign and independent, and ought to con- duct her affairs in a regular style of character. She has the same right to say that no British vessel shall enter her ports, or that no British manufactures shall be imported, but in American bottoms, the property of, and navigated by American subjects, as Britain has to say the same thing respecting the West Indies. Or she may lay a duty of ten, fifteen, or twenty shillings per ton (exclusive of other duties) on every British vessel coming from any port of the West Indies, where she is not permitted to trade, the said tonnage to continue as long on her side as the prohibition continues on the other. But it is only by acting in union, that the usurpations of foreign nations on the freedom of trade can be counteracted, and security extended to the commerce of America. And when we view a flag, which to the eye is beautiful, and to contemplate its rise and origin inspires a sensation of sublime delight, our national honor must unite with our interest to prevent injury to the one, or insult to the other. COMMON SBNSB. NKW YOBK, December 9, 178S. END OF THE CHISI3. RIGHTS OF MAN: BKTNO AN ANSWER TO MR. BURKE'S ATTACK ON THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. PART L GEORGE WASHINGTON, PRESIDENT OP TEE UNITED STATES OF AMEBICA. Sra,- I present you a small treatise in defence of those principles of freedom which your exemplary virtue hath so eminently contributed to establish. That the rights of man may become as universal as your benevolence can vishv and that you may enjoy the happiness of seeing the new world regen- erate the old, is the prayer of Sir, Your mucn obliged, and Obedient humble servant, THOMAS PAINE. RIGHTS OF MAN. PART L AMONG tfc iWvilities by which nations or individuals pro- voke and iritaus each other, Mr. Burke's pamphlet on the French revolution is an extraordinary instance. Neither the people of France, nor the national assembly, were troubling themselves abouc the affairs of England, or the English parlia- ment; and why Mr. Burke should commence an unprovoked attack upon them, both in parliament and in public, is a con- duct that cannot be pardoned on the score of manners, nor justified on that of policy. There is scarcely an epithet of abuse to be found in the Eng- lish language, with which Mr. Burke has not loaded the French nation and the national assembly. Everything which rancor, prejudice, ignorance or knowledge could suggest, are poured forth in the copious fury of near four hundred pages. In the strain and on the plan Mr. Burke was writing, he might have wrote on to as many thousand. When the tongue or the pen is let loose in a frenzy of passion, it is the man, and not the subject that becomes exhausted. Hitherto Mr. Burke has been mistaken and disappointed in the opinions he has formed on the affairs of France; but such is the ingenuity of his hope, or the malignancy of his despair, that it furnishes him with new pretences to go on. There was a time when it was impossible to make Mr. Burke believe there would be any revolution in France. His opinion, then was, that the French had neither spirit to undertake it, nor forti- tude to support it ; and now that there is one, he seeks an escape by condemning it. Not sufficiently content with abusing the national assembly, a great part of his work is taken up with abusing Dr. Price (one of the best hearted men that exist) and the two societies in England, known by the name of the Revolution and the Constitutional societies Dr. Price had 233 BIGHTS OF MAN. 1789, being the anniversary of what is called in England the revolution, which took place in 1688. Mr. Burke, speaking of this sermon, says, " the political divine proceeds dogmatically to assert, that, by the principles " the revolution, the people of England have acquired three fundamental right! 1st, To choose our own governors. 2nd, To cashier them for misconduct 3rd, To frame a government for ourselves." Dr. Price does not say that the right to do these things xists in this or in that person, or in this or in that description of persons, but that it exists in the whole that it is a right resi- dent in the nation. Mr. Burke, on the contrary, denies that such a right exists in the nation, either in whole or in part, or that it exists anywhere; and what is still more strange and marvellous, he says, that " the people of England utterly dis- claim such right, and that they will resist the practical assertion of it with their lives and fortunes." That men will take up arms, and spend their lives and fortunes not to maintain their rights, but to maintain that they have not rights, is an entire new species of discovery, and suited to the paradoxical genius of Mr. Burke. The method which Mr. Burke takes to prove that the people of England have no such rights, and that such rights do not exist in the nation either in whole 01 in part, or anywhere at all. is of the same marvellous and monstrous kind with what he has already said, for his arguments are, that the persons, or the generation of persons in whom they did exist, are dead, and with them the right is dead also. To prove this, he quotes a declaration made by parliament about an hundred years ago, to William and Mary in these words: "The lords spiritual and temporal, and commons, do, in the name of the people afore- said (meaning the people of England then living) most hum- bly and faithfully submit themselves, their heirs and posterity FOREVER " He also quotes a clause of another act of parlia- ment made in the same reign, the terms of which, he says, ' bind us (meaning the people of that day) our heirs and our posterity \ to them, their heirs and posterity, to the end of them " Mr. Burke considers his point sufficiently established by .pro- ducing those clauses, which he enforces by saying that they exclude the right of the nation forever ; and not yet content with making such declarations, repeated over and over again, he urther says, " that if the people of England possessed such BIGHTS OF MAN. 239 a right before the revolution " (which he cknowledges to have been the case, not only in England, but throughout Europe at an early period) " yet that the English nation did, at the time ef the revolution, most solemnly renounce and abdicate it, for themselves, and for all their prosterity forever" As Mr. Burke occasionally applies the poison drawn from his horrid principles (if it is not a profanation to call them by the name of principles) not only to the E glish nation, but to the French revolution and the national assembly, and charges that august, illuminated and illuminating body of men with the epithet of usurpers, I shall sans ceremonie, place another system of principles in opposition to his. The English parliament of 1688 did a certain thing, which for themselves and their constituents, they had a right to do, and which appeared right should be done; but, in addition to this right, which they possessed by delegation, they set up another right by assumption, that of binding and controlling posterity to the end of time. The case, therefore livides itself into two parts; the right which they possessed i - delegatio and the right which they set up by assumption The first w admitted; but with respect to the second, I reply: There never did, nor never can exist a parliament, or any description of men, or any generation of men, in any countr", possessed of the right or the power of binding or controlling posterity to the "end of time," or of commanding forever how the world shall be governed, or who shall govern it; and therefore all such clauses, acts, or declarations, by which the makers of them attempt to do what they have neither the right nor the power to do, nor the power to execute, are in them- selves null and void. Every age and generation mus+ be as free to act for itself, in all cases, as the ages and generations which preceded it. The vanity and presumption of governing beyond the grave, is the most ridiculous and insolent of all tyrannies. Man has no property in man; neither has any generation a property in the generations which are to follow. The parlia- ment or the people of 1688, or of any other period, had no more right to dispose of the people of the present day, or to bind or to control them in any shape whatever than the parliament or the people of the present day have to dispose of, bind or con- trol those who ire to live a hundred or a thousand years hence. Every generation is and must be competent to all the purposes which its occasions require. It is the living and not 240 EIGHTS OF MAN. the dead, that ar to be accommodated. When man ceases to be, his powers and his wants cease with him ; and having no longer any participation in the concerns of this world, he has no longer any authority in directing who shall be its governors, or how its government shall be organized, or how administered. I am not contending for, nor against, any form of govern- ment, nor for nor against any party, here or elsewhere. That which a whole nation chooses to do, it has a right to do. Mr. Burke denies it. Where then does the right exist 1 I am con- tending for the right of the living and against their being willed away, and controlled and contracted for, by the manuscript- assumed authority of the dead ; and Mr. Burke is contending for the authority of the dead over the rights and freedom of the living. There was a time when kings disposed of their crowns by will upon their death-beds, and consigned the people like beasts of the field, to whatever successor they appointed. This is now so exploded as scarcely to be remembered, and so monstrous as hardly to be believed : but the parliamentary clauses upon which Mr. Burke builds his political church are of the same nature. The laws of every country must be analogous to some com- mon principle. In England no parent or master, nor all the authority of parliament, omnipotent as it has called itself, can bind or control the personal freedom even of an individual be- yond the age of twenty-one years : on what ground of right 'hen could the parliament of 1688, or any other parliament, bind all posterity for ever ? Those who have quitted the world, and those who are not arrived yet in it, are as remote from each other as the utmost stretch of mortal imagination can conceive : what possible obligation then can exist between them, what rule or principle can be laid down, that two nonentities, the one out of exist- ence and the other not in, and who never can meet in this world, that the one should control the other to the end of time ^ In England, it is said that money cannot be taken out of the pockets of the people without their consent ; but who author- ized, and who could authorize the parliament of 1688 to con- trol and take away the freedom of posterity, and limit and con- fine their ri^ht of acting in certain cases forever, who were not in existence to give or withnoid tneir consent A. greater absurdity cannot present itself to the understand- ing of man than what Mr. Burke offers to his readers. He RIGHTS OF MAN. 241 tells them, and he tells the world to come, that a certain body of men, who existed a hundred years ago, made a law, and that there does not now exist in the nation, nor never will nor never can, a power to alter it. Under how many subtleties, or ab- surdities, has the divine right to govern been imposed on the Credulity of mankind : Mr. Burke has discovered a new one, and he has shortened his journey to Rome, by appealing to the power of this infallible parliament of former days ; and he pro- duces what it has done as of divine authority ; for that power must be certainly more than human, which no human power to the end of time can alter. But Mr. Burke has done some service, not to his cause, but to his country, by bringing those clauses into public view. They .serve to demonstrate how necessary it is at all times to watch against the attempted encroachment of power, and *o prevent its running to excess. It is somewhat extraordinary that the offence for which James II. was expelled, that of setting up power by assumption, should be re-enacted under another shape and form by the parliament that expelled him. It shows that the rights of man were but imperfectly understood at the re- volution ; for certain it is that the right which that parliament set up by assumption (for by delegation it had not, and could not have it, because none could give it) over the persons and freedom of posterity forever, was of the same tyrannical un- founded kind which James attempted to set up over the parlia- ment and the nation, and for which he was expelled. The only difference is (for in principle they differ not) that the one was an usurper over the living, and the other over the unborn ; and as the one has no better authority to stand upon than the other, both of them must be equally null and void, and of no effect. From what or whence does Mr. Burke prove the right of any human power to bind posterity forever? He has produced his clauses ; but he must produce also his proofs that such a right existed, and show how it existed. If it ever existed it must now exist ; for whatever appertains to the nature of man can- not be annihilated by man. It is the nature of man to die, and he will continue to die as long as he continues to be born. But Mr. Burke has set up a sort of political Adam, in whom all posterity are bound forever ; he must therefore prove that his Adam possessed such a power or such a right. The weaker any cord is, the less it will bear to be ^ retched, 16 242 RIGHTS OF MAN. and the worse is the policy to stretch it unless it is intended tr break it. Had a person contemplated the overthrow of Mr Burke's positions he would have proceeded as Mr. Burke has* done. He would have magnified the authorities on purpose to have called the right of them into question ; and the instant the question of right was started the authorities must have been given up. It requires but a very small glance of thought to perceive that although laws made in one generation often continue in force through succeeding generations, yet they continue to derive their force from the consent of the living. A law not repealed continues in force, not because it cannot be repealed, but. because it is not repealed , and the non-repealing passes for consent. But Mr. Burke's clauses have not even this qualincation in their favor. They become null by attempting to become im- mortal. The nature of them precludes consent. They destroy the right which they might have by grounding it on a right which they cannot have. Immortal power is not a human right, and therefore cannot be a right of parliament The parliament of 1688 might as well have passed an act to have authorized itself to live forever, as to make their authority live forever. All, therefore, that can be said of them is that they are a form- ality of words of as much import as if those who used tnem had addressed a congratulation to themselves, and, in the oriental style of antiquity, had said, O ! parliament, live for ever ! The circumstances of the world are continually changing, and the opinions of men change also ; and as government is for the living, and not for the dead, it is the living only that has any right in it That which may be thought right and found convenient in one age, may be thought wrong and found incon- venient in another. In such cases, who is to decide, the living, or the dead 1 As almost one hundred pages of Mr. Burke's book are em- ployed upon these clauses, it will consequently follow, that if the clauses themselves, so far as they set up an assumed, usurped, dominion over posterity forever, are unauthoritative, and in their nature null and void, that all his voluminous inferences and declamation drawn therefrom, or founded thereon, are null and void also : and on this ground I rest the matter. We now come more particularly to the affairs of France. Mr. Burke's book has the appearance of being written as in- struction to the French nation : but if I may permit myself the RIGHTS OF MAN. 243 use of an extravagant metaphor, suited to the extravagance of the case, it is darkness attempting to illuminate light. While I am writing this, there is accidentally before me some proposals for a declaration of rights by the Marquis de la Fay- ette (I ask his pardon for using his former address, and do it only for distinction's sake) to the national assembly on the llth of July, 1789, three days before the taking of the Bastile ; and I cannot but be struck how opposite the sources are from which that gentleman and Mr. Burke draw their principles. Instead of referring to musty records and mouldy parchments, to prove that the rights of the living are lost, " renounced and abdicated forever" by those who are now no more, as Mr. Burke has done, M. de la Fayette applies to the living world, and emphat- ically says, " Call to mind the sentiments which nature has en- graved in the heart of every citizen, and which take a new force when they are solemnly recognized by all ; for a nation to love liberty, it is sufficient that she knows it ; and to be free it is sufficient that she wills it." How dry, barren and obscure, is the sourqe from which Mr. Burke labors ; and how ineffec- tual, though embellished with flowers, is all his declamation and his argument, compared with these clear, concise and soul-ani- mating sentiments : few and short as they are, they lead on to a vast field of generous and manly thinking, and do not finish, like Mr. Burke's periods, with music in the ear, and nothing in the heart. As I have introduced the mention of M. de la Fayette, I will take the liberty of adding an anecdote respecting his farewell address to the congress of America in 1783, and which occurred fresh to my mind when I saw M v Burke's thundering attack on the French Revolution. M. de la Fayette went to America at an early period of the war, and continued a volunteer in her service to the end. His conduct throughout the whole of that enterprise is one of the most extraordinary that is to be found in the history of a young man, scarcely then twenty years of age. Situated in a country that was like the lap of sensual pleasure, and with the means of enjoying it, how few are there to be found that would exchange such a scene for the woods and wilderness of America, and pass the flowery years of youth in unprofitable danger and hardship ! But such is the fact. When the war ended, and he was on the point of taking his final departure, he presented himself to congress, and contem- plating, in his affectionate farewell, the revolution he had seen, 244 RIGHTS OF MAN. expressed himself in these words : " May this great monument raised to Liberty, serve as a lesson to tlie oppressor, and an ex- ample to the oppressed /" When this address came to the hands of Dr. Franklin, who was then in France, he applied to Count Vergenues to have it inserted in the French "Gazette," but never could obtain his consent. The fact was, that Count Vergennes was an aristocratic despot, at home, and dreaded the example of the Ame ican revolution in France, as certain other persons now dread the example of the French revolution in England j and Mr. Burke's tribute of fear (for in this light it must be considered) runs parallel with Count Vergennes' refusal. But to return more particularly to his work. " We have seen (says Mr. Burke) the French rebel against a mild and lawful monarch, with more fury, outrage and insult, than any people has been known to raise against the most il- legal usurper, or the most sanguinary tyrant." This is one among a thousand other instances, in which Mr. Burke shows that he is ignorant of the springs and principles of the French Revolution. It was not against Louis XVI. but against the despotic prin- ciples of the government, that the nation revolted. These prin- ciples had not their origin in him, but in the original establish ment, many centuries back , and they were become too deeply rooted to be removed, and the Augean stable of parasites and plunderers too abominably filthy to be cleansed, by anything short of complete and universal revolution. When it becomes necessary to do a thing, the whole heart should join in the measure, or it should not be attempted. That crisis was then arrived, and there remained no choice but to act with determined vigor or not to act at all. The king was known to be the friend of the nation, and this circumstance was favorable to the enterprise. Perhaps no man brought up in the style of an absolute king, ever possessed a heart so little disposed to the exercise of that species of power as the present king of France. But the principles of the government itself still remained the same. The monarch and monarchy were distinct and separate things ; and it was against the established despotism of the latter, and not against the person or principles of the former, that the revolt commenced, and the revolution has been carried on. Mr. Burke does not attend to this distinction between men r^d principles, and therefore he does not see trial a revolt may RIGHTS OF MAN. 245 take place against the despotism of the latter, while there lies no charge of despotism against the former. The natural moderation of Louis XVI. contributed nothing to alter the hereditary despotism of the monarchy. All the tyrannies of former reigns, acted under that hereditary despot- ism, were still liable to be revived in the hands of a successor. It was not the respite of a reign that would satisfy France, en- lightened as she was then become. A casual discontinuance of the practice of despotism, is not a discontinuance of its prin- ciples ; the former depends on the virtue of the individual who is in immediate possession of the power ; the latter, on the virtue and fortitude of the nation. In the case of Charles I. and James II. of England, the revolt was against the personal despotism of the men ; whereas in France it was against the here- ditary despotism of the established government. But men who can consign over the rights of posterity forever on the authority of a mouldy parchment, like Mr. Burke, are not qualified to judge of this revolution. It takes in a field too vast for their views to explore, and proceeds with a mightiness of reason they cannot keep pace with. But there are many points of view in which this revolution may be considered. When despotism has established itself for ages in a country, as in France, it is not in the person of the king only that it resides. It has the appearance of being so in show, and in nominal authority . but it is not so in practice, and in fact. It has its standard everywhere. Every office and department has its despotism, founded upon custom and usage. Every place has its Bastile, and every Bastile its des- pot. The original heriditary despotism resident in the person of the king, divides and sub-divides itself into a thousand shapes and forms, till at last the whole of it is acted by depu- tation. This was the case in France ; and against this species of despotism, proceeding on through an endless labyrinth of office till the source of it is scarcely perceptible, there is no mode of redress. It strengthens itself by assuming the appear- ance of duty, and tyrannizes under the pretence of obeying. When a man reflects on the condition which France was in from the nature of her government, he will see other causes for revolt than those which immediately connect themselves with the person or character of Louis XVI. There were, if I may so express it, a thousand despotisms to be reformed in France, which had grown up under the hereditary despotism of the 246 BIGHTS OF MAN. monarchy, - > " become so rooted as to be in a great measure inde- pendent of it. Between the monarchy, the parliament, and the church, there was a rivalship of despotism : besides the feudal despotism operating locally, and the ministerial despotism op- erating everywhere. But Mr. Burke by considering the king as the only possible object of a revolt, speaks as if France was a village, in which everything that passed must be known to its commanding officer, and no oppression could be acted but what he could immediately control. Mr. Burke might have been in the Bastile his whole life, as well under Louis XVI. as Louis XIV., and neither the one nor the other have known that such a man as Mr. Burke existed. The despotic principles of the government were the same in both reigns, though the disposi- tions of the men were as remote as tyranny and benevolence. What Mr. Burke considers as a reproach to the French revo- lution, that of bringing it forward under a reign more mild than the preceding ones, is one of its highest honors. The re- volutions that have taken place in other European countries, have been excited by personal hatred. The rage was against the man, and he became the victim. But, in the instance of France, we see a revolution generated in the rational contem- plation of the rights of man, and distinguishing from the be- ginning between persons and principles. But Mr. Burke appears to have no idea of principles, when he is contemplating governments. " Ten years ago," says he, " I could have felicitated France on her having a government, without inquiring what the nature of that government was or how it was administered." Is this the language of a rational man 1 Is it the language of a heart feeling as it ought to feel for the rights and happiness of the human race? On this ground, Mr. Burke must compliment every government in the world, while the victims who suffer under them, whether sold into slavery or tortured out of existence, are wholly forgotten. It is power and not principles, that Mr. Burke venerates ; and under this abominable depravity, he is disqualified to judge between them. Thus much for his opinion as to the occasion of of the French revolution. I now proceed to other considertions. I know a place in America called Point-no-Point ; because as you proceed along the shore, gay and flowery as Mr. Burke's language, it continually recedes, and presents itself at a dis- tance a-head; and when you have got as far as you can go, there is no point at all. Just thus is it with Mr. Burke'a EIGHTS OF MAN. 247 three hundred and fifty-six pages. It is therefore difficult to reply to him. But as the points that he wishes to establish may be inferred from what he abuses, it is in his paradoxes that we must look for his arguments. As to the tragic paintings by which Mr. Burke has outraged his own imagination, and seeks to work upon that of his read- ers, they are very well calculated for theatrical representation, where facts are manufactured for the sake of show, and ac- commodated to produce, through the weakness of sympathy, a weeping effect. But Mr. Burke should recollect that he is writing history, and not plays; and that his readers will expect truth, and not the spouting rant of high-toned declamation. When we see a man dramatically lamenting in a publication intended to be believed, that " The age of chivalry is gone;" that " the glory of Europe is extinguished forever ;" that " the unbought grace of life (if any one knows what it is,) the cheap defence of nations, the nurse of manly sentiment and heroic en- terprise is gone!" And all this because the Quixotic age of chivalric nonsense is gone, what opinion can we form of his judgment, or what regard can we pay to his facts'? In the rhapsody of his imagination, he has discovered a world of windmills, and his sorrows are, that there are no Quixotes to attack them. But if the age of aristocracy like that of chivalry, should fall, and they had originally some connection, Mr. Burke, the trumpeter of the order, may continue his parody to the end, and finish with exclaiming " Othello's occupation's gone!" Notwithstanding M*- Burke's horrid paintings, when the French revolution is compared with that of other countries, the astonishment will be, that it is marked with so few sacrifices; but this astonishment will cease when we reflect that it was principles, and not persons, that were the meditated objects of destruction The mind of the nation was acted upon by a higher stimulus than what the consideration of persons could inspire, and sought a higher conquest than could be produced by the downfall of an enemy - Among the few who fell, there do not appear to be any that were intentionally singled out. They all of them had their fate in the circumstances of the mo- ment, and were not pursued with that long, cold-blooded, un- abated revenge which pursued the unfortunate Scotch, in the affair of 1745. Through the whole of Mr. Burke's book I do not observe fa* the Bastile is mentioned more than once, and that with a 248 RIGHTS OF MAN. kind of implication as if he was sorry it is pulled down, and wished it was built up again. " We have rebuilt Newgate (says he) and tenanted the mansion; and we have prisons almost as strong as the Bastile for those who dare to libel the Queen of France."* As to what a madman, like the person called Lord George Gordon, might say, and to whom Newgate is rather a bedlam than a prison, it is unworthy a rational consideration. It was a madman that libelled and that is sufficient apology, and it afforded an opportunity for confining him, which was the thing wished for: but certain it is that Mr. Burke, who does not call himself a madman, whatever other people may do, has libelled, in the most unprovoked manner, and in the grossest style of the most vulgar abuse, the whole representative author- ity of France; and yet Mr. Burke takes his seat in the British House of Commons ! From his violence and his grief, his silence on some points and his excess on others, it is difficult not to believe that Mr. Burke is sorry, extremely sorry, that arbitrary power, the power of the pope and the Bastile, are pulled down. Not one glance of compassion, not one commiserating reflec- tion, that I can find throughout his book, has he bestowed on those that lingered out the most wretched of lives, a life without hope, in the most miserable of prisons. It is painful to behold a man employing his talents to corrupt himself. Nature has been kinder to Mr Burke than he has to her. He is not affected by the reality of distress touching upon his heart, but by the showy resemblance of it striking his imagination. He pities the plumage but forgets the dying bird. Accustomed to kiss the aristocratical hand that hath purlioned him from him- self, he degenerates into a composition of art, and the genuine soul of nature forsakes him. His hero or his heroine must be a tragedy-victim expiring in show, and not the real prisoner of misery, sliding into death in the silence of a dungeon. * Since writing the above, two other places occur in Mr. Blake's pamphlet in which the name of Bastile is mentioned, but in the same manner. In the one, he introduces it in a sort of obscure question, and asks "Will any ministers who now serve such a king with but a decent appearance of re- spect, cordially obey the orders of those whom but the other day, in his name, they had committed to the Bastile?" In the other the taking it is mentioned as implying criminality in the French guards who assisted in demolishing it "They have not, "says he, "forgot the taking the king's castles at Paris. " Thia is Mr. Burke, who pretends to write on constitu- tional freedom. RIGHTS OF MAN. 249 As Mr. Burke has passed over the whole transaction of the Bastile (and his silence is nothing in his favor) and has enter- tained his readers with reflections on supposed facts, distorted into real falsehoods, I will give, since he has not, some account of the circumstances which preceded that transaction. They will serve to show that less mischief could scarce have accom- panied such an event when considered with the treacherous and hostile aggravations of the enemies of the revolution. The mind can hardly picture to itself a more tremendous scene than what the city of Paris exhibited at the time of tak- ing the Bastile, and for two days before and after, nor conceive the possibility of its quieting so soon. At a distance, this transaction has appeared only as an act of heroism standing on Itself : and the close political connexion it had with the revo- 'ution is lost in the brilliancy of the achievement. But we are to consider it as the strength of the parties, brought man to oian, and contending for the issue. The Bastile was to be either the prize or the prison of the assailants. The downfall of it included the idea of the downfall of despotism ; and this compounded image was become as figuratively united, as Bun- y-an's Doubting Castle and giant Despair. The national assembly before and at the time of taking the Bastile, were sitting at Versailles, twelve miles distant from Paris. About a week before the rising of the Parisians and their taking the Bastile, is was discovered that a plot was forming, at the head of which was the count d'Artois, the king's youngest brother, for demolishing the national assembly, seizing its members, and thereby crushing, by a coup de main, all hopes and prospects of forming a free government. For the sake of humanity, as well as of freedom, it is well this plan did not succeed. Examples are not wanting to show how dreadfully vindictive and cruel are all old governments, when they are successful against what they call a revolt. This plan must have been some time in contemplation ; be- cause, in order to carry it into execution, it was necessary to collect a large military force round Paris, and to cut ofi the communication between that city and the national assembly at Versailles. The troops destined for this service were chiefly the foreign troops in the pay of France, and who for this par- ticular purpose, were drawn from the distant provinces where they were then stationed. When they were collected, to the amount of between twenty-five and thirty thousand, it waa 250 BIGHTS OF MAN. judged time to put the plan in execution. The ministry who were then in office, and who were friendly to the revolution, were instantly dismissed, and a new ministry formed of those who had concerted the project: among who was count de Broglio, and to his share was given the command of those troops. The character of this man, as described to me in a letter which I communicated to Mr. Burke before he began to write his book, and from an authority which Mr. Burke well knows was good, was that of " a high flying aristocrat, cool, and capable of every mischief." While these matters were agitating, the national assembly stood in the most perilous and critical situation that a body of men can be supposed to act in. They were the devoted victims, and they knew it. They had the hearts and wishes of their conntry on their side, but military authority they had none. The guards of Broglio surrounded the hall where the assembly sat, ready, at the word of command, to seize their persons, as had been done the year before to the parliament in Paris. Had the national assembly deserted their trust, or had they exhibited signs of weakness or fear, their enemies had been encouraged, and the country depressed. When the situation they stood in, the cause they were engaged in, and the crisis then ready to burst w,hich would determine their personal and political fate, and that of their country, and probably of Europe, are taken into one view, none but a heart callous with prejudice, or corrupted by dependence, can avoid interesting itself in their success. The archbishop of Vienna was at this time president of the national assembly ; a person too old to undergo the scene that a few days, or a few hours, might bring forth. A man of more activity, and bolder fortitude, was necessary ; and the national assembly chose (under the form of vice-president, for the presi- dency still rested in the archbishop) M. de la Fayette ; and this is the only instance of a vice-president being chosen. It was at the moment this storm was pending, July 11, that a declara- tion of rights was brought forward by M. de la Fayette, and is the same which is alluded to in page 51. It was hastily drawn up, and makes only a part of a more extensive declara- tion of rights, agreed upon and adopted afterwards by the national assembly. The particular reason for bringing it for- ward at this moment (M. de la Fayette has since informed me v ; was, that if the national assembly should fall in the threatened RIGHTS OF MAN. 251 destruction that then surrounded it, some trace of its principles might have a chance of surviving the wreck. Everything was now drawing to a crisis. The event was freedom or slavery. On one side an army of nearly thirty thousand men ; on the other an unarmed body of citizens, for the citizens of Paris on whom the national assembly must then immediately depend, were as unarmed and undisciplined as the citizens of London are now. The French guards had given strong symptoms of their being attached to the nationnl cause ; but their numbers were small, not a tenth part of the force which Broglio commanded, and their officers were in the interest of Broglio. Matters being now ripe for execution, the new ministry made their appearance in office. The reader will carry in his mind, that the Bastile was taken the 14th of July : the point of time I am now speaking to, is the 12th. As soon as the news of the change of ministry reached Paris in the afternoon, all the play-houses and places of entertainment, shops and houses, were shut up. The change of ministry was considered as the prelude of hostilities, and the opinion was rightly founded. The foreign troops began to advance towards the city. Th prince de Lambesc, who commanded a body of German cavalry, approached by the palace of Louis XV. which connects itself with some of the streets. In his march he insulted and struck an old man with his sword. The French are remarkable for their respect to old age, and the insolence with which it ap- peared to be done, uniting with the general fermentation they were in, produced a powerful effect, and a cry of to arms/ to arms ! spread itself in a moment over the whole city. Arms they had none, nor scarcely any who knew the use of them; but desperate resolution, when every hope is at stake sup- plies, for a while, the want of arms. Near where the prince de Lambesc was drawn up, were large piles of stones collected for building the new bridge, and with these the people attacked the cavalry. A party of the French guards, upon hearing the tir- ing, rushed from their quarters and joined the people; and night coming on, the cavalry retreated. The streets of Paris, being narrow, are favorable for defence ; and the loftiness of the houses, consisting of many stories, from which great annoyance might be given, secured them against nocturnal enterprises; and the night was spent in providing themselves with every sort of weapon they could make or pro- 252 BIGHTS OF MAN. cure: guns, swordt, blacksmiths' hammers, carpenters' axes, iron crows, pikes, halberds, pitchforks, spits, clubs, . opportunity of pursuing the subject with respect to governinem arising out of society. But it will be first necessary to define what is meant by a constitution. It is not sufficient that we adopt the word; we must fix also a standard signification to it. A constitution is not a thing in nauie only, but in fact. U RIGHTS OF MAN. 267 has not an ideal, but a real existence; and wherever it cannot be produced in a visible form, there is none. A constitution is a thing antecedent to a government, and a government is only the creature of a constitution. The constitution of a country is not the act of its government, but of the people constituting a government. It is the body of elements, to which you can refer, and quote article by article; and contains the principles on which the government shall be established, the form in which it shall be organized, the powers it shall have, the mode of elections, the duration of parliaments, or by what- ever name such bodies may be called; the powers which the executive part of the government shall have; and, in fine, everything that relates to the complete organization of a civil government, and the principle on which it shaft act, and by which it shall be bound. A constitution, therefore, is to a government, what the laws made afterwards by that govern- ment are to a court of judicature. The court of judicature does not make laws, neither can it alter them; it only acts in conformity to the laws made; and the government is in like manner governed by the constitution. Can, then, Mr. Burke produce the English constitution 1 If he cannot, we may fairly conclude that, though it has been so much talked about, no such thing as a constitution exists, or ever did exist, and consequently the people have yet a constitu- tion to form. Mr. Burke will not, I presume, deny the position I have already advanced; namely, that governments arise either out of the people, or over the people. The English government is one of those which arose out of a conquest, and not out of so- ciety, and consequently it arose over the people ; and though it has been much modified from the opportunity of circumstances, since the time of William the Conqueror, the country has never yet regenerated itself, and it is, therefere, without a constitution. I readily perceive the reason why Mr. Burke declined going into the comparison between the English and the French con- stitutions, because he could not but perceive, when he sat down to the task, that no constitution was in existence on his side of the question. His book is certainly bulky enough to have con- tained all he could say on this subject, and it would have been the best manner in which people could have judged of their separate merits. Why then has he declined the only thing that was worth while to write upon? 268 RIGHTS OF MAN. ground he could take, if the advantages were on his side; but the weakest if they were not; and his declining to take it, is either a sign that he could not possess it, or could not maintain it. Mr. Burke has said in his speech last winter in parliament, that when the national assembly of France first met in three orders, (tiers etats, the clergy, and the noblesse) that France had then a good constitution. This shows, among numerous other instances, that Mr. Burke does not understand what a constitution is. The persons so met, were not a constitution, but a convention to make a constitution. The present national Assembly of France is, strictly speak- ing, the personal social compact. The members of it are the delegates of the nation in its original character; future assem- blies will be the delegates of the nation in its organized char- acter. The authority of the present assembly is different to what the authority of future assemblies will be. The authority of the present one is to form a constitution: the authority of future assemblies will be to legislate according to the principles and forms prescribed in that constitution; and if experience should hereafter show that alterations, amendments, or addi- tions are necessary, the constitution will point out the mode by which such thing shall be done, and not leave it to the discre- tionary power of the future government. A government on the principles on which constitutional governments, arising out of society, are established, cannot have the right of altering itself. If it had, it would be arbi- trary. It might make itself what it pleased; and wherever such a right is set up, it shows that there is no constitution. The act by which the English parliament empowered itself to fiit for seven years, shows there is no constitution in England. U might, by the same self authority, have sat any greater number of years or for life. The bill which the present Mr. Pitt brought into parliament some years ago, to reform parlia- ment, was on the same erroneous principle. The right of reform is in the nation in its original character, and the constitutional method would be by a general convention elected for the purpose. There is moreover a paradox in the idea of vitiated bodies reforming themselves. From these preliminaries I proceed to draw some comparisons. I have already spoken of the declaration of rights; and as I mean to be as concise as possible, I shall proceed to other parts of the French constitution. RIGHTS OF MAN. 269 The constitution of France says, that every man who pays a tax of sixty sous per annum (2s. and Qd. English) is an elector. What article will Mr. Burke place against this ? Can anything be more limited, and at the same time more capricious, than what the qualifications of the electors are in England 1 Limited because not one man in a hundred (I speak much within compass) is admitted to vote: capricious because the lowest character that can be supposed to exist, and who has not so much as the visible means of an honest livelihood, is an elector in some places; while, in other places, the man who pays very large taxes, and with a fair known character, and the farmer who rents to the amount of three or four hundred pounds a year, and with a property on that farm to three or four times that amount, is not admitted to be an elector. Everything is out of nature, as Mr. Burke says on another occasion, in this strange chaos, and all sorts of follies are blended with all sorts of crimes. William the Conqueror, and his descendants, parcelled out the country in this manner, and bribed one part of it by what they called charters, to hold the other parts of it the better subjected to their will. This is the reason why so many charters abound in Cornwall. The people were averse to the government estab- lished at the conquest, and the towns were garrisoned and bribed to enslave the country. All the old charters are the badges of this conquest, and it is from this source that the capriciousness of election arises. The French constitution says, that the number of representa- tives for any place shall be in a ratio to the number of taxable inhabitants or electors. What article will Mr. Burke place against this ? The county of Yorkshire, which contains near a million of souls, sends two county members; and so does the county of Rutland, which contains not a hundredth part of that number. The town of old Sarum* which contains not three houses, sends two members ; and the town of Manchester, which contains upwards of sixty thousand souls, is not admitted to send any. Is .there any principle in these things 1 Is there anything by which you can trace the marks of freedom or discover those of wisdom 1 No wonder then Mr. Burke has declined the com- parison, and endeavored to lead his readers from the point, by a wild unsystematical display of paradoxical rhapsodies. The French constitution says that the national assembly shall be elected every two years. What article will Mr. Burke place against v: s? Why, that the nation has no -ight a - ill in the 270 RIGHTS OF MAN. case ; that the government is perfectly arbitrary with respect to this point ; and he can quote for his authority the precedent of a former parliament The French constitution says there shall be no game laws; that the farmer on whose lands wild game shall be found (for it w by the produce of those lands they are fed) shall have a right io what he can take. That there shall be no monopolies of any AittJ, that all trades shall be free, and every man free to follow any occupation by which he can procure an honest livelihood, and in any place, town, or city, throughout the nation. What will Mi*. Burke say to this 1 In England, game is made the pro- perty of those at whose expense it is not fed; and with respect to monopiies, the country is cut up into monopolies. Every chartered town is an aristo ratic monopoly in itself, and the qualification ol electors proceeds out of those chartered monopo- lies. Is this rreeubin ? Is this what Mr. Burke means by a con- stitution t In these charter oJ monopolies a man coming from another part of -lie country, is hunted from them as if he were a foreign enemy. An Englishman is not free in his own conntry : every one of those places piesents a barrier in his way, and tells him he is not a freeman that he has no rights. Within these mon- opolies are other monopolies. In a city, such for instance as Bath, which contains between twenty and thirty thousand in habitants, the right of electing representatives to parliament is monopolized into about thirty onoi persons. And within these monopolies are still others. A man, even of the same town, whose parents were not in circumstances to give him an occupa- tion, is debarred, in many cases, from the natural right of acquir- ing one, be his genius or industry what it may. Are these things examples to hold ouc to a country regen crating itself from slavery,* like France? Certainly they are not ; and certain am I, that when the people of England come to reflect upon them, they will, like France, annihilate those badges of ancient oppression, those traces of a conquered nation. Had Mr. Burke possessed talents similar to the author "On the Wealth of Nations," he would have comprehended all the parts which enter into, and, by assemblage, form a constitution. He would have reasoned from minutiae to magnitude. It is not from his prejudices only, but from his disorderly cast of his genius, that he is unfitted for the subject he writes upon. Even his genius is without a constitution. It is a genius at random, EIGHTS OF MAN. 271 and not a genius constituted. But he must say something He has therefore mounted in the air like a balloon, to draw the eyes of the multitude from the ground they stand upon. Much is to be learned from the French constitution. Con- quest and tyranny transplanted themselves with William the conqueror, from Normandy into England, and the country is yet disfigured with the marks. May then the example of all France contribute to regenerate the freedom which a province of it destroyed 1 ? The French constitution says, that to preserve the national representation from being corrupt, no member of the national assembly shall be an officer of government, a placeman or a pensioner. What will Mr. Burke place against this 1 ? I will whisper his answer : loaves and fishes. Ah ! this government of loaves and fishes has more mischief in it than people have yet reflected on. The national assembly has made the discovery, and holds out an example to the world. Had governments agreed to quarrel on purpose to fleece their countries by taxes, they could not have succeeded better than they have done. Everything in the English government appears to me the reverse of what it ought to be, and of what it is said to be. The parliament, imperfectly and capriciously elected as it is, is never- theless supposed to hold the national purse in trust for the nation ; but in the manner in which an English parliament is constructed, it is like a man being both mortgager and mortgagee; and in the case of misapplication of trust, it is the criminal sitting in judgment on himself. If those persons who vote the supplies are the same persons who receive the supplies when voted, and are to account for the expenditure of those supplies to those who voted them, it is themselves accountable to themselves, and the "Comedy of Errors" concludes with the pantomine of " Hush." Neither the ministerial party, nor the opposition will touch upon this case. The national purse is the common hack which each mounts upon. It is like what the country people call "Ride and tie You ride a little way and then I." They order these things better in France. The French constitution says that the right of war and peace is in the nation. Where else should it reside, but in those who are to pay the expense? In England the right is said to reside in a metaphor, shown at the Tower for sixpence or a shilling a-piece; so are the lions; and it would be a step nearer to reason to say it resided in them, 272 RIGHTS OF MAN. for any inanimate metaphor is no more than a hat or a cap. "We can all see the absurdity of worshipping Aaron's molten calf, or Nebuchadnezzar's golden image; but why do men con- tinue to practice on themselves the absurdities they despise in others'? It may with reason be said, that in the manner the English nation is represented, it matters not where this right resides, whether in the crown or in the parliament. War is the com- mon harvest of all those who participate in the division and expenditure of public money, in all countries. It is the art of conquering at home: the object of it is an increase of revenue: and as revenue cannot be increased without taxes, a pretence must be made for expenditures. In reviewing the history of the English government, its wars and taxes, an observer, not blinded by prejudice, nor warped by interest, would declare that taxes were not raised to carry on wars, but that wars were raised to carry on taxes. Mr. Burke, as a member of the house of commons, is a part of the English government; and though he professes himself an enemy to war, he abuses the French constitution, which seeks to explode it. He holds up the English government as a model in all its parts, to France ; but he should first know the remarks which the French make upon it. They contend, in favor of their own, that the portion of liberty enjoyed in England, is just enough to enslave a country by, more productively than by despotism ; and that as the real object of a despotism is revenue, a government so formed obtains more than it could either by direct despotism or in a full state of freedom, and is, therefore, on the ground of interest, opposed to both. They account also for the readiness which always appears in such governments for engaging in wars, by remarking on the different motives which produce them. In despotic governments, wars are the effects of pride ; but in those governments in which they become the means of taxation, they acquire thereby a more permanent promptitude. The French constitution, therefore, to provide against both those evils, has taken away from kings and ministers the power of declaring war, and placed the right where the expense must fall. When the question on the right of war and peace was agitat- ing in the national assembly, the people of England appeared to be much interested in the event, and highly to applaud th^ RIGHTS OF MAN. 273 decision. As a principle, it applies as much to one country as to another. William the Conqueror, as a conqueror, held this power of war and peace in himself, and his descendents have ever since claimed it as a right. Although Mr. Burke has asserted the right of the parliament at the revolution to bind and control the nation and posterity for ever, he denies at the same time, that the parliament or the nation has any right to alter, what he calls, the succession of the crown, in any thing but in part, or by a sort of modification. By his taking this ground, he throws the case back to the Nor- man conquest; and by thus running a line of succession, spring- ing from William the Conqueror to the present day, he makes, it necessary to inquire who and what William the Conqueror was, and where he came from : and into the origin, history and nature of what are called prerogatives. Everything must have had a beginning, and the fog of time and of antiquity should be penetrated to discover it. Let then Mr. Burke bring forward his William of Normandy, for it is to this origin that his argu- ment goes. It also unfortunately happens in running this line of succession, that another line, parallel thereto, presents itself, which is, that if the succession runs in a line of the conquest the nation runs in a line of being conquered, and it ought to rescue itself from this reproach. But it will perhaps be said, that though the power of declar- ing war descends into the heritage of the conquest, it is held in check by the right of the parliament to withhold the supplies. It will always happen, when a thing is originally wrong, that amendments do not make it right, and often happens that they do as much mischief one way as good the other; and such is the case here, for if the one rashly declares war as a matter of right, and the other peremptorily withholds the supplies as a matter of right, the remedy becomes as bad or worse than the disease. The one forces the nation to a combat, and the other ties its hands ; but the more probable issue is, that the contrast will end in a collusion between the parties, and be made a screen to both. On this question of war, three things are to be considered; 1st, the right of declaring it; 2nd, the expense of supporting it; 3rd, the mode of conducting it after it is declared. The French constitution places the right where the expense must fall, and this union can be only in the nation. The mode of conducting it, after it is declared, it consigns to the executive 18 274 RIGHTS OF MAN. department. Were this the case in all countries we should hear but little more of wars. Before I proceed to consider other parts of the French con- stitution, and by way of relieving the fatigue of argument, I will introduce an anecdote which I had from Dr. Franklin. While the doctor resided in France, as Minister from America, during the war, he had numerous proposals made to him by projectors of every country and of every kind, who wished to go to the land that floweth with milk and honey, America, and among the rest, there was one who offered himself to be king. He introduced his proposal to the doctor by letter, which is now in the hands of M. Beaumarchais, of Paris stating, first, that as the Americans had dismissed or sent away their king, they would want another. Secondly, that himself was a Norman. Thirdly, that he was of a more ancient family than the dukes of Normandy, and of a more honorable descent, his line never having been bastardized. Fourthly, that there was already a precedent in England, of kings coming out of Normandy ; and on these grounds he rested his offer, enjoining that the doctor would forward it to America. But as the doctor did not do this, nor yet send him an answer, the projector wrote a second letter; in which he did not, it is true, threaten to go over and conquer America, but only, with great dignity, proposed, that if his offer was not accepted, that an acknowledment of about 30,000 might be made to him for his generosity! Now, as all argumennts respecting succession must necessarily connect that succession with some beginning, Mr. Burke's arguments on this subject go to show, that there is no English origin of kings, and that they are descendants of the Norman line in right of the conquest. It may, therefore, be of service to his doctrine to make the story known, and to inform him that in case of that natural extinction to which all mortality is subject, kings may again be had from Normandy on more reasonable terms than William the Conqueror; and, consequently, that the good people of England, at the revolution of 1688, might have done much better, had such a generous Norman as this known their wants, and they his. The chivalric character which Mr. Burke so much admires, is certainly much easier to make a bargain with than a hard-dealing Dutchman. But to return to the matters of the constitution The French constitution says, there shall be no titles; and of consequence, all that class of equivocal generation, which in RIGHTS OF MAN. 275 some countries is called "aristocracy" and in others " nobility," is done away, and the peer is exalted into the man. Titles are but nicknames, and every nickname is a title. The thing is perfectly harmless in itself, but it marks a sort of foppery in the human character which degrades it. It renders man diminutive in things which are great, and the counterfeit of woman in things which are little. It talks about its fine riband like a girl, and shows its yarter like a child. A certain writer, of some antiquity, says, " When I was a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things." It is, properly, from the elevated mind of France, that the folly of titles has been abolished. It has out-grown the baby- clothes of count and duke, and breeched itself in manhood. France has not leveled, it has exalted. It has put down the dwarf to set up the man. The insignificance of a senseless word like duke, count, dr earl, has ceased to please. Even those who possessed them have disowned the gibberish, and, as they out- grew the rickets, have despised the rattle. The genuine mind of man, thirsting for its native home, society, condemns the gew- gaws that separate him from it. Titles are like circles drawn by the magician's wand, to contract the sphere of man's felicity. He lives immured within the Bastile of a word, and surveys at a distance the envied life of man. Is it then any wonder that titles should fall in France 1 Is it not a greater wonder they should be kept up anywhere 1 What are they 1 ? What is their worth, nay "what is their amount V Wiien we think or speak of a. judge, or a general, we associate with it the ideas of office and character; we think of gravity in the one, and bravery in the other; bub when we use a word merely as a title, no ideas associate with it. Through all the vocabulary of Adam, there is not such an animal as a duke or a count; neither can we connect any certain idea to the words. Whether they mean strength or weakness, wisdom or folly, a child or a man, or a rider or a horse, is all equivocal. What respect then can be paid to that which describes nothing, and which means nothing 1 Imagination has -given figure and character to centaurs, satyrs, and down to all the fairy tribe ; but titles baffle even the powers of fancy, and are a chimerical nondescript. But this is not all If a whole country is disposed to hold them in contempt, all their value is gone, and none will own 276 RIGHTS OF MAN. them. Tt is common opinion only that makes them anything or nothing, or worse than nothing. There is no occasion to take titles away, for they take themselves away when society concurs to ridicule them. This species of imaginary consequence has visibly declined in every part of Europe, and it hastens to its exit as the world of reason continues to rise. There was a time when the lowest class of what are called nobility was more thought of than the highest is now, and when a man in armor riding through Christendom in search of adventures was more stared at than a modern duke. The world has seen this folly fall, and it has fallen by being laughed at, and the farce *f titles will follow its fate. The patriots of France have dis- covered in good time, that rank and dignity in society must take a new ground. The old one has fallen through. It must now take the substantial ground of character, instead of the chimerical ground of titles: and they have brought their titles to the altar, and made of them a burnt-offering to reason. If no mischief has annexed itself to the folly of titles, they would not have been worth a serious and formal destruction, such as the national assembly have decreed them : and this makes it necessary to inquire further into the nature and char- acter of aristocracy. That, then, which is called aristocracy in some countries, and nobility in others, arose out of the government founded upon the conquest. It was originally a military order, for the purpose of supporting military government (for such were all govern- ments founded in conquests) ; and to keep up a succession of this order for the purpose for which it was established, all the younger braches of those families were disinherited, and the law of primoyenituresJiip set up. The nature and character of aristocracy shows itself to us in this law. It is a law against every law of nature, and nature herself calls for its destruction. Establish family justice and aristocracy falls. By the aristocratical law of primogeniture- ship, in a family of six children, five are exposed. Aristocracy has never but one child. The rest are begotten to be devoured. They are thrown to the cannibal for prey, and the natural parent prepares the unnatural repast. As everything which is out of nature in man, affects, more or less, the interest of society, so does this. All the children which the aristocracy disowns (which are all, except the eldest) we, in general, cast like orphans on a parish, to be provided for RIGHTS OF MAN. 277 by the public, but at a greater charge. Unnecessary offices and places in governments and courts are created at the expense of the public to maintain them. With what kind of parental reflections can the father or mother contemplate their younger offspring. By nature they are children, and by marriage they are heirs ; but by aristocracy they are bastards and orphans. They are the flesh and blood of their parents in one line, and nothing akin to them in the other. To restore, therefore, parents to their children, and children to their parents relations to each other, and man to society and to exterminate the monster aristocracy, root and branch the French constitution has destroyed the law of pri- moyenitureship. Here then lies the monster, and Mr. Burke, if he pleases, may write its epitaph. Hitherto we have considered aristocracy chiefly in one point of view. We have now to consider it in another. But whether we view it before or behind, or sideways, or anyway else, do- mestically or publicly, it is still a monster. In France, aristocracy had one feature less in its countenance than what it has in some other countries. It did not compose a body of hereditary legislators. It was not " a corporation oj aristocracy" for such I have heard M. de la Fayette describe an English house of peers. Let us then examine the grounds upon which the French constitution has resolved against having such a house in France. Because, in the first place, as is already mentioned, aristo- cracy is kept up by family tyranny and injustice. 2nd, Because there is an unnatural unfitness in an aristo- cracy to be legislators for a nation. Their ideas of distributive justice are corrupted at the very source. They begin life tramp- ling on all their younger brothers and sister^, and relations of every kind, and are taught and educated so to do. With what ideas of justice or honor can that man enter a house of legisla- tion, who absorbs in his own person the inheritance of a whole family of children, or metes out some pitiful portion with the insolence of a gift 1 3rd, Because the idea of hereditary legislators is as inconsis- tent as that of hereditary judges, or hereditary juries; and as absurd as an hereditary mathematician, or an hereditary wise man ; and as ridiculous as an hereditary poet-laureat. 4th, Because a body of men, holding themselves accountable to nobody, ought not to be trusted by arty body. 278 BIGHTS OF MAN. 5th, Because it is continuing the uncivilized principle of governments founded in conquest, and the base idea of man having property in man, and governing him by personal right. 6th, Because aristocracy has a tendency to degenerate the human species. By the universal economy of nature it is known, and by the instance of the Jews it is proved, that the human species has a tendency to degenerate, in any small num- ber of persons, when separated from the general stock of society, and intermarrying constantly with each other. It de- feats even its pretended end, and becomes in time the opposite of what is noble in man. Mr. Burke talks of nobility; let him show what it is. The greatest characters the world has known, have risen on the democratic floor. Aristocracy has not been able to keep a proportionate pace with democracy. The arti- ficial noble shrinks into a dwarf before the noble of nature ; and in a few instances (for there are some in all countries) in whom nature, as by a miracle, has survived in aristocracy, those men despise it. But it is time to proceed to a new subject. The French constitution has reformed the condition of the clergy. It has raised the income of the lower and middle classes, and taken from the higher. None are now less than twelve hundred livres (fifty pounds sterling), nor any higher than two or three thousand pounds. What will Mr. Burke place against this 1 Hear what he says. He says, .that "the people of England can see, without pain or grudging, an archbishop precede a duke; they can see a bishop of Durham, or a bishop of Winchester in possession of 10,000 a year; and cannot see why it is in worse hands than estates to the like amount in the hands of this earl or that squire." And Mr. Burke offers this as an example to France As to the first part, whether the archbishop precedes th duke, or the duke the bishop, it is, I believe, to the people in general, somewhat like Sternhold and Hopkins, or Hopkins and Sternhold; you may put which you please first: and as I con- fess that I do not understand the merits of this case, I will not contend it with Mr. Burke. But with respect to the latter, I have something to say. Mr. Burke has not put the case right. The comparison is out of order by being put between the bishop and the earl, or the 'squire. It ought to be put between the bishop and the curate, and then it will stand thus : the people of England can see with- out grudging or pain, a bishop of Durham or a bishop of Win- RIGHTS OF MAN. 279 Chester, in possession of ten thousand pounds a year, and a cu- rate on thirty or fort]) pounds a year, or less. No, sir, they cer- tainly do not see these things without great pain and grudging. It is a case that applies itself to every man's sense of justice, and is one among many that calls aloud for a constitution. In France, the cry of " the church ! the church /" was re- peated as often as in Mr. Burke's book, and as loudly as when the dissenters' bill was before parliament; but the generality of the French clergy were not to be deceived by this crv anv longer. They knew that whatever the pretence might be, it was themselves who were one of the principal objects of it. It was the cry of the high beneficed clergy, to prevent any regu- lation of income taking place between those of ten thousand pounds a year and the parish priest. They, therefore, joined their case to those of every other oppressed class of meu, and by this union obtained redress. The French constitution has abolished tithes, that source of perpetual discontent between the tithe-holder and the parish- ioner. When land is held on tithe, it is in the condition of an estate held between two parties; one receiving one-tenth, and the other nine-tenths of the produce; and, consequently, on principles of equity, if the estate can be improved, and made to produce by that improvement double or treble what it did be- fore, or in any other ratio, the expense of such improvement ought to be borne in like proportion between the parties who are to share the produce. But this is not the case in tithes; the farmer bears the whole expense, and the tithe-holder takes a tenth of the improvement, in addition to the original tenth, and by this means gets the value of two- tenths instead of one. This is another case that calls for a constitution. The French constitution hath abolished or renounced tolera- tion, and intoleration also, and hath established universal right of conscience. Toleration is not the opposite of intoleration, but is the coun- terfeit of it. Both are despotisms. The one assumes to itself the right of withholding liberty of conscience, and the other of granting it. The one is the pope, armed with fire and fagot, and the other is the pope selling or granting indulgences. The former is church and state, and the latter is church and traffic. But toleration may be viewed in a much stronger light. Man worships not himself but his Maker: and the liberty of conscience which he claims, is not for the service of Himself, but 280 RIGHTS OF MAN. of his God. In this case, therefore, we must necessarily have the associated idea of two beings: the mortal who renders the worship, and the immortal being who is worshipped. Tolera- tion, therefore, places itself not between man and man, nor be- tween church and church, nor between one denomination of religion and another, but between God and man: between the being who worships and the being who is worshipped; and by the same act of assumed authority by which it tolerates man to pay his worship, it presumptuously and blasphemously sets up itself to tolerate the Almighty to receive it. Were a bill brought into parliament, entitled, "An act to tolerate or grant liberty to the Almighty to receive the worship of a Jew or a Turk," or " to prohibit the Almighty from receiv- ing it," all men would startle, and call it blasphemy. There would be an uproar. The presumption of toleration in reli- gious matters would then present itself unmasked ; but the pre- sumption is not the less because the name of " man " only ap- pears to those laws, for the associated idea of the worshipper and the worshipped cannot be separated. Who, then, art thou, vain dust and ashes ! by whatever name thou art called, whether a king, a bishop, a church or a state, a parliament or anything else, that obtrudest thine insignificance between the soul of man and his Maker ? Mind thine own concerns. If he believ- eth not as thou believest, it is a proof that thou believest not as he believeth, and there is no earthly power can determine between you. With respect to what are called denominations of religion, if everyone is left to judge of his own religion, there is no such thing as a religion that is wrong ; but if they are to judge of each other's religion, there is no such thing as a religion that is right ; and therefore all the world is right, or all the world is wrong. But with respect to religion itself, without regard to names, and as directing itself from the universal family of mankind to the divine object of all adoration, it is man bring- ing to his Maker the fruits of his heart; and though these fruits may differ from each other like the fruits of the earth, the grateful tribute of everyone is accepted. A bishop of Durham, or a Bishop of Winchester, or the archbishop who heads the dukss, will not refuse a tithe-sheaf of wheat, because it is not a cock of hay : nor a cock of hay because it is not a sheaf of wheat ; nor a pig because it is neither the one nor the other : but these same persona, under RIGHTS OF MAN. 281 the figure of an established church, will not permit their Maker to receive the varied tithes of man's devotion. One of the continual choruses of Mr. Burke's book is " church and state;" he does not mean some one particular church, or some one particular state, but any church and state ; and ho uses the term as a general figure to hold forth the politicai doctrine of always uniting the church with the state in every country, and he censures the national assembly for not having done this in France. Let us bestow a few thoughts on this subject. All religions are, in their nature, mild and benign, and united with principles of morality. Thc^y could not have made prose- lytes at first, by professing anything that was vicious, cruel, per- secuting or immoral. Like everything else, they had their beginning ; and they proceeded by persuasion, exhortation, and example. How then is it that they lose their native mildness, and become morose and intolerant 1 It proceeds from the connection which Mr. Burke recom- mends. By engendering the church with the state, a sort of mule animal, capable only of destroying, and not of breeding up, is produced, called, the church established by law. It is a stranger, even from its birth, to any parent mother on which it is begotten, and whom in time it kicks out and destroys. The inquisition in Spain does not proceed from the religion originally professed, but from this mule animal, engendered between the church and the state. The burnings in Smithneld preceded from the same heterogeneous production ; and it was the regeneration of this strange aniiaal in England afterwards, that renewed rancor and irreligion among the inhabitants, and that drove the people called Quakers and Dissenters to Amer- ica. Persecution is not an original feature in any religion ; but is always the strongly -marked feature of all law-religions, or religions established by law. Take away the law-establish- ment, and every religion re-assumes its original benignity. In America, a Catholic priest is a good citizen, a good character, and a good neighbor ; an Episcopalian minister is of the same description : and this proceeds independent of men, from there being no law-establishment in America. If also we view this matter in a temporal sense, we shall see the ill effects it has had on the prosperity of nations. The union of church and state has impoverished Spain. The re- voking the edict of Nantz drove the silk manufacture from that 282 RIGHTS OF MAN. country into England ; and church and state are now driving the cotton manufacture from England to America and France. Let then Mr. Burke continue to preach his anti-political doc- trine of church and state. It will do some good. The na- tional assembly will not follow his advice, but will benefit by his folly. It was by observing the ill effects of it in England, that America has been warned against it ; and it is by experi encing them in France, that the national assembly have abc ished it, and, like America, has established universal right o conscience, and universal right of citizenship.* I will here cease the comparison with respect to the prin- ciples of the French constitution, and conclude this part of the subject with a few observations on the organization of the formal parts of the French and English governments. The executive power in each country is in the hands of a person styled the king; but the French constitution distin- guishes between the king and the sovereign: it considers the station of king as official, and places sovereignty in the nation. * When In any country we see extraordinary circumstances taking place, they natura'ly lead any man who has a talent for observation and investigation, to inquire into the causes. The manufacturers of Manchester, Birmingham, and Sheffield, are the principal manufacturers in England. From whence di'l this arise? A little observation will explain the case The principal, and the generality of the inhabitants of those places, are not of what is culled in England, the church established by law: and th.y, or their lathers (for it is within but a few yeais) withdrew from the persecution of the chartered towns, where test-laws more particularly operate, and established a sort of asylum for themselves in those places. It was the only asylum then offered, for the rest of Europe was worse. But the case is now changing France and America bid all comers welcome, and initiate them into all the rights of citizenship. Policy and interest, therefore, will, iiut perhaps too late, dictate in England what reason and justice could not. Those manufacturers are withdrawing to oth. r places. There is now erecting in Passey. three miles from Paris, a large cotton manuiactory, and several are already recti d In America. Soon alter the rejecting the bill for repealing the test-law, one of the richest mauu; acturers in England said iu my hearing, -'England, sir, is not a country for a Dissenter to live in, we must go to France." These are truths, and it i- doins,' justice to both parties to tell them. It is chiefly the Dissenters that have carried English manufactures to the height they are now at, and the same men have it in tneir power to carry them away; and though those manufacturers would afterwards continue in those places, the foreign market will be lost. There frequently appears in the London Gazette, extracts from certain acts to prevent machines, and as far as it can extend to persons, from going out of the country. It appears from these that the ill effects of the test-laws and church establishment begin to be much suspected; but the remedy of force can never supply the remedy of reason. In the progress of less than a century, all the unrepresented part of England, of all de- nominations which is at least an hundred times the most numerous, may begin to feel the necessity of a constitution, and then all those matters will come regu- larly before them. RIGHTS OF MAN. 283 The representatives of the nation, which compose the national assembly, and who are the legislative power, originate in and from the people by election, as an inherent right in the people. In England it is otherwise; and this arises from the original establishment of what is called its monarchy ; for as by the con- quest all the rights of the people or the nation were absorbed into the hands of the conqueror, and who added the title of king to that of conqueror, those same matters which in France are now held as rights in the people, or in the nation, are held in England as grants from what is called the crown. The parliament in England, in both its branches, was erected by patents from the descendants of the conqueror. The house of commons did not originate as a matter of right in the people, to delegate or elect, but as a grant or boon. By the French constitution, the nation is always named be- fore the king. The third article of the declaration of rights says, " The nation is essentially the source (or fountain) of all sovereignty." Mr. Burke argues that in England a king is the fountain that he is the fountain of all honor. But as this idea is evidently descended from the conquest, I shail make no other remark upon it than that it is the nature of conquest to turn everything upside down; and as Mr. Burke will not be refused the privilege of speaking twice, and as there are but two parts in the figure, the fountain and the spout, he will be right the second time. The French constitution puts the legislative before the execu- tive; the law before the king; la loi,.le roi. This also is in the natural order of things; because laws must have existence, before they can have execution. A king in France does not, in addressing himself to the national assembly, say, " my assembly," similar to the phrase used in England of "my parliament;" neither can he use it consistent with the constitution, nor could it be admitted. There may be propriety in the use of it in England, because as is before mentioned, both houses of parliament originated out of what is called the crown, by patent or boon and not out of the inherent rights of the people, as the national assem- bly does in France, and whose name designates its origin. The president of the national assembly does not ask the king to grant to the assembly the liberty of speech, as is the case with the English house of commons. The constitutional dignity of the national assembly cannot debase itself. Speech is, in the 284 RIGHTS OF MAN. first place, one of the natural rights of man, always retained, and with respect to the national assembly , the use of it is their duty, and the nation is their authority. They were elected by the greatest body of men exercising the right of election the European world ever saw. They sprung not from the tilth of rotten boroughs, nor are they vassal representatives of aristo- cratical ones. Feeling the proper dignity of their character, they support it. Their parliamentary language, whether for or against a question, is free, bold, and manly, and extends to all the parts and circumstances of the case. If any matter or subject respecting the executive department, or the person who presides in it (the king), comes before them, it is debated on with the spirit of men, and the language of gentlemen; and their answer, or their address, is returned in the same style. They stand not aloft with the gaping vacuity of vulgar ignor- ance, nor bend with the cringe of sycophantic insignificance. The graceful pride of truth knows no extremes, and preserves in every latitude of life the right-angled character of man. Let us now look to the other side of the question. In the addresses of the English parliaments to their kings, we see neither the intrepid spirit of the old parliaments of France, nor the serene dignity of the present national assembly ; neither do we see in them anything of the style of English manners, which borders somewhat on bluntness. Since then they are neither of foreign extraction, nor naturally of English production, their origin must be sought for elsewhere, and that origin is the Norman conquest. They are evidently of the vassalage class of manners, and emphatically mark the prostrate distance that exists in no other condition of men than between the conqueror and the conquered. That this vassalage idea and style of speaking was not got rid of, even at the revolution of 1688, is evident from the declaration of parliament to William and Mary, in these words: "we do most humbly and faithfully submit ourselves, our heirs and posterity forever." Submission is wholly a vassalage term, repugnant to the dignity of freedom, and an echo of the language used at the conquest. As the estimation of all things' is by comparison, the revo- lution of 1688, however from circumstances it may have been exalted above its value, will find its level. It is already on the wane, eclipsed by the enlarging orb of reason, and the revolutions of America and France. In less than another century, it will go. as well as Mr. Burke's labors, "to the BIGHTS OF MAN. family vault of all the Capulets." Mankind will then scarcely believe that a country calling itself free, would send to Holland for a man, and clothe him with power, on purpose to put them- selves in fear of him, and give him almost a million sterling a- year, for leave to submit themselves and their posterity, like bondmen and bondwomen forever. But there is a truth that ought to he made known ; I have had the opportunity of seeing it: which is, that notwithstanding appearances, there is not any description of men that despise monarchy so much as courtiers. But they well know, that if it were seen by others, as it is seen by them, the juggle could not be kept up. They are in the condition of men who get their living by show, and to whom the folly of that show is so familiar that they ridicule it; but were the audience to be made as wise, in this respect, as themselves, there would be an end to the show and the profits with it. The difference be- tween a republican and a courtier with respect to monarchy, is, that the one opposes monarchy believing it to be something, and the other laughs at it knowing it to be nothing. As I used sometimes to correspond with Mr. Burke, believ- ing him then to be a man of sounder principles than his book shows him to be, I wrote to him last winter from Paris, and gave him an account how prosperously matters were going on. Among other subjects in that letter, I referred to the happy situation the national assembly were placed in; that they had taken a ground on which their moral duty and their political interest were united. They have not to hold out a language which they do not believe, for the fraudulent purpose of mak- ing others believe it. Their station requires no artifice to support it, and can only be maintained by enlightening man- kind. It is not their interest to cherish ignorance, but to dispel it. They are not in the case of a ministerial or an oppo- sition party in England, who, though they are opposed, are still united to keep up the common mystery. The national assembly must throw open a magazine of light. It must show man the proper character of man; and the nearer it can bring him to that standard, the stronger the national assembly be- comes. In contemplating the French constitution, we see in it a rational order of things. The principles harmonize with the forms, and both with their origin. It may perhaps be said as MI excuse for bad forms, that they are nothing more than RIGHTS OF MAN. forma; but this is a mistake. Forms grow out of principles, and operate to continue the pi-inciples they grow from. It is impossible to practise a bad form on anything but a bad prin- ciple. It cannot be engrafted on a good one; and wherever the forms in any government are bad, it is a certain indication that the principles are bad also. I will here finally close this subject. I began it by remarking that Mr. Burke had voluntarily declined going into a comparison of the English and French constitutions. He apologized (p. 214) for not doing it, by saying that he had not time. Mr. Burke's book was upwards of eight months in hand, and it extended to a volume of three hundred and fifty-six pages. As his omission does injury to his cause, his apology makes it worse; and men on the English side of the water will begin to consider, whether there is not some radical defect in what is called the English constitution, that made it necessary in Mr. Burke to suppress the comparison, to avoid bringing it into view. As Mr. Burke has not written on constitutions, so neither has he written on the French revolution. He gives no account of its commencement or its progress. He only expresses his wonder. " It looks," says he, " to me as if I were in a great crisis, not of the affairs of France alone, but of all Europe, perhaps of more than Europe. All circumstances taken to- gether, the French revolution is the most astonishing that has hitherto happened in the world. As wise men are astonished at foolish things and other peo- ple at wise ones, I know not on which ground to account for -Mr. Burke's astpnishment; but certain it is that he does not understand the French revolution. It has apparently burst forth like a creation from a chaos, but it is no more than the consequences of mental revolution previously existing in France. The mind of the nation had changed beforehand, and a new order of things has naturally followed a new order of thoughts. I will here, as concisely as I can, trace out the growth of the French revolution, and mark the circumstances that have con- tributed to produce it. The despotism of Louis the XIV., united with the gaiety of hit* 3ourt, and the gaudy ostentation of his character, had so humbled, and at the same time so fascinated the mind of France, that the people appear to have lost all sense of their own dignity, in contemplating that of their grand monarch : and the whole reign of Louis XV. remarkable only for weakness and efferain- RIGHTS OF MAN. 287 acy, made no other alteration than that of spreading a sort of lethargy over the 1 nation, from which it showed no disposition to rise. The only signs which appeared of the spirit of liberty during those periods, are to be found in the writings of the French philosophers. Montesquieu, president of the parliament of Bordeaux, went as far as a writer under a despotic govenment could well proceed : and being obliged to divide himself between principle and prudence, his mind often appears under a veil, and we ought to give him credit for more than he has expressed. Voltaire, who was both the flatterer and satirist of despotism, took another line. His forte lay in exposing and ridiculing the superstitions which priest-craft, united with state-craft, had interwoven with governments. It was not from the purity of his principles, or his love of mankind (for satire and philan- thropy are not naturally concordant), but from his strong cap- acity of seeing folly in its true shape, and his irresistible pro- pensity to expose it, that he made those attacks. They were however as formidable as if the motives had been virtuous; and he merits the thanks rather than the esteem of mankind. On the contrary, we find in the writings of Rousseau and Abbe Raynal, a loveliness of sentiment in favor of liberty, that excites respect, and elevates the human faculties; yet having raised this animation, they do not direct its operations, but leave the mind in love with an object, without describing the means of possessing it. The writings of Quisne, Turgot, and the friends of those authors, are of a serious kind; but they labored under the same disadvantage with Montesquieu ; their writings abound with moral maxims of government, but are rather directed to economise and reform the administration of the government, than the government itself. But all those writings and many others had their weight; and by the different manner in which they treated the subject of government Montesquieu by his judgment and knowledge of laws; "Voltaire by his wit; Rousseau and Raynal by their animation; and Quisne and Turgot by their moral maxims and systems of economy readers of every class met with something to their taste, and a spirit of political inquiry began to diffuse itself through the nation at the time the dispute between Eng- land and the then colonies of America broke out. In the war which France afterwards engaged in, it is very 288 RIGHTS OF MAN. well known that the nation appeared to \#> befprehand with the French ministry. Each of them had its views; but those views were directed to different objects; the one sought liberty and the other retaliation on England. The French officers and sol- diers who after this went to America, were eventually placed in the school of freedom, and learned the practice as well as the principles of it by heart. As it was impossible to separate the military events which took place in America from the principles of the American revolution, the publication of those events in France necessarily connected themselves with the principles that produced them. Many of the facts were in themselves principles: such as the declaration of American Independence, and the treaty of alliance between France and America, which recognized the natural rights of man, and justified resistance to oppression. The then minister of France, count Vergennes, was not the friend of America; and it is both justice and gratitude to say, that it was the queen of France who gave the cause of America a fashion at the French court. Count Vergennes was the personal and social friend of Dr. Franklin; and the doctor had obtained by his sensible gracefulness, a sort of influence over him; but with respect to principles, count Vergennes was a despot. The situation of Dr. Franklin as minister from America to France should be taken into the chain of circumstances. A diplomatic character is the narrowest sphere of society that man can act in. It forbids intercourse by a reciprocity of sus- picion; and a diplomatist is a sort of unconnected atom, con- tinually repelling and repelled. But this was not the case with Dr. Franklin ; he was not the diplomatist of a court but of man. His character as a philosopher had been long established, and his circle of society in France was universal. Count Vergennes resisted for a considerable time the publica- tion of the American constitutions in France, translated into the French -language; but even in this he was obliged to give way to public opinion, and a sort of propriety in admitting to appear what he had undertaken to defend. The American constitutions were to liberty, what a grammar is to language : they define its parts of speech, and practically construct them into syntax. The peculiar situation of the then marquis de la Fayette is another link in the great chain. He served im America as an RIGHTS OF MAN. 289 American officer, under a commission of congress, and by the universality of his acquaintance, was in close friendship with the civil government of America as well as with the military line. He spoke the language of the country, entered into the discussions on the principles of government, and was always a welcome friend at any election. When the war closed, a vast reinforcement to the cause of liberty spread itself over France, by the return of the French officers and soldiers. A knowledge of the practice was then 'oined to the theory; and all that was wanting to give it real existence, was opportunity. Man cannot, properly speaking, make circumstances for his purpose, but he always has it in his power to improve them when they occur : and this was the case in France. M Neckar was displaced in May, 1871 ; and by the ill man- agement of the finances afterwards, and particularly during the extravagant administration of M. Calonne, the revenue of France which was nearly twenty-four millions sterling per year, was become unequal to the expenditures, not because the revenue had decreased, but because the expenses had increased, and this was the circumstance which the nation laid hold of to bring forward a revolution. The English minister, Mr. Pitt, has fre- quently alluded to the state of the French finances in his bud- gets, without understanding the subject. Had the French par- liaments been as ready to register edicts for new taxes as an English parliament is to grant them, there had been no derange- ment in the finances, nor yet any revolution; but this will better explain itself as I proceed. It will be necessary here to show how taxes were formerly raised in France. The king, or rather the court or ministry, acting under the use of that name, framed the edicts for taxes at their own discretion, and sent them to the parliaments to be registered; for until they were registered by the parliaments, they were not operative. Disputes had long existed between the court and the parliament with respect to the extent of the parliament's authority on this head. The court insisted that the authority of parliament went no further than to remonstrate or show reasons against the tax, reserving to itself the right of determining whether the reasons were well or ill-founded ; and in consequence thereof, either to withdraw the edict as a matter of choice, or to order it to be registered as a matter of authority. The parliaments on their part insisted that they had not only a 290 BIGHTS OF MAN. right to remonstrate, but to reject ; and on this ground they were always supported by the nation. But to return to the order of my narrative. M. Calonne wanted money ; and as he knew the sturdy disposition of the parliaments with respect to new taxes, he ingeniously sought either to approach them by a more gentle means than that of di- rect authority, or to get over their heads by a manreuvre : and, for this purpose, he revived the project of assembling a body of men from the several provinces, under the style of an " assembly of the notables," or men of note, who met in 1787, and were either to recommend taxes to the parliaments, or to act as a parliament themselves. An assembly under this name had been called in 1687. As we are to view this as the first practical step towards the revolution, it will be proper to enter into some particulars res- pecting it. The assembly of the notables has in some places been mistaken for the states-general, but was wholly a different body ; the states-general being always by election. The persons who composed the assembly of the notables were all nominated l>y the king, and consisted of one hundred and forty members. But as M. Calonne could not depend upon a majority of this assembly in his favor, he very ingeniously arranged them in such a manner as to make forty-four a majority of one hundred and t'orty : to this effect he -disposed of them into seven separate committees of twenty members each. Every general question was to be decided, not by a majority of persons, but by a ma- jority of committees ; and, as eleven votes would make a majority in a committee, and four committees a majority of seven, M. Calonne had good reason to conclude, that as forty-four would determine any general question, he could not be out- voted. But all his plans deceived him, and in the event became his over- throw. The then marquis de la Fayette was placed in the second com- mittee, of which count d'Artois was president; and as money matters was the object, it naturally brought into view every circumstance connected with it. M. de la Fayette made a ver- bal charge against Calonne, for selling crown land to the amount of two millions of livres, in a manner that appeared to be un- known to the king. The count d'Artois (as if to intimidate, for the Bastile was then in being) asked the marquis if he would render tne charge in writing? He replied that he would. The count d'Artois did not demand it, but brought a message from RIGHTS OF MAN. 21)1 the king to that purport. M. de la Fayette then delivered in his charge in writing, to be given to the king, undertaking to support it. No further proceedings were had upon this affair; but M. Calonne was soon after dismissed by the king, and went to England. AsM.de la Fayette, from the experience he had had in America, was better acquainted with the science of civil government than the generality of the members who composed the assembly of the notables could then be, the brunt of the business fell considerably to his share. The plan of those who had a constitution in view, was to contend with the court on the ground of taxes, and some of them openly professed their object. Disputes frequently arose between count d'Artois and M. de la Fayette upon vari- ous subjects. With respect to the arrears already incurred, the latter promised to remedy them, by accommodating the expenses to the revenue, instead of the revenue to the expenses ; and as objects of reform, he proposed to abolish the Bastile, and all the state prisoners throughout the nation (the keeping of which was attended with great expense) and to suppress lettres de cachet; but those matters were not then much attendad to; and with respect to lettres de cachet, a majority of the nobles appeared to be in favor of them. On the subject of supplying the treasury by new taxes, the assembly 'declined taking the matter on themselves, concurring in the opinion that they had not authority. In a debate on the subject, M. de la Fayette said, that raising money by taxes could only be doae by a national assembly, freely elected by the peo- ple and acting as their representatives. Do you mean, said the count d'Artois, the states-general ? M. de la Fayette replied, that he did. Will you, said the count d'Artois, sign what you say, to be given to the king ] The other replied, that he not only would do this, but that he would go further, and say, that the effectual mode would be for the king to agree to the establish- ment of a constitution. As one of the plans had thus failed, that of getting the assem- bly to act as a parliament, the other came into view, that of re- commending. On this subject, the assembly agreed to recom- mend two new taxes to be enregistered by the parliament, the one a stamp-act, and the other a territorial tax, or sort of land tax. The two have been estimated at about five millions ster- ling per annum. We have now to turn our attention to the .parliaments, on whom the business was again devolving. 292 RIGHTS OF MAN. The archbishop of Toulouse (since archbishop of Sena, and now a cardinal) was appointed to the administration of the finances, soon after thp dismission of Calonne. He was also made prime minister, an office that did not always exist in France. When this office did not exist, the chief of each of the principal departments transacted business immediately with the king; but when the prime minister was appointed, they did business only with him. The archbishop arrived to more state- authority than any minister since the duke de.Choiseuil, and the nation was strongly disposed in his favor; but by a line of con- duct scarcely to be accounted for, he perverted every opportunity, turned out a despot, and sunk into disgrace, and a cardinal. The assembly of the notables having broken up, the new minister sent the edicts for the two new taxes recommended by the assembly to the parliament, to be enregistered. They of course came first bef ore the parliament of Paris, who returned for answer: That with stick a revenue as the nation tlien supported, the name of taxes ought not to be mentioned, but for the- purpose of reducing them; and threw both the edicts out.* On this refusal, the Parliament was ordered to Versailles, where in the usual form, the king" held, what under the old government was called a bed of justice: and the two edicts were enregistered in presence of the parliament, by an order of state, in the manner mentioned, p. 58. On this, t"he parlia- ment immediately returned to Paris, renewed their session in form, and ordered the registering to be struck out, declaring that everything done at Versailles was illegal. All the mem- bers of parliament were then served with lettres de cachet, and exiled to Trois; but as they continued as inflexible in exile as before, and as vengeance did not supply the place of taxes, they were after a short time recalled to Paris. The edicts were again tendered to them, and the count d'Artois undertook to act as representative for the king. For this purpose, he came from Versailles to Paris, in a train of procession; and the parliament was assembled to receive him. But show and parade had lost their influence in France; and whatever ideas of importance he might set off with, he had to return with those of mortification and disappointment. On alighting from his carriage to ascend the steps of the parlia- * When the English minister, Mr. Pitt, mentions the French finances a^ain- in the English parliament, it would be well that he noticed this as an ex- ample. RIGHTS OF MAN. 203 ment house, the crowd (which was numerously collected) threw out trite expressions, saying, "This is monsieur d'Artois, who wants more of our money to spend." The marked disapproba- tion which he saw, impressed him with apprehensions; and the word aux armes ! (to arms !) was given out by the officer of the guard who attended him. It was so loudly vociferated, that it echoed through the avenues of the hoi.a, and produced a tem- porary confusion : I was then standing in one of the apartments through which he had to pass, and could not avoid reflecting how wretched is the condition of a disrespected man. He endeavored to impress the parliament by great words, and opened his authority by saying, " The king, our lord and master." The parliament received him very coolly, and with their usual determination not to register the taxes; and in this manner the interview ended. After this a new subject took place. In the various debates and contests that arose between the court and the parliaments on the subject of taxes, the parliament of Paris at last declared that, although it had been customary for parliaments to enreg- ister edicts for taxes as a matter of convenience, the right belonged only to the states-general : and that, therefore, the par- liaments could no longer with propriety continue to debate on what it had not authority to act. The king, after this, came to Paris, and held a meeting with the parliament, in which he continued from ten in the morning till about six in the even- ing; and, in a manner that appeared to proceed from him, as if unconsulted upon with the cabinet or the ministry, gave his word to the parliament that the states-general should be con- vened. But, after this, another scene arose, on a ground different from all the former. The minister and the cabinet were averse to calling the states-general: they well knew, that if the states- general were assembled, they themselves must fall; and as the king had not mentioned any time, they hit on a project calcu- lated to elude, without appearing to oppose. For this purpose the court set about making a sort of consti- Lution itself: it was principally the work of M. Lamoignon, keeper of the seals, who afterwards shot himself. The arrange- ment consisted in establishing a body under the name of a cour j)iemere, or rull court, in which were invested all the power that the government might have occasion to make use of. The persons composing this court were to be nominated by the 21)4 RIGHTS OF MAN. king; the contended right of taxation was given up on the pare of the king, and a new criminal code of laws, and law proceedings, was substituted in the room of the former. The thing, in many points, contained better principles than those upon which the government had hitherto been administered; but, with respect to the cour pleniere, it was no other than a medium through which despotism was to pass, without appear- ing to act directly from itself. The cabinet had high expectations from their new contri- vance. The persons who were to compose the cour pleniere, were already nominated; and as it was necessary to carry a fair appearance, many of the best characters in the nation were appointed among the number. It was to commence on the 8th of May, 1788; but an opposition arose to it, on two grounds the one as to principle, the other as to form. On the ground of principle, it was contended, that govern- ment had not a right to alter itself; and that if the practice was once admitted it would grow into a principle, and be made a precedent for any future alterations the government might wish to establish; that the right of altering the government was a national right, and not a right of government. And on the ground of form it was contended that the cour pleniere was nothing more than a large cabinet. The then dukes de la Rochefoucault, Luxembourg, de Noailles, and many others, refused to accept the nomination, and strenu- ously opposed the whole plan. When the edict for establishing this new court was sent to the parliaments to be enregistered. and put into execution, they resisted also. The parliament of Paris not only refused, but denied the authority; and the con- test renewed itself between the parliament and the cabinet more strongly then ever. While the parliament was sitting in debate on this subject, the ministry ordered a regiment of sol- diers to surround the house, and form a blockade. The mem- bers sent out for beds and provision, and lived as in a besieged citadel; and as this had no effect, the commanding officer was ordered to enter the parliament house and seize them, which he did, and some of the principal members were shut up in differ- ent prisons. About the same time a deputation of persons arrived from the province of Britanny, to remonstrate against the establishment of the cour pleniere ; and those the archbishop sent to the Bastile. But the spirit of the nation was not to be overcome ; and it wa jo fully sensible of the strong ground it RIGHTS OF MAN. 295 had taken, that of withholding taxes, thai it contented itself with keeping up a sort of quiet resistance, which effectually overthrew all the plans at that time formed against it. The project of the cour pleniere was at last obliged to be given up, and the prime minister not long afterwards followed its fate; and M. Neckar was recalled into office. The attempt to establish the cour pleniere had an effect upon the nation which was not anticipated. It was a sort of new form of government, that insensibly served to put the old one out of sight, and to unhinge it from the supei'stitious authority of antiquity. It was government dethroning government ; and the old one, by attempting to make a new one, made a chasm. The failure of this scheme renewed the subject of convening the states-general : and this gave rise to a new series of politics. There was no settled form for convening the states-general ; all that it positively meant was a deputation from what was then called the clergy, the nobility, and the commons ; but their numbers, or their proportions, had not been always the same. They had been convened only on extraordinary occasions, the last of which was in 1614; their members were then in equal proportions, and they voted by orders. It could not well escape the sagacity of M. Neckar, that the mode of 1614 would answer neither the purpose of the then government, nor of the nation. As matters were at that time circumstanced, it would have been too contentious to argue upon anything. The debates would have been endless upon privi- leges and exemptions, in which neither the wants of the govern- ment, nor the wishes of the nation for a constitution, would have been attended to. But as he did not choose to take the decision upon himself, he summoned again the assembly of the notables, and referred it to them. This body was in general interested in the decision, being chiefly of the aristocracy and the high paid clergy; and they decided in favor of the mode of 1614. This decision was against the sense of the nation, and also against the wishes of the court; for the aristocracy opposed itself to both, and contended for privileges independent of either. The subject was then taken up by the parliament, who recom- mended that the number of the commons should be equal to the other two; and that they should all sit in one house, and vote in one body. The number finally determined on was twelve hun- dred; six hundred to be chosen by the commons (and this was less then their proportion ought to have been when their worth 296 RIGHTS OF MAN. and consequence is considered on a national scale), three hun- dred by the clergy, and three hundred by the aristocracy; but with respect to the mode of assembling themselves, whether to- gether or apart, or the manner in which they should vote, those matters were referred.* The election that followed was not a contested election, but :in animated one. The candidates were not men, but princi- ples. Societies were formed in Paris, and committees of cor- respondence and communication established throughout the nation, for the purpose of enlightening the people, and explain- ing to them the principles of civil government; and so orderly was the election conducted, that it did not give rise even to the rumor of tumult. The states-general were to meet at Versailles in April, 1789, but did not assemble till May. They located themselves in three separate chambers, or rather the clergy and the aristo- cracy withdrew each into a separate chamber. The majority of the aristocracy claimed what they call the privilege of voting as a separate body, and of giving their consent or their negative in that manner; and many of the bishops and high-benenced clergy claimed the same privilege on the part of their order. The tiers etat (as they were called) disowned any knowledge of artificial orders and privileges; and they were not only reso- * Mr. Burke (and I must take the liberty of telling him that he is unac- quainted with French affairs), speaking upon this subject, says, "The first thing that struck me in calling the states-general, was a great departure from the ancient course ;" and he soon after says, " From the moment I read the list, I saw distinctly, and very nearly as it has happened, all that was to follow." Mr. Burke certainly did not see all that was to follow. I have endeavored to impress him, as well before as after the states-general met, that there would be a revolution; but was not able to make him see it, nei- ther would he believe it. How then he could distinctly see all the parts, when the whole was out of sight, is beyond mjs comprehension. And with respect to the "departure from the ancient course," besides the natural weak- ness of the remark, it shows that he is unacquainted with circumstances. The departure was necessary, from the experience had upon it, that the an- cient course was a bad one. The states-general of 1614 were called at the commencement of the civil war in the minority of Louis XIII. ; but by the clash of arranging them by orders, they increased the confusion they were called to compose. The author of " L'lntriffue du Cabinet," (" Intrigue of the Cabinet"), who wrote before any revolution was thought of in France, speak- ing of the states-general of !Ci4, says, "They held the public in suspense live months, and by the questions agitated therein, and the heat with which they were put, it appears that the great (les grands) thought more to satisfy their particular passions, then to procure the good of the nation ; and th whole time passed away in altercations, ceremonies and parade." "L'In- trigue du Cabinet," vol. i. p. 329. BIGHTS OF MAN. 297 lute on this point but somewhat disdainful. They began to consider aristocracy as a kind of fungus growing out of the corruption of society, that could not be admitted even as a branch of it; and from the disposition the aristocracy had shown, by upholding lettres de cachet, and in sundry other in- stances, it was manifest that no constitution could be formed by admitting men in any other character than as national men. After various altercations on this head, the tiers etat, or commons (as they were then called), declared themselves (on a motion made for that purpose by the Abbe Sieyes), " THK REPRE- SENTATIVES OF THE NATION; and that the two orders could be considered but as deputies of corporations, and could only have a deliberative voice but ivlien they assembled in a national char- acter, with the national representatives." This proceeding ex- tinguished the style of etats generaux or states general, and erected it into the style it now bears, that of Vassemblee nation- ale or national assembly. This motion was not made in a precipitate manner : it was the result of cool deliberation, and concerted between the na- tional representatives and the patriotic members of the two chambers, who saw into the folly, mischief, and injustice of artificial privileged distinctions. It was become evident, that no constitution, worthy of being called by that name, could be established on anything less than a national ground. The aris- tocracy had hitherto opposed the despotism of the court, and affected the language of patriotism; but it opposed it as its rival (as the English barons opposed King John), and it now opposed the nation from the same motives. On carrying this motion, the national representatives, as had been concerted, sent an invitation to the two chambers, to unite with them in a national character, and proceed to business. A majority of the clergy, chiefly of the parish priests, withdrew from the clerical chamber, and joined the nation; and forty -five from the other chamber joined in like manner. There is a son of secret history belonging to this last circumstance, which is necessary to its explanation: it was not judged prudent that all the patriotic members of the chamber, styling itself the nobles, should quit it at once ; and in consequence of this arrangement, they drew off by degrees, always leaving some, as well to rea- son the case, as to watch the suspected. In a little time, the numbers increased from forty-five to eighty, and soon after to a greater number; which with a majority of the clergy and the 298 RIGHTS OF MAN. whole of the national representatives, put the malcontents in a very diminutive condition. The king, who, very different to the general class called by that name, is a man of a good heart, showed himself disposed to recommend a union of the three chambers, on the ground the national assembly had taken; but the malcontents exerted themselves to prevent it, and began now to have another pro- ject in view. Their numbers consisted of a majority of the aristocratical chamber, and a minority of the clerical chamber, chiefly of bishops and high benefited clergy; and these men were determined to put everything at issue, as well by strengtn as by stratagem. They had no objection to a constitution; but it must be such an one as themselves should dictate, and suited to their own views and particular situations. On tli^ other hand, the nation disowned knowing anything of them bv t as citizens, and was determined to shut out all such upstart pn - tensions. The more aristocracy appeared, the more it wa.- despised; there was a visible imbecility and want of intellects in the majority, a sort of je ne sais quoi, that while it affected to be more than citizen, was less than man. It lost ground more from contempt than from hatred: and was rather jeered at as an ass than dreaded as a lion. This is the general char acter of aristocracy, or what are called nobles or nobility, or rather no-ability, in all countries. The plan of the malcontents consisted now of two things : either to deliberate and vote by chambers (or orders), mor*- especially on all questions respecting a constitution (by which the aristocratical chamber would have had a negative on any article of the constitution) or, in case they could not accomplish this object, to overthrow the national assembly entirely. To affect one or the other of these objects, they began now to cultivate a friendship with the despotism they had hitherto attempted to rival, and the count d'Artois became their chief. Thaking (who has since declared himself deceived into their measures) held, according to the old form, a bed of justice, in which he accorded to the deliberation and vote par tete (by head) upon several objects; but reserved the deliberation and vote upon all questions respecting a constitution to the three cham- bers separately. This declaration of the king was made against the advice of M. Neckar, who now began to perceive that he was growing out of fashion at court, and that another minister was in contemplation. RIGHTS OF MAN. 299 As the form of sitting in separate chambers was yet appar- ently kept up, though essentially destroyed, the national repre- sentatives, immediately after this declaration of the king, resorted to their chambers to consult on a protest against it; and the minority of the chamber (calling itself the nobles) who had joined the national cause, retired to a private house to con- sult in like manner. The malcontents had by this time con- certed their measures with the court, which count d'Artois undertook to conduct; and as they saw, from the discontent which the declaration excited, and the opposition making n.gainst it, that they could not obtain a control over .the in- r ended constitution by a separate vote, they prepared them- selves for their final object that of conspiring against the national assembly, and overthrowing it. The next morning, the door of the chamber of the national assembly was shut against them, and guarded by troops; and the members were refused admittance. On this they withdrew to a tennis-ground in the neighborhood of Versailles, as the most convenient place they could find, and, after renewing their session, took an oath never to separate from each other, under any circumstances whatever, death excepted, until they had established a constitution. As the experiment of shutting up the house had no other effect than that of producing a closer Connexion in the members, it was opened again the next day, uid the public business recommenced in the xisual place. We now are to have in view the forming the new ministry, which was to accomplish the overthrow of the national assembly. But as force would be necessary, orders were issued to assemble thirty thousand troops, the command of which was given to Broglio, one of the newly-intended ministry, who was recalled from the country for this purpose. But as some management was necessary to keep this plan concealed till the moment it should be ready for execution, it is to this policy that a declar- ation made by the count d'Artois must be attributed, and which is here proper to be introduced. It could not but occur, that while the malcontents continued to resort to their chambers separate from the national assem- bly, that more jealousy would be excited than if they were mixed with it, and that the plot might be suspected. But as they had taken their ground, and now wanted a pretence for quitting it, it was necessary that one should be devised. This was effectually accomplished by u declaration made by count 300 RIGHTS OF MAN. d'Artois, that "if they took no part in the national assembly, the life of the king would be endangered" on which they quitted their chambers and mixed with the assembly in one body. At the time this declaration was made, it was generally treated as a piece of absurdity in the count d'Artois, arid calcu- lated merely to relieve the outstanding members of the two chambers from the diminutive situation they were put in; and if nothing more had followed, this conclusion would have been good. But as things best explain themselves by events, this apparent union was only a cover to the machinations that were secretly- going on, and the declaration accommodated itself to answer that purpose. In a little time the national assembly found itself surrounded by troops, and thousands daily arriving. On this a very strong declaration was made by the national assembly to the king, remonstrating on the impropriety of the measure, and demanding the reason. The king, who was not in the secret of this business, as himself afterwards declared, gave substantially for answer, that he had no other object in view than to preserve public tranquillity, which appeared to be much disturbed. But in a few days from this time, the plot unravelled itself. M. Nec,kar and the ministry were displaced, and a new one formed of the enemies of the revolution; and Broglio, with be- tween twenty-five arid thirty thousand foreign troops, was arrived to support them. The mask was now thrown off, and matters were come to a crisis. The event was, that in the space of three days, the new ministry and all their abbettors found it prudent to fly the nation; the Bastile was taken, and Broglio and his foreign troops dispersed; as is already related in a former part of this work. There are some curious circumstances in the history of this short-lived ministry, and this brief attempt at a counter-revolu- tion. The palace of Versailles, where the court was sitting, was not more than four hundred yards distant from the hall where the national assembly was sitting. The two places were at this moment like the separate headquarters of two combatant enemies; yet the court was as perfectly ignorant of the informa- tion which had arrived from Paris to the national assembly, as if it had resided at a hundred miles distance. The then marquis de la Fayette, who (as has been already mentioned) was chosen to preside in the national assembly on this particular occasion, named, by order of the assembly, three successive deputations EIGHTS OF MAN. to the king, on the day, and up to the evening on which the Eastile was taken, to inform and confer with him on the state of affairs; but the ministry, who knew not so much as that it was attacked, precluded all communication, and were solacing themselves how dexterously they had succeeded : but in a few hours the accounts arrived so thick and fast, that they had to start from their desks and run; some set off in one disguise and some in another, and none in their own character. 1he/l anxiety now was to outride the news, lest they should be stopped, which, though it flew flast, flew not so fast as them- selves. It is worth remarking, that the national assembly neither pursued those fugitive conspirators, nor took any notice of them, nor sought to retaliate in any shape whatever. Occupied with establishing a constitution, founded on the rights of man and the authority of the people, the only authority on which government has a right to exist in any country, the national assembly felt none of those mean passions which mark the character of impertinent governments, founding themselves on their own authority, or on the absurdity of hereditary succession. It is the faculty of the human mind to become what it contem- plates, and to act in unison with its object. The conspiracy being thus dispersed, one of the first works of the national assembly, instead of vindicitive proclamations, as has been the case with other governments, published a declara- tion of the rights of man, as the basis on which the new consti- tution was to be built, and which is here subjoined, Declaration of the rights of man and of citizens: by the national assembly of France. " The representatives of the people of France, formed into a national assembly, considering that ignorance, neglect, or con- tempt of human rights, are the sole causes of public misfortunes, and corruptions of government, have resolved to set forth, in a solemn declaration, these natural, imprescriptible, and unalien- fible rights: that this declaration being constantly present to the minds of the body social, they may be ever kept attentive to their rights and their duties: that the acts of the legislative and executive powers of government, being capable of being every moment compared with the end of political institutions, may be more respected : and 0 RIGHTS OF MAN. When we survey the wretched condition of man, under the monarchical and hereditary systems of government, draggea from his home by one power, or driven by another, and im- poverished by taxes more than by enemies, it becomes evident that those systems are bad, and that a general revolution in the principle and construction of governments is necessary. What is government more than the management of the affairs of a nation ? It is not, and from its nature cannot be, the pro- perty of any particular man or family, but of the whole com- munity at whose expense it is supported; and though by force or contrivance it has been usurped into an inheritance, the usurpation cannot alter the right of things. Sovereignty, as a matter of right, appertains to the nation only, and not to any individual; and a nation has at all times an inherent, indefeasi- ble right to abolish any form of government it finds inconven- ient, and establish such as accords with its interest, disposition, and happiness. The romantic and barbarous distinctions of men into kings and subjects, though it may suit the condition of courtiers cannot that of citizens; and is exploded by the principle upon which governments are now founded. Every citizen is a member of the sovereignty, and as such can acknow ledge no personal subjection; and his obedience can be only to the laws. When men think of what government is, they must neces- sarily suppose it to possess a knowledge of all the objects and matters upon which its authority is to be exercised. In this view of government, the republican system, as established by America and France, operates to embrace the whole of a nation : and the knowledge necessary to the interest of all the parts, is to be found in the centre, which the parts by representation form : but the old governments are on a construction that excludes knowledge as well as happiness; government by monks, who know nothing of the world beyond the walls of a convent, is as consistent as government by kings. What were formerly called revolutions, were little more than a change of persons, or an alteration of local circumstances. They rose and fell like things of course, and had nothing in their existence or their fate that could influence beyond the spot that produced them. But what we now see in the world, from the revolutions of America and France, are a renovation of the natural order of things, a system of principles as universal as BIGHTS OF MAN; 331 truth and the existence of man, and combining moral with political happiness and national prosperity. " I. Men are born, and always continue, free and equal, in respect to their rights. Civil distinctions, therefore, can be founded only on public utility. " II. The end of all political associations is the preservation of the natural and imprescriptible rights of man, and thesi rights are liberty, property, security, and resistance of oppre* sion. " III. The nation is essentially the source of all sovereignty ; nor can any individual, or any body of men, be entitled to any authority which is not expressly derived from it." In these principles there is nothing to throw a nation into confusion, by inflaming ambition. They are calculated to call forth wisdom and abilities, and to exercise them for the public good, and not for the emolument or aggrandizement of particu- lar descriptions of men or families. Monarchical sovereignty, the enemy of mankind and the source of misery, is abolished , and sovereignty itself is restored to its natural and original place, the nation. Were this the case throughout Europe, the cause of wars would be taken away. It is attributed to Henry IV. of France, a man of an enlarged and benevolent heart, that he proposed, about the year 1620, a plan for abolishing war in Europe. The plan consisted in con- stituting an European congress, or, as the French authors style it, a pacific republic; by appointing delegates from the several nations, who were to act, as a court of arbitration, in any disputes that might arise between nation and nation. Had such a plan been adopted at the time it was proposed, the taxes of England and France, as two of the parties, would have been at least ten millions sterling annually, to each nation, less than they were at the commencement of the French revolu- tion. To conceive a cause why such a plan has not been adopted, (and that instead of a congress for the purpose of preventing war, it has been called only to terminate a war, after a fruitless expense of several years,) it will be necessary to consider the interest of governments as a distinct interest to that of nations. Whatever is the cause of taxes to a nation, becomes also the means of revenue to a government. Every war terminates with an addition of taxes, and with an addition of revenue ; and in any event of manner they are 332 RIGHTS OF MAN. now commenced and concluded, the power and interest of cjovernments are increased. War, therefore, from its produc- tiveness, as it easily furnishes the pretence of necessity for taxes and appointments to places and offices, becomes the principal part of the system of old governments; and to establish any mode to abolish war, however advantageous it might be to nations, would be to take from such government the most lucrative of its branches. The frivolous matters upon which war is made, show the disposition and avidity of governments to uphold the system of war, and betray the motives upon which they act. Why are not republics plunged into war, but because the nature of their government does not admit of an interest dis- tinct from that of the nation 1 Even Holland, though an ill- constructed republic, and with a commerce extending over the world, existed nearly a century without war: and the instant the form of government was changed in France, the republican principles of peace, and domestic prosperity and economy, arose with the new government; and the same consequences would follow the same causes in other nations. As war is the system of government on the old construction, the animosity which nations reciprocally entertain, is nothing more than what the policy of their governments excite, to keep up the spirit of the system. Each government accuses the other of perfidy, intrigue and ambition, as a means of heating the imagination of their respective nations, and incensing them to hostilities. Man is not the enemy of man, but through the medium of a false system of government. Instead, therefore, of exclaiming against the ambition of kings, the exclamation should be directed against the principle of such governments; and instead of seeking to reform the individual, the wisdom of a nation should apply itself to reform the system. Whether the forms and maxims of governments which are still in practice, were adapted to the condition of the world at the period they were established, is not in this case the question. The older they are the less porrespondence can they have with the present state of things. Time, and change of circumstances and opinions have the same progressive effect in rendering modes of government obsolete, as they have upon customs and manners. Agriculture, commerce, manufactures, and the tranquil arts, bj which the prosperity of nations is best promoted, require a different system of government and a different species of know- RIGHTS OF MAN. ledge to direct its operations, to what might have been the former condition of the world. As it is not difficult to perceive, from the enlightened state of mankind, that the hereditary governments are verging to their decline, and that revolutions on the broad basis of national sovereignty, and government by representation, are making their way in Europe, it would be an act of wisdom to anticipate their approach, and produce revolutions by reason and accommodation, rather than commit them to the issue of convulsions. From what we now see, nothing of reform in the political world ought to be held improbable. It is an age of revolutions, in which everything may be looked for. The intrigue of courts, by which the system of war is kept up may provoke a confedera- tion of nations to abolish it: and an European congress to pat- ronise the progress of free government, and promote the civil- ization of nations with each other is an event nearer in proba- bility, than once were the revolutions and alliances of France and America. RIGHTS OF MAN: PART IL COMBINING PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE. M. DE LA FAYETTE. AFTEB an acquaintance of nearly fifteen years, in difficult situations America, and various consultations m Europe, I feel a pleasure in present, mg you this small treatise in gratitude for your services to my beloved America, and as a testimony of my esteem tor the virtues, public and private, which I know you to possess. The only point upon which I could ever discover that we differed, was not as to principles of government, but as to time. For my own part, I think it equally as injurious to good principles to permit them to linger, as to push them on too fast. That which you suppose accomplishable in fourteen or fifteen years, I may believe practicable in a much shorter period. Man- kind, as it appears to me, are always ripe enough to understand their true interest, provided it be represented clearly to their understanding, and that in a manner not to create suspicion by anything like self-design, nor to offend by assuming too much. Where we would wish to reform we must not reproach. When the American revolution was established, I felt a disposition to sit serenely down and enjoy the calm. It did not appear to me that any object could afterwards arise great enough to make me quit tranquillity, and feel as I had felt before. But when principle, and not place, is the energetic cause of action, a man, I find, is everywhere the same. I am now once more in the public world ; and as I have not a right to contemplate on so many years of remaining life as you have, I am resolved to labor as fast as I can ; and as I am anxious for your aid and your com- pany, I wish you to hasten your principles and overtake me. If you make a campaign the ensuing spring, which it is most probable there will be no occasion for, I will come and join you. Should the cam- paign commence I hope ib will terminate in the extinction of German despotism, and in establishing the freedom of all Germany. When France shall be surrrounded with revolutions, she will be in peace and safety, and her taxes, as well as those of Germany, will consequently become less. Your sincere, Affectionate friend, THOMAB PAOT& LON DON, February 9, 1799. PREFACE. WHEN I began the chapter entitled the Conclusion, in the former part of the " Rights of Man," published last year, it was my intention to have extended it to a greater length; but in casting the whole matter in my mind which I wished to add, I found that I must either make the work too bulky, or coontract my plan too much. I therefore brought it to a clos a soon as the subject would admit, and reserved what I had further to say to another opportunity. Several other reasons contributed to produce this determina- tion. I wished to know the manner in which a work, written in a style of thinking and expression at variance with what had been customary in England, would be received, before I proceeded further. A great field was opening to the view of mankind by means of the French revolution. Mr. Burke's outrageous opposition thereto brought the controversy into England. He attacked principles which he knew (from infor- mation) I would contest with him, because they are principles I believe to be good, and which I have contributed to establish, and conceive myself bound to defend. Had he not urged the controversy, I had- most probably been a silent man. Another reason for deferring the remainder of the work was, that Mr. Burke promised in his first publication to renew the subject at another opportunity, and to make a comparison of what he called the English and French constitutions. I there- fore held myself in reserve for him. He has published two works since, without doing this; which he certainly would not have omitted, had the comparison been in his favor. In his last work, his "Appeal from the New to the Old Whigs," he has quoted about ten pages from the " Rights ol Man," and having given himself the trouble of doing this, says, "he shall not attempt in thw smallest degree to refute them," meaning the principles therein contained. I am enough ac- quainted with Mr. Burke to know that he would if he could. But instead of contesting them, he immediately after consoles o40 PREFACE. himself with saying that "he has done his part." He has not done his part. He has not performed his promise of a com- parison of constitutions. He started a controversy, he gave the challenge, and has fled from it; and he is now a case in point with his own opinion, that "the age of chivalry is gone/" The title, as well as the substance of his last work, his "Appeal," is his condemnation. Principles must rest on their own merits, and if they are good, they certainly will. To put them under the shelter of other men's authority, as Mr. Burke has done, serves to bring them into suspicion. Mr. Burke is not very fond of dividing his honors, but in this he is artfully dividing the disgrace. But who are those to whom Mr. Burke has appealed 1 A set of childish thinkers and half-way politicians born in the last century ; men who went no further \rith any principle than as it suited their purpose as a party ; me nation sees nothing in such works, or such politics, worth its attention. A little matter will move a party, but it must be something great that moves a nation. Though I see nothing in Mr. Burke's Appeal worth taking notice of, there is, however, one expression upon which I shall offer a few remarks. After quoting largely from the "Rights of Man," and delining to contest the principles contained in that work, he says, " This will most probably be done (if such writings shall be thought to deserve any other refutation than tJtat of criminal justice) by others, who may think with Mr. Burke and with the same zeal." In the first place, it has not been done- by anybody. Not less, I believe, than eight or ten pamphlets, intended as answers to the former part of the " Rights of Man " have been pub- lished by different persons, and not one of them, to my know- ledge, has extended to a second edition, nor are even the titles of them so much as generally remembered. As I am averse to unnecessarily multiplying publications, I have answered none of them. And as I believe that a man may write himself out of reputation when nobody else can do it, I am careful to avoid that rock But as I decline unnecessary publications on the one hand, so would I avoid anything that looked like sullen pride on the other. If Mr. Burke, or any person on his side the question, will produce an answer to the "Rights of Man," that shall extend to a half, or even a fourth part of the number of copies PREFACE. 341 to which the " Rights of Man " extended, I will reply to his work. But, until this be done, I shall so far take the sense of the public for my guide (and the world knows I am not a flat- terer) that what they do not think worth while to read, is not worth mine to answer. I suppose the number of copies to which the first part of the " Rights of Man " extended, taking England, Scotland, and Ireland, is not less than between forty and fifty thousand. I now come to remark on the remaining part of the quota- tion I have made from Mr. Burke. "If," says he, "such writings shall be thought to deserve any other refutation than that of criminal justice." Pardoning the pun, it must be criminal justice indeed that should condemn a work as a substitute for not being able to refute it. The greatest condemnation that could be passed upon it would be a refutation. But, in proceeding by the method Mr. Burke alludes to, the condemnation would, in the final event, pass upon the criminality of the process and not upon the work, and in this case, I had rather be the author, than be either the judge or the jury that should condemn it. But to come at once to the point. I have differed from some professional gentlemen on the subject of prosecutions, and I since find they are falling into my opinion, which I shall here state as fully, but as concisely as I can. I will first put a case with respect to any law, and then compare it with a government, or with what in England is or has been called a constitution. It would be an act of despotism, or what in England is called arbitrary power, to make a law to prohibit investigating the principles, good or bad, on which such a law, or any other is founded. If a law be bad, it is one thing to oppose the practice of it, but it is quite a different thing to expose its errors, to reason on its defects, and to show cause why it should be repealed, or why another ought to be substituted in its place. I have always held it an opinion (making it also my practice) that it is better to obey a bad law, making use at the same time of every argument to show its errors, and procure its repeal, than forcibly to violate it ; because the precedent of breaking a bad law might weaken the force, and lead to a discretionary viola- tion of those which are good. The case is the same with respect to principles and forms 342 PREFACE. of government, or to what are called constitutions, and the parts of which they are composed. It is for the good of nations, and not for the emolument or aggrandizement of particular individuals, that government ought to be established, and that mankind are at the expense of supporting it. The defects of every government and consti- tution both as to principle and form, must, on a parity of rea- soning, be as open to discussion as the defects of a law, and it is a duty which every man owes to society to point them out. When those defects and the means of remedying them, are generally seen by a nation, that nation will reform its govern- ment or its constitution in the one case, as the government repealed or reformed the law in the other. The operation of government is restricted to the making and the administering of laws; but it is to a nation that the right of forming or re- forming, generating or regenerating constitutions and govern- ments belong; and consequently those subjects, as subjects of investigation, are always before a country as a matter of right, and cannot, without invading the general rights of that country, be made subjects for prosecution. On this ground I will meet Mr. Burke whenever he pleases. It is better that the whole argument should come out, than to seek to stifle it. It was him- self that opened the controversy, and he ought not to desert it. I do not believe that monarchy and aristocracy will continue seven years longer in any of the enlightened countries of Europe. If better reasons can be shown for them than against them, they will stand; if the contrary, they will not. Mankind are not now to be told they shall not think, or they shall not read : and publications that go no further than to investigate principles of government, to invite men to reason and to reflect, and to show the errors and excellencies of different systems, have a right to appear. If they do not excite attention, they are not worth the trouble of a prosecution; and if they do, the prosecution will amount to nothing, since it cannot amount to a prohibition of reading. This would be a sentence on the public, instead of the author, and would also be the most effectual mode of mak- ing or hastening revolutions. On all cases that apply universally to a nation, with respect to systems of government, a jury of twelve men is not competent to decide. Where there are no witnesses to be examined, no facts to be proved, and where the whole matter is before the whole public, and the merits or demerits of resting on their PREFACE. 343 opinion; and where there is nothing to be known In a court, but what everybody knows out of it, every twelve men are equally as good a jury as the other, and would most probably reverse each other's verdict; or, from the variety of their opinions, not be able to form one. It is one case whether a nation approve a work, or a plan ; but it is quite another case whether it will commit to any such jury the power of determin- ing whether that nation has a right to, or shall reform its gov- ernment, or not. I mention these cases, that Mr. Burke may see I have not written on government without reflecting on what is law as well as on what are rights. The only effectual jury in such cases would be a convention of the whole nation fairly elected; for, in all such cases, the whole nation is the vicinage. As to the prejudices which men have, from education and habit, in favor of any particular form or system of government, those prejudices have yet to stand the test of reason and reflec- tion. In fact such prejudices are nothing. No man is preju- diced in favor of a thing knowing it to be wrong. He is at- tached to it on the belief of its being right; and when he sees it is not so, the prejudice will be gone. We have but a defec- tive idea of what prejudice is. It might be said that until men think for themselves the whole is prejudice and not opinion; for that only is opinion which is the result of reason and reflec- tion. I offer this remark, that Mr. Burke may not confide too much in what has been the customary prejudices of the country. But admitting governments to be changed all over Europe, it certainly may be done without convulsion or revenge. It is not worth making changes or revolutions, unless it be for some great national benefit, and when this shall appear to a nation, the danger will be, as in America and France, to those who oppose, and with this reflection I close my preface. THOMAS PAINK. LojnxM, feb 9, 2701 BIGHTS OF MAN. PABT IL WHAT Archimedes said of the mechanical powers, may be applied to reason and liberty: "Had we" said he, "a place to stand upon, we might raise the world" The revolution in America presented in politics what was only theory in mechanics. So deeply rooted were all the govern- ments of the old world, and so effectually had the tyranny and the antiquity of habit established itself over the mind, that no beginning could be made in Asia, Africa, or Europe, to reform the political condition of man. Freedom had been hunted round the globe: reason was considered as rebellion; and the slavery of fear had made men afraid to think. But such is the irrestible nature of truth, that all it asks, and all it wants, is the liberty of appearing. The sun needs no in- scription to distinguish him from darkness, and no sooner did the American governments display themselves to the world than despotism felt a shock, and man began to contemplate redress. The independence of America, considered merely as a separa- tion from England, would have been a matter but of little im- portance, had it not been accompanied by a revolution in the principles and practice of government. She made a stand, not for herself only, but for the world, and looked beyond the ad- vantages which she could receive. Even the Hessian, though hired to fight against her, may live to bless his defeat; and England, condemning the viciousness of its government, rejoice in its miscarriage. As America was the only spot in the political world where the principles of universal reformation could begin, so also was it the best in the natural world. An assemblage of circum- stances conspired, not only tn jjivn birth, but to add gigantic 346 RIGHTS OF MAN. maturity to its principles. The scene which that country pre- sents to the eye of the spectator, has something in it which generates and enlarges great ideas. Nature appears to him in magnitude. The mighty objects he beholds act upon the mind by enlarging it, and he partakes of the greatness he contem- plates. Its first settlers were emigrants from different European nations, and of diversified professions of religion, retiring from the governmental persecutions of the old world, and meeting rn the new, not as enemies, but as brothers. The wants which necessarily accompany the cultivation of a wilderness, produced among them a state of society, whieh countries long harassed by the quarrels and intrigues of governments had neglected to cherish. In such a situation man becomes what he ought to- be. He sees his species, not with the inhuman idea of a natural enemy, but as kindred ; and the example shows to the artificial world, that man must go back to nature for information. From the rapid progress which America makes in every species of improvement, it is rational to conclude that if the governments of Asia, Africa and Europe, had begun on a prin- ciple similar to that of America, or had they not been very early corrupted therefrom, those countries must by this time have been in a far superior condition to what they are. Age after age has passed away, for no other purpose than to behold their wretchedness. Could we suppose a spectator who knew nothing of the world, and who was put into it merely to make his observations, he would take a great part of the old world to be new, just struggling with the difficulties and hardships of an infant settlement. He could not suppose that the hordes of miserable poor, with which old countries abound, could be any other than those who had not yet been able to provide for them- selves. Little would he think they were the consequence of what in such countries is called government. If, from the more wretched parts of the old world, we look at those which are in an advanced state of improvement, we still find the greedy hand of government thrusting itself into every corner and crevice of industry, and grasping the spoil of the multitude. Invention is continually exercised to furnish new pretences for revenue and taxation. It watches prosperity as its prey, and permits none to escape without a tribute. As revolutions have begun (and as the probability is always greater against a thing beginning, than of proceeding after it has begun), it is natural to expect that other revolutions will RIGHTS OF MAN. 347 follow. The amazing and still increasing expenses with which old governments are conducted, the numerous wars they engage in or provoke, the embarrassments they throw in the way of universal civilization and commerce, and the oppression and usurpation acted at home, have wearied out the patience, and exhausted the property of the world. In such a situation, and with such examples already existing, revolutions are to be looked for. They are become subjects of universal conversa- tion, and may be considered as the order of the day. If systems of government can be introduced less expensive, and more productive of general happiness, than those which have existed, all attemps to oppose their progress will in the end prove fruitless. Reason, like time, will make its own way, and prejudice will fall in the combat with interest. If uni- versal peace, harmony, civilization and commerce are ever to be the happy lot of man, it cannot be accomplished but by a revolu- tion in the present system of governments. All the monarchical governments are military. War is their trade; plunder and revenue their objects While such governments continue, peace has not the absolute security of a day What is the history of all monarchical governments but a disgustful picture of human wretchedness, and the accidental respite of a few years' repose 1 Wearied with war, and tired with human butchery, they sat m these circumstances, they resolved not to keep any more bears; for, said they, "a bear is a very voracious, expensive animal, and we were obliged to pull out his claws, lest he should hurt the citizens." The story of the bear of Berne was related in some of the French newspa- pers, at the time of the flight of Louis XVI., and the application of it to mon- archy could not be mistaken in France ; but it seems, that the aristocracy of Berne applied it to themselves, and h*v kiue* prohibited the reading of Trench newspapers. 384 RIGHTS OF MAN. in which nations and governments can always appear in their proper character. As extraordinary power ought not to be lodged in the hands of any individual, so ought there to be no appropriations of public money to any person beyond what his services in a state may be worth. It signifies not whether a man be called a president, a king, an emperor, a senator, or by any other name which propriety or folly may devise, or arrogance assume; it is only a certain service he can perform in the state; and the service of any such individual in the routine of office, whether such office be called monarchical, presidential, senatorial, or by any other name or title, can never exceed the value of ten thousand pounds a-year. All the great services that are done in the world are performed by volunteer characters, who accept no pay for them; but the routine of office is always regulated to such a general standard of abilities as to be within the com- pass of numbers in every country to perform, and therefore cannot merit very extraordinary recompense. "Government" says Swift, "w a plain thing t and fitted to the capacity of many heads." It is inhuman to talk of a million sterling a-year, paid out of the public taxes of any country, for the support of any indi- vidual, whilst thousands, who are forced to contribute thereto, are pining with want, and struggling with misery. Govern- ment does not consist in a contrast between prisons and palaces, between poverty and pomp ; it is not instituted to rob the needy of his mite, and increase the wretchedness of the wretched. But of this part of the subject I shall speak hereafter, and con- fine myself at present to political observations. When extraordinary power and extraordinary pay are allot- ted to any individual in a government, he becomes the centre, round which every kind of corruption generates and forms. Give to any man a million a year, and add thereto the power of creating and disposing of places, at the expense of a country, and the liberties of that country are no longer secure. What is called the splendor of a throne, is no other than the corrup- tion of the state. It is made up of a band of parasites, living in luxurious indolence, out of the public taxes. When once such a vicious system is established, it becomes the guard and protection of all inferior abuses. The man who is in the receipt of a million a-year is the last person to pro- mote a spirit of reform, lest in the event, it should reach to BIGHTS OF MAN. 385 himself. It is always his interest to defend inferior abuses, as so many outworks to protect the citadel ; and in this species of political fortification, all the parts have such a common dependance, that it is never to be expected they will attack each other.* Monarchy would not have continued so many ages in the world had it not been for the abuses it protects. It is the master fraud, which shelters all others. By admitting a par- ticipation of the spoil, it makes itself friends; and when it ceases to do this, it will cease to be the idol of courtiers. As the principle on which constitutions are now formed, rejects all hereditary pretensions to government, it also rejects all that catalogue of assumptions known by the name of pre- rogatives. If there is any government where prerogatives might with apparent safety, be intrusted to any individual, it is in the federal government of America. The president of the United States of America is elected only for four years. He is not only responsible in the general sense of the word, but a par- ticular mode is laid down in the constitution for trying him. He cannot be elected under thirty-five years of age; and he must be a native of the country. In a comparison of these cases with the government of Eng- land, the difference when applied to the latter amounts to an * It is scarcely possible to touch on any subject, that will not suggest an allusion to some corruption in governments. The simile of "fortification*," unfortunately involves with it a circumstance, which is directly in point with the matter above alluded to. Among the numerous instances of abuse which have been acted or pro- tected by governments, ancient or modern, there is not a greater than that of quartering a man and his heirs upon the table, to be maintained at its expense. Humanity dictates a provision for the poor but by what right, moral or political, does any government assume to say, that the person called the Duke of Richmond, shall be maintained by the public? Yet, if common report is true, not a beggar in London can purchase his wretched pittance of coal, without paying towards the civil list of the Duke of Richmond. Were the whole produce of this imposition but a shilling a-year, the iniqui- tous principle would be still the same but when it amounts, as it is said to do, to not less than twenty thousand pounds per ann., the enormity is too serious to be permitted to remain. This is one of the effects of monarchy and aristocracy. In stating this case, I am led by no personal dislike. Though I think it mean in any man to live upon the public ; the vice originates in the gavern- ment ; and so general is it become, that whether the parties are in the ministry or in the opposition, it makes no difference, they are sure of the guarantee of each other. 386 RIGHTS OF MAN. absurdity. In England, the person who exercises this pre- rogative is often a foreigner; always half a foreigner, and always married to a foreigner. He is never in full natural or political connexion with the country, is not responsible for anything, and becomes of age at eighteen year's; yet such a person is permitted to form foreign alliances, without even the knowledge of the nation ; and to make war and peace without its consent. But this is not all. Though such a person cannot dispose of the government, in the manner o f a testator, he dictates the marriage connexions, which, in effect, accomplishes a great part of the same end. He cannot directly bequeath half the govern ment to Prussia, but he can form a marriage partnership that will produce the same effect. Under such circumstances, it is happy for England that she is not situated on the continent, or she might, like Holland, fall under the dictatorship of Prussia. Holland, by marriage, is as effectually governed by Prussia, as if the old tyranny of bequeathing the government had been the means. The presidency in America (or, as it is sometimes called, the executive), is the only office from which a foreigner is excluded; and in England, it is the only one to which he is admitted. A foreigner cannot be a member of parliament, but he may be what is called a king. If there is any reason for excluding foreigners, it ought to be from those offices where most mis- chief can be acted, and where, by uniting every bias of interest and attachment, the trust is best secured. But as nations proceed in the great business of forming con- stitutions, they will examine with more precision into the na- ture and business of that department which is called the execu- tive. What the legislative and judicial departments are, every one can see; but with respect to what, in Europe, is called the executive, as distinct from those two, it is either a political superfluity, or a chaos of unknown things. Some kind of official department, to which reports shall be made from different parts of the nation, or from abroad, to be laid before the national representatives, is all that is necessary ; but there is no consistency in calling this the executive ; neither can it be considered in any other light than as inferior to the legislature. The sovereign authority in any country is the power of making laws, and everything else is an official depart- ment. BIGHTS OF MAN. 3JS? Next to the arrangement of the principles and the organiza- tion of the several parts of a constitution, is the provision to be made for the support of the person to whom the nation shall confide the administration of the constitutional powers. A nation can have no right to the time and services of any person at his own expense, whom it may choose to employ or intrust in any department whatever; neither can any reason be given for making provision for the support of any one part of the government and not for the other. But, admitting that the honor of being intrusted with any part of a government, is to be considered a sufficient reward, it ought to be so to every person alike. If the members of the legislature of any country are to serve at their own enpense, that which is called the executive, whether monarchical, or by any other name, ought to serve in like manner. It is incon- sistent to pay the one, and accept the service of the other gratis. In America, every department in the government is decently provided for; but no one is extravagantly paid. Every mem- ber of congress, and of the state assemblies, is allo ved a suf- ficiency for his expenses. Whereas, in England, a most prodigal provision is made for the support of one part of the government, and none for the other ; the consequence of which is, that the one is furnished with the means of corruption, and the other is put into the condition of being corrupted. Less than a fourth part of such expenses, applied as it is in America, would remedy a great part of the corruption. Another reform in the American constitutions is, the explod- ing all oaths of personality. The oath of allegiance is to the nation only. The putting any individual as a figure for a nation is improper. The happiness of a nation is the first object, and therefore the intention of an oath of allegiance ought not to be obscured by being figuratively taken, to, or in the name of, any person. The oath, called the civic oath in France, viz., the "nation, the law, and the king" is im- proper. If taken at all, it ought to be as in America, to the nation only. The law may or may not be good; but, in this place, it can have no other meaning, than as being conducive to the happiness of the nation, and therefore is included it it. The remainder of the path is improper, on the ground that all personal oaths ought to be abolished. They are the remains of tyranny on one part, and slavery on the other; and the name of the Creator ought not to be introduced to witness the degrada- 388 RIGHTS OF MAN. tion of his creation; or if taken, as is already mentioned, as tigurative of the nation, it is in this place redundant. But whatever apology may be made for oaths at the first establish- ment of a government, they ought not be permitted after- wards. If a government requires the support of oaths, it is a sign that it is not worth supporting, and ought not to be sup- ported. Make government what it ought to be, and it will support itself. To conclude this part of the subject. One of the greatest im- provements that has been made for the perpetual security and progress of constitutional liberty is the provision which the new constitutions make for occasionally revising, altering and amend- ing them. The principle upon which Mr. Burke formed his political creed, that "of binding and controlling posterity to the end of time, and renouncing and abdicating tlie rights of all posterity forever" is now become too detestible to be made a subject of debate; and, therefore, I pass it over with no other notice than exposing it. Government is but now beginning to be known. Hitherto it has been the mere exercise of power, which forbade all effectual inquiry into rights, and grounded itself wholly on possession. While the enemy of liberty was its judge, the progress of its principles must have been small indeed. The constitutions of America, and also that of France, have either fixed a period for their revision, or laid down the mode by which improvements shall be made. It is perhaps impossible to establish anything that combines principles with opinions and practice, which the progress of circumstances, through a length of years, will not in some measure derange, or render inconsistent ; and, therefore, to prevent inconveniencies accumu- lating, till they discourage reformations or provoke revolutions, it is best to regulate them as they occur. The rights of man are the rights of all generations of men, and cannot be mon- opolized by any. That which is worth following, will be fol- lowed for the sake of its worth ; and it is in this that its se- curity lies, and not in any conditions with which it may be in- cumbered. When a man leaves property to his heirs, he does not connect it with an obligation that they shall accept it. Why then should we do otherwise with respect to constitutions, fr The best constitution that could now be devised, consistent with the condition of the present moment, may be far short of RIGHTS OF MAN. 389 that excellence which a few years may afford. There is a morn- ing of reason rising upon man, on the subject of government, that has not appeared before. As the barbarism of the present old governments expires, the moral condition of nations, with respect to each other, will be changed. Man will not be brought up with the savage idea of considering his species as enemies, because the accident of birth gave the individuals existence in countries distinguished by different names; and as constitutions have always some relation to external as well as to domestic circumstances, the means of benefiting by every change, foreign or domestic, should be a part of every constitution. We already see an alteration in the national disposition of England and France towards each other, which, when we look back only a few years, is itself a revolution. Who could have foreseen, or who would have believed, that a French national assembly would ever have been a popular toast in England, or that a friendly alliance of the two nations should become the wish of either ? It shows, that man, were he not corrupted by governments, is naturally the friend of man, and that human is not of itself vicious. That spirit of jealousy and ferocity, which the governments of the two countries inspired, and which they rendered subservient to the purpose of taxation, is now yielding to the dictates of reason, interest, and humanity. The trade of courts is beginning to be understood, and the affecta- tion of mystery, with all the artificial sorcery by which they imposed upon mankind, is on the decline. It has received its death wound; and though it may linger, it will expire. Government ought to be as much open to improvement as anything which appertains to man, instead of which it has been monopolized from age to age, by the most ignorant and vicious of the human race. Need we any other proof of their wretched management, than the excess of debt and taxes with which every nation groans, and the quarrels into which they have pre- cipitated the world 1 ? Just emerging from such a barbarous condition, it is too soon to determine to what extent of improvement government may yet be carried. For what we can foresee, all Europe may form but dne grand republic, and man be free of the whole. . * 390 RIGHTS OF CHAPTER V. WAYS AND MEANS OF IMPROVING THE CONDITION OF EUROPE, INTERSPERSED WITH MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. IN contemplating a subject that embraces with equatorial magnitude the whole region of humanity, it is impossible to confine the pursuit in any one single direction. It takes ground on every character and condition that appertains to man, and blends the individual, the nation, and the world. From a small spark, kindled in America, a flame has arisen, not to be extinguished. Without consuming, like the ultimo ratio regum, it winds its progress from nation to nation, and conquers by a silent operation. Man finds himself changed, he scarcely perceives how. He acquires a knowledge of his rights by attending justly to his interest, and discovers in the event, that the strength and powers of despotism consist wholly in the fear of resisting it, and that, in order "to be free, it is sitf- fieient that he wills it" Having in all the preceding parts of this work endeavored tc establish a system of principles as a basis on which governments ought to be erected, I shall proceed in this, to the ways and means of rendering them into practise. But in order to intro- duce this part of the subject with more propriety and stronger effect, some preliminary observations, deducible from, or con nected with those principles, are necessary. Whatever the form or constitution of government may be, it ought to have no other object than the general happiness. When, instead of this, it operates to create and increase wretchedness in any of the parts of society, it is on a wrong system, and reformation is necessary. Customary language has classed the condition of man under the two descriptions of civilized and uncivilized life. To the one it has ascribed felicity and affluence ; u o the other, hardship and want. But, however our imagination may be impressed by painting and comparison, it is nevertheless true, that a great portion of mankind, in what are called civilized countries, are in a state of poverty and wretchedness, far below the condition RIGHTS OF MAN. 391 of an Indian. I speak not of one country, but of all. It is so in England, it is so all over Europe. Let us inquire into the cause. It lies not in any natural defect in the principles of civiliza- tion, but in preventing those principles having an universal operation; the consequence of which is, a perpetual system of war and expense, that drains the country and defeats the gen- eral felicity of which civilization is capable. All the European governments (France now excepted), are constructed not on the principle of universal civilization, but on the reverse of it., So far as those governments relate to each other, they are in the same condition as we conceive of savage uncivilized life; they put themselves beyond the law, as well of God as of man, and are, with respect to principle and reciprocal conduct, like so many individuals in a state of nature. The inhabitants of every country, under the civilization of laws, easily associate together; but governments being in an uncivilized state, and almost continually at war, they pervert the abundance which civilized life produces, to carry on the uncivilized part to a greater extent. By thus ingrafting the barbarism of government upon the internal civilization of the country, it draws from the latter, and more especially from the poor, a great portion of those earnings which should be applied to their subsistence and comfort. Apart from all reflections of morality and philosophy, it is a melancholy fact, that more than one-fourth of the labor of mankind is annually consumed by this barbarous system. What has served to continue this evil, is the pecuniary advantage, which all the governments of Europe have found in keeping up this state of uncivilization. It affords to them pre- tences for power and revenue, for which there would be neither occasion nor apology, if the circle of civilisation were rendered complete. Civil government alone, or the government of laws, is not productive of pretences for many taxes; it operates at home, directly under the eye of the country, and precludes the possibility of much imposition. But when the scene is laid on the uncivilised contention of governments, the field of pretences is enlarged, and the country, being no longer a judge, is open to every imposition which governments please to act. Not a thirtieth, scarcely a fortieth part of the taxes which are raised in England, are either occasioned by, or applied to the purposes of civil government It is not difficult to see that 392 BIGHTS OF MAN. the whole which the actual government does in this respect, is to enact laws, and that the country administers and executes them, at its own expense, by means of magistrates, juries, ses- sions, and assize, over and above the taxes which it pays. In this view of the case, we have two distinct characters of government; the one, the civil government, or the government of laws, which operates at home ; the other, the court or cabinet government, which operates abroad on the rude plan of un- civilized life ; the one attended with little charge, the other with boundless extravagance ; and so distinct are the two, that if the latter were to sink, as it were by a sudden opening of the earth, and totally disappear, the former would not be deranged. It would still proceed, because it is the common interest of the nation that it should, and all the means are in practice. Revolutions, then, have for their object, a change in the moral condition of governments, and with this change the bur- den of public taxes will lessen, and civilization will be left to the enjoyment of that abundance, of which it is now deprived. In contemplating the whole of this subject, I extend my views into the department of commerce. In all my publications, where the matter would admit, I have been an advocate for commerce, because I am a friend to its effects. It is a pacific system, operating to unite mankind, by rendering nations, as well as individuals, useful to each other. As to a mere theo- retical reformation, I have never preached it up. The most effectual process is that of improving the condition of man by means of his interest; and it is on this ground that I take my stand. If commerce were permitted to act to the universal extent it is .capable of, it would extirpate the system of war, and produce a revolution in the uncivilised state of governments. The inven- tion of commerce has arisen since those governments began, and is the greatest approach towards universal civilization, that has yet been made by any means not immediately flowing from moral principles. Whatever has a tendency to promote the civil intercourse of nations, by an exchange of benefits, is a subject as worthy of philosophy as of politics. Commerce is no other than the traffic of two persons, multiplied on a scale of numbers; and by the same rule that nature intended the intercourse of two, she in- tended that of all. For this purpose she has distributed the materials of manufactures and commerce, in various and distant BIGHTS OF MAN. 393 parts of a nation and of the world ; and as they cannot be pro- cured by war so cheaply or so comrnodiously as by commerce, she has rendered the latter the means of extirpating the former. As the two, are nearly the opposites of each other, conse- quently, the uncivilised state of European governments is in- jurious to commerce. Every kind of destruction or embarrass- ment serves to lessen the quantity, and it matters but little in what part of the commercial world the reduction begins. Like blood, it cannot be taken from any of the parts, without being taken from the whole mass in circulation, and all partake of the loss. When the ability in any nation to buy is destroyed, it equally involves the seller. Could the government of England destroy the commerce of all other nations, she would most effec- tually ruin her own. It is possible that a nation may be the carrier for the world, but she cannot be the merchant. She cannot be the seller and the buyer of her own merchandise. The ability to buy must reside out of herself; and, therefore, the prosperity of any com- mercial nation is regulated by the prosperity of the rest. If they are poor, she cannot be rich; and her condition, be it what it may, is an index of the height of the commercial tide in other nations. That the principles of commerce, and its universal operation may be understood, without understanding the practice, is a position that reason will not deny; and it is on this ground only that I argue the subject. It is one thing in the counting- house, in the world it is another. With reswect to its opera- tion, it must necessarily be contemplated as a reciprocal thing, that only one half its powers resides within the nation, and that the whole is as effectually destroyed by destro^fing the half that resides without, as if the destruction had been committed on that which is within, for neither can act without the other. When in the last, as well as in the former wars, the com- merce of England sunk, it was because the general quantity was lessened everywhere ; and it now rises because commerce its in a rising state in every nation. If England, at this day, im- ports and exports more than at any other period, the nation* with which she trades must necessarily do the same; her im- ports are their exports, and vice versa. ' There can be no such thing as a nation nourishing alone in commerce; she can only participate; and the destruction of it in any part must necessarily affect all. When, therefore, gov 394 RIGHTS OF MAN. ernments are at war, the attack is made upon the common stock of commerce, and the consequence is the same as if each had attacked his own. The present increase of commerce is not to b'e attributed to ministers, or to any political contrivances, but to its own natu- ral operations in consequence of peace. The regular markets had been destroyed, the channels of trade broken up, and the high road of the seas infested with robbers of every nation, and the attention of the world called to other objects. Those inter- ruptions have ceased, and peace has restored the deranged con- dition of things to their proper order. * It is worth remarking, that every nation reckons the balance of trade in its own favor; and therefore something must be irregular in the common ideas upon this subject. The fact, however is true, according to what is called a bal- ance; and it is from this cause that commerce is universally supported. Every nation feels the advantage, or it would abandon the practice: but the deception lies in the mode of making up the accounts, and attributing what are called profits to a wrong cause. Mr. Pitt has sometimes amused himself by showing what he called a balance of trade from the custom-house books. This mode of calculation not only affords no rule that is true, but one that is false. In the first place, every cargo that departs from the custom- house, appears on the books as an export ; and according to the custom-house balances, the losses at sea, and by foreign failures, re all reckoned on the side of the profit, because they appear exports. cond, Because the importation by the smuggling trade not appear on the custom-house books, to arrange against exports. o balance, therefore, as applying to superior advantages, be drawn from these documents; and if we examine the ural operation of commerce, the idea is fallacious; and if In America the increase of commerce is greater in proportion than in England. It is, at this time, at least one half more than at any period prior to the revolution. The greatest number of vessels cleared out of the port of Philadelphia, before the commencement of the war, was between eight and nine hundred. In the year 17SS, the number was upwards of twelve hun- dred. As the state of Pennsylvania is estimated as an eighth part of the United States in population, the whole number of vessels must now be nearly ten thousand. RIGHTS OF MAN. 395 true, would soon be injurious. The great support of commerce consists in the balance being a level of benefits among all na- tions. Two merchants of different nations trading together will both become rich, and each make the balance in his own favor; con- sequently they do not get rich out of each other : and it is the same with respect to the nations in which they reside. The case must be, that each nation must get rich out of its own means, and increase that riches by something which it procures from another in exchange. If a merchant in England sends an article of English manu- facture abroad which costs him a shilling at home, and imports something which sells for two, he makes a balance of one shill- ing in his own favor : but this is not gained out of the foreign nation, or the foreign merchant, for he also does the same by the article he receives, and neither has a balance of advantage upon the other. The original value of the two articles in their proper countries were but two shillings ; but by changing their places they acquire a new idea of value, equal to double what they had at first, and that increased value is equally divided. There is no otherwise a balance on foreign than on domestic commerce. The merchants of London and Newcastle trade on the same principle, as if they resided in different nations, and make their balances in the same manner ; yet London does not get rich out of Newcastle any more than Newcastle out of London; but coals, the merchandize of Newcastle, have an additional value at London, and London merchandize has the same at Newcastle. Though the principle of all commerce is the same, the domes- tic, in a national view, is the part the most beneficial ; because the whole of the advantages, on both sides, rest within the nation ; whereas, in foreign commerce, it is only a participation of one half. The most unprofitable of all commerce, is that connected with foreign dominion. To a few individuals it may be bene- ficial, merely because it is commerce: but to the nation it is a loss. The expense of maintaining dominion more than absorbs the profits of any trade. It does not increase the general quan- tity in the world, but operates to lessen it; and as a greater mass would be afloat by relinquishing dominion, the participa- tion without the expense would be more valuable than a greater quantity with it. 396 EIGHTS OF MAN. But it is impossible to engross commerce by dominion ; and therefore it is still more fallacious. It cannot exist in confined channels, and necessarily breaks out by regular or irregular means that defeat the attempt, and to succeed would be still worse. France, since the revolution, has been more than in- different as to foreign possessions; and other nations will be- come the same when they investigate the subject with respect to commerce. To the expense of dominion is to be added that of navies, and when the amount of the two is subtracted from the protits of commerce, it will appear, that what is called the balance of trade, even admitting it to exist, is not enjoyed by the nation, but absorbed by the government. The idea of having navies for the protection of commerce is delusive. It is putting the means of destruction for the means of protection. Commerce needs no other protection than the reciprocal interest which every nation feels in supporting it it is common stock it exists by a balance of advantages to all; and the only interruption it meets, is from the present uncivil- ized state of governments, and which is its common interest to reform.* Quitting this subject, I now proceed to other matters. As it is necessary to include England in the prospect of a general reformation, it is proper to inquire into the defects of its gov- ernment. It is only by each nation reforming its own, that the whole can be improved, and the full benefit of reformation en- joyed. Only partial advantages can flow from partial reforms. France and England are the only two countries in Europe where a reformation in government could have successfully begun. The one secure by the ocean, and the other by the im- mensity of its internal strength, could defy the malignancy ol foreign despotism. But it is with revolutions as with commerce, the advantages increase by their becoming general, and double to either what each would receive alone. As a new system is now opening to the view of the world, the European courts are plotting to counteract it. Alliances, con- trary to all former systems, are agitating, and a common inter- * WTien I saw Mr. Pitt's mode of estimating the balance of trade, in one of his parliamentary speeches, he appeared to me to know nothing of the nature and interests of commerce ; and no man has more wantonly tortured it than himself. During a period of peace, it has been shackled with the calamities of war. Three times has it been thrown into stagnation, and the vessels unmanned by impressing, within less than four years of peace. RIGHTS OF MAN. 397 est of courts is forming against the common interest of man. The combination draws a line that runs throughout Europe, and presents a case so entirely new, as to exclude all calcula- tions from former circumstances. While despotism warred with despotism, man had no interest in the contest; but in a cause that unites the soldier with the citizen, and nation with nation, the despotism of courts, though it feels the danger and meditates revenge, is afraid to strike. No question has arisen within the records of history that pressed with the importance of the present. It is not whether this or that party shall be in or out, or whig or tory, or high or low shall prevail; but whether man shall inherit his rights, and universal civilization take place 1 Whether the fruits of his labor shall be enjoyed by himself, or consumed by the profli- gacy of governments 1 Whether robbery shall be banished from courts, and wretchedness from countries ? When, in countries that are called civilized, we see age going to the work-house and youth to the gallows, something must be wrong in the system of government. It would seem, by the exterior appearance of such countries, that all was happiness ; but there lies hidden from the eye of common observation, a mass of wretchedness that has scarcely any other chance than to expire in poverty or infamy. Its entrance into life is marked with the presage of its fate; and until this is remedied it is in vain to punish. Civil government does not exist by executions; but in mak- ing that provision for the instruction of youth, and the support of age, as to exclude, as much as possible, profligacy from the one, and despair from the other. Instead of this, the resources of a country are lavished upon kings, upon courts, upon hire- lings, imposters and prostitutes; and even the poor themselves, with all their wants upon them, are compelled to support the fraud that oppresses them. Why is it that scarcely any are executed but the poor ? The fact is a proof, among other things, of a wretchedness in their condition Bred up without morals, and cast upon the world without a prospect, they are the exposed sacrifice of vice and legal barbarity. The millions that are superfluously wasted upon governments are more than sufficient to reform those evils, and to benefit the condition of every man in a nation, not included in the purlieus of a court. This I hope to make appear in the progress of this work. RIGHTS OF MAN. It is the nature of compassion to associate with misfortune. In taking up this subject, I seek no recompense I fear no con- sequences. Fortified with that proud integrity, that disdain;- to triumph or to yield, I will advocate the rights of man. At an early period, little more than sixteen years of age, raw and adventurous, and heated with the false heroism of a master* who had served in a man of war, I began the carver of my own fortune, and entered on board the privateer Te.r rible, captain Death. From this adventure I was happily pre vented by the affectionate and moral remonstrance of a good father, who, from his own habits of life, being of the Quake) profession, must have begun to look upon me as lost. But thr impression, much as it effected at the time, began to wear away . and I entered afterwards in the privateer, King of Prussia. captain Mendez, and went in her to sea. Yet from such n beginning, and with all the inconveniences of early life against me, I am proud to say, that with a perseverance undismayed by difficulties, a disinterestedness that compels respect, I have not only contributed to raise a new empire in the world, founded on a new system of government, but I have arrived at an eminence in political literature, the most difficult of all lines to succeed and excel in, which aristocracy, with all its aids, has not been able to reach or to rival. Knowing my own heart, and feeling myself, as I now do, superior to all the skirmish of party, the inveteracy of interested or mistaken opponents, I answer not to falsehood or abuse, but proceed to the defects of the English Government.! Rev. William Knowles, master of the grammar school at Thetford, Norfolk. t Politics and self-interest have been so uniformly connected, that the world, from being so often deceived, has a right to be suspicious of public characters ; but with regard to myself, I am perfectly easy on this head. I did not, at my first setting out in public life nearly seventeen years ago. turn my thoughts to subjects of government from motives of interest and my conduct from that moment to this, proves the fact. I saw an oppor- tunity in which I thought I could do some good, and I followed exactly what my heart dictated. I neither read books, nor studied other peopleV 9pinions. I thought for myself. The case was this : During the suspension of the old governments in America, both before and at the breaking out of hostilities, I was struck with the order and de- corum with wbich everything was conducted ; and impressed with the idea that a little more than what society naturally performed was all the govern- ment that was necessary, and that monarchy and aristocracy were frauds and impositions upon mankind. 1 On these principles I published the pamph- let "Common Senee." The success it met with was beyond anything since '.he invntion of printing I trave to every state in the union . RIGHTS OF MAN. [ begin with charters and corporations. It is a perversion of terms to say that a charter gives rights. It operates by a contrary effect, that of taking rights away. and the demand ran to not less than one hundred thousand copies. I con- tinued the subject in the same manner, under the title of "The Crisis," till the complete establishment of the revolution. After the declaration of independence, congress, unanimously and un- known to me, appointed me secretary in the foreign department. This was agreeable to me, because it gave me an opportunity of seeing into the abilities of foreign courts, and their manner of doing business. But a mis- understanding arising between congress and me, respecting one of their commissioners, then in Europe, Mr. Silas Deane, I resigned the office. When the war ended, I went from Philadelphia to Bordentown, on the east bank of the Delaware, where I have a small place. Congress was at this time at Princeton, fifteen miles distant; and General Washington's head-quarters were at Rocky-Hill, within the neighborhood of congress, for the purpose of resigning his commission (the object for which he accepted it being accomplished) and of retiring to private life. While he was on this business, he wrote me the letter which I here subjoin. ROCKY HILL, Sept. 10, 1783. I have learned since I have been at this place, that you are at Borden- town. Whether for the sake of retirement or economy, I know not. Be it for either, for both, or whatever it may, if you will come to this place and partake with me, I shall be exceedingly happy to see you. Your presence may remind congress of your past services to this country, and if it is in my power to impress them, command my best exertions with freedom, as they will be rendered cheerfully by one who entertains a lively sense of the importance of your works, and who, with much pleasure, sub- scribes himself, Your sincere friend, G. WASHINGTON. During the war, in the latter end of the year 1780, I formed to myself the design of coming over to England, and communicated it to General Greene, who was then in Philadelphia, on his route to the southward. General Washington being then at too great a distance to communicate with imme- diately. I was strongly impressed with the idea that if I could get over to England, without being known, and only remain in safety till I could get out a publication, I could open the eyes of the country with respect to the madness and stupidity of its government. I saw that the parties in parlia- ment had pitted themselves as far as they could go, and could make no new impressions on each other. General Greene entered fully into my views, but the affair of Arnold and Andre happening just after, he changed his mind, and, under strong apprehensions for my safety, wrote to me very pressingly from Annapolis, in Maryland, to give up the design, which, with some reluctance, I did. Soon after this I accompanied Colonel Laurena (son of Mr. Laurens, who was then in the Tower) to France, on business from congress. We landed at 1'Orient, and while I remained there, he be- ing gone forward, a circumstance occurred that renewed my former design. An English packet from Falmouth to New York, with government de- spatches on board, was brought into 1'Orient. That a packet should be taken, is no very extraordinary thing ; but that the despatches should be taken with it will scarcely be credited, as tkey are always slung at the 400 RIGHTS OF MAN. Rights are inherently in all the inhabitants ; but charters, by annulling those rights in the majority, leave the right, by ex- clusion, in the hands of a few. If charters were constructed so as to express in direct terms, " that every inhabitant, who is not a member of a corporation, shall not exercise the right oj voting" such charters would in the face be charters, not of rights, but of exclusion. The effect is the same under the form they now stand; and the only persons on whom they operate are the persons whom they exclude. Those whose rights are guaranteed, by not being taken away, exercise no other rights than as members of the community they are en- titled to without a charter; and therefore, all charters have no other than an indirect negative operation. They do not give rights to A, but they make a difference in favor of A, by taking away the rights of B, and consequently are instruments of injustice. But charters and corporations have a more extensive evil ef feet than what relates merely to elections. They are sources of endless contention in the places where they exist; and they lessen the common rights of national society. A native of Eng- land, under the operations of these charters and corporations- cannot be said to be an Englishman in the full sense of the word, He is not free of the nation, in the same manner that a French, man is free of France, and an American of America. His rights are circumscribed to the town, and, in some cases, to the parish of his birth ; and in all other parts, though in his native land, he must undergo a local naturalization by purchase, or he is for- bidden or expelled the place. This species of feudality is kept cabin window, in a bag loaded with cannon ball, and ready to be sunk in a moment. The fact, however, is as I have stated it, for the despatches came into my hands, and I read them. The capture, as I was informed, succeeded by the following stratagem: the captain of the privateer Madame, who spoke English, on coming up with the packet, passed himself for the captain of an English frigate, and invited the captain of the packet on board, which, when done, he sent some of his hands and secured the mail. But lie the circumstances of the capture what they may, I speak with certainty as to the despatches. They were sent up to Paris, to count Vergennes, and when Colonel Laurens and myself returned to America, we took the originals to congress. By these despatches I saw further into the stupidity of the English cabines than I otherwise could have done, and I renewed my former design. But Colonel Laurens was so unwilling to return alone, more especially, as among other matters, he had a charge of upwards of two hundred thousand pound . sterling in money, that I gave in to his wishes, and finally gave up my plant But I am now certain, that if I could have executed it, it would not have been altogether unsuccessful. RIGHTS OF MAN. 401 up to aggrandize the corporations to the ruin of the towns; and the effect is visible. The generality of corporation towns are in a state of solitary ,l(>cay, and prevented from further ruin only by some circum- stances in their situation, such as a navigable river, or a plenti- ful surrounding country. As population is one of the chief > lurces of wealth (for without it land itself has no value), every- tiling which operates to prevent it must lessen the value of pro- j.erty; and as corporations have not only this tendency, but " are capable of service, or of being apprenticed. I lowing five children (under fourteen years) to every two fanuiies, The number of children will be 630,000 The number of parents, were they all living, would be. . 504,000 It is certain that if the children are provided for, the parents are relieved of consequences, because it is from the expense of bringing up children that their poverty arises. Having thus ascertained the greatest number that can be supposed to need support on account of young families, I pro- ceed to the mode of relief, or distribution, which is, To pay as a remission of taxes to every poor family, out of the surplus taxes, and in room of poor-rates, four pounds a year for every child under fourteen years of age; enjoining the parents of such children to send them to school, to learn read- ing, writing, and common arithmetic; the ministers of every parish, of every denomination, to certify jointly to an office, for this purpose, that the duty is performed. 418 RIGHTS OF MAN. The amount of this expense will be, for six hundred and thirty thousand children, at .4 each per annum, 2,520,000. By adopting this method, not only the poverty of the parents will be relieved, but ignorance will be banished from the rising generation, and the number of poor will hereafter become less, because their abilities by the aid of education, will be greater. Many a youth, with good natural genius, who is apprenticed to a mechanical trade, such as a carpenter, wheelwright, black- smith, f taxes and rates, 14 17s. 6d. for six persons, 17 17s. for seven persons, 20 16s. 6d. The average of taxes in America, under the new or representative system of government, including the interest of the debt contracted in the war, and taking the population at four millions of souls, which it now amounts to, and is daily increasing, is five shillings per head, men, women, and children. The difference, therefore, between the two governments, is as under : England. America. For * family of five persons . . 14 17s. 6d. 1 5s. Od. For ft family of six persons . . 17 17 1 10 For family of seven persons . 20 16 6 1 15 RIGHTS OF MAN. 421 Suppose then four hundred thousand children to be in this condition, which is a greater number than ought to be supposed, after the provisions already made, the method will be, To allow for each of those children ten shillings a-year for the expenses of schooling, for six years each, which will give them six months' schooling each year, and half a crown a-year for paper and spelling books. The expense of this will be annually* 250,000. There will then remain one hundred and ten thousand pounds. Notwithstanding the great modes of relief which the best in- stituted and best principled government may devise, there wil) still be a number of smaller cases, which it is good policy as well as beneficence in a nation to consider. Were twenty shillings to be given to every woman imme- diately on the birth of a child, who should make the demand, and none will make it whose circumstances do not require it, it might relieve a great deal of instant distress. There are about two hundred thousand births yearly in Eng- land; and if claimed by one-fourth, the amount would be 50,000. And twenty shillings to every new married couple who should claim in like manner. This would not exceed the sum of 20,000. Also twenty thousand pounds to be appropriated to defray the funeral expenses of persons, who, travelling for work, may die at a distance from their friends. By relieving parishes from this charge, the sick stranger will be better treated. I shall finish this part of my subject with a plan adapted to the particular condition of a metropolis, such as London. Cases are continually occurring in a metropolis different from those which occur in the country, and for which a different, or rather an additional mode of relief is necessary. In the country, * Public schools do not answer the general purpose of the poor. They are chiefly in corporation-towns, from which the country towns and villages are excluded or if admitted, the distance occasions a great loss of time. Educa- tion, to be useful to the poor, should be on the spot and the best method, I believe, to accomplish this, is to enable the parents to pay the expense themselves. There are always persons of both sexes to be found in every village, especially when growing into years, capable of such an undertaking. Twenty children, at ten shillings each (and that not more than six months in each year), would be as much as some livings amount to in the remote parts of England and there are often distressed clergymen's widows to whom such an income would be acceptable. Whatever is given on this ac- count to children answers two purposes ; to them it is education, to those who educate them it is a livelihood. 422 RIGHTS OF MAN. even in large towns, people have a knowledge of each other, and distress never rises to that extreme height it sometimes does in a metropolis. There is no such thing in the country as persons, in the literal sense of the word, starved to death, or dying with cold for the want of a lodging. Yet such cases, and others equally as miserable, happen in London. Many a youth comes up to London full of expectations, and little or no money, and unless he gets employment he is already half undone; and boys bred up in London without any means of a livelihood, and, as it often happens, of dissolute parents, are in a still worse condition, and servants long out of place are not much better off. In short, a world of little cases are con- tinually arising, which busy or affluent life knows not of, to open the first door to distress. Hunger is not among the post- ponable wants, and a day, even a few hours, in such a con- dition, is often the crisis of a life of ruin. These circumstances, which are the general cause of the little thefts and pilferings that lead to greater, may be prevented. There yet remain twenty thousand pounds out of the four mil- lions of surplus taxes, which, with another fund hereafter to be mentioned, amounting to about twenty thousand pounds more, cannot be better applied than to this purpose. The plan then will be, 1st, To erect two or more buildings, or take some already erected, capable of containing at least six thousand persons, and to have in each of these places as many kinds of employment as can be contrived, so that every person who shall come may find something which he or she can do. 2nd, To receive all who shall come, without inquiring who or what they are. The only condition to be, that for so much or so many hours' work, each person shall receive so many meals of wholesome food, and a warm lodging, at least as good as a bar- rack. That a certain portion of what each person's work shall be worth shall be reserved, and given to him, or her, on their going away ; and that each person shall stay as long, or as short time, or come as often as he chooses, on these conditions. If each person stayed three months, it would assist by rotation twenty-four thousand persons annually, though the real num- ber, at all times, would be but six thousand. By establishing an asylum of this kind, such persons, to whom temporary dis- tresses occur, would have an opportunity to recruit themselves, and be enabled to look out for better employment RIGHTS OF MAN. 423 Allowing that their labor paid but one-halt the expense of supporting them, after reserving a portion of their earnings for themselves, the sum of forty thousand pounds additional would defray all other charges for even a greater number than six thousand. The fund very properly convertible to this purpose, in addi- tion to the twenty thousand pounds, remaining of the former fund, will be the produce of the tax upon coals, and so iniqiu- tously and wantonly applied to the support of the duke of Richmond. It is horrid that any man, more especially at the price coals now are, should live on the distresses of a commun- ity; and any government permitting such an abuse deserves to be dissolved. This fund is said to be about twenty thousand pounds per annum. I shall now conclude this plan with enumerating the several particulars, and then proceed to other matters. The enumeration is as follows: 1st, Abolition of two millions poor-rates. 2nd, Provision for two hundred and fifty -two thousand poor families. 3rd, Education for one million and thirty thousand children. 4th, Comfortable provision for one hundred and forty thou- sand aged persons. 5th, Donation of twenty shillings each for fifty thousand births. 6th, Donation of twenty shillings each for twenty thousand marriages. 7th, Allowance of twenty thousand pounds for the funeral expenses of persons travelling for work, and dying at a distance from their friends. 8th, Employment, at all times, for the casnal poor in the cities of London and Westminster. By the operation of this plan, the poor laws, those instru- ments of civil torture, will be superseded, and the wasteful expense of litigation prevented. The hearts of the humane will not be shocked by ragged and hungry children, and peisons of seventy and eighty years of age begging for bread. The dying poor will not be dragged from place to place to breathe their last, as a reprisal of parish upon parish. Widows will have a maintenance for their children, and not be carted away, on the death of their husbands, like culprits and criminals; and children will no longer be considered as increasing the 424 RIGHTS OF MAN. distress of their parents. The haunts of the wretched will be known, because it will be to their advantage; and the number of petty crimes, the offspring of distress and poverty, will be lessened. The poor, as well as the rich, will then be inter- ested in the support of government, and the cause and appre- hension of riots and tumults will cease. Ye who sit in ease, and solace yourselves in plenty, and such there are in Turkey and Russia, as well as in England, and who say to yourselves, 44 Are we not well off," have ye thought of these things ? When ye do, ye will cease to speak and feel for yourselves alone. The plan is easy in practice. It does not embarrass trade by a sudden interruption in the order of taxes, but effects the relief by changing the application of them; and the more neces- sary for the purpose, can be drawn from the excise collections, which are made eight times a-year in every market town in England. Having now arranged and concluded this subject, I proceed to the next. Taking the present current expenses at seven millions and a half, which is the least amount they are now at, there will remain (after the sum of one million and a half be taken for the new current expenses, and four millions for the beforemen- tioned service) the sum of two millions, part of which to be applied as follows: Though fleets and armies, by an alliance with France, will, in a great measure, become useless, yet the persons who have devoted themselves to those services, and have thereby unfitted themselves for other lines of life, are not to be sufferers by the means that make others happy. They are a different descrip- tion of men to those who form or hang about a court. A part of the army will remain at least for some years, and also of the navy, for which a provision is already made, in the former part of this plan, of one million, which is almost half a million more than the peace establishment of the army and navy in the prodigal times of Charles II. Suppose then fifteen thousand soldiers to be disbanded, and to allow to each of those men three shillings a week during life, clear of all deductions, to be paid in the same manner as the Chelsea College pensioners are paid, and for them to return to their trades and their friends; and also to add fifteen thou- sand sixpences per week to the pay of the soldiers who shall remain; the annual expense will be, RIGHTS OF MAN. 425 To the pay ot fifteen thousand disbanded soldiers, at three shil- lings per week 117,000 Additional pay to the remaining soldiers 19,500 Suppose that the pay to the officers of the disbanded corps be of the same amount as the sum allowed to the men .... 117,000 253,500 To prevent bulky estimations, admit the same sum to the dis- banded navy as to the army, and the same increase of pay . 253,500 Total 507,000 Every year some part of this sum of half a million (I omit the odd seven thousand pounds, for the purpose of keeping the account unembarrassed) will fall in, and the whole of it in time, as it is on the ground of life annuities, except the in- creased pay of thirty-nine thousand pounds. As it falls in, a part of the taxes may be taken off; for instance, when thirty thousand pounds fall in, the duty on hops may be wholly taken off; and as other parts fall in, the duties on candles and soap may be lessened, till at last they will totally cease. There now remains at least one million and a half of surplus taxes. The tax on houses and windows is one of those direct taxes, which, like the poor-rates, is not confounded with trade ; and when taken of, the relief will be instantly felt. This tax falls heavy on the middle class of people. The amount of this tax by the returns of 1788, was, Houses and windows by the act of 1766 385,459 1U 7d. by the act of 1779 130,739 14 5$ Total 516,199 6 If this tax be struck off, there will then remain about one million of surplus taxes, and as it is always proper to keep a sum in reserve, for incidental matters, it may be best not to extend reductions further, in the first instance, but to consider what may be accomplished by other modes of reform. Among the taxes most heavily felt is the commutation tax. I shall, therefore, offer a plan for its abolition, by substituting another in its place, which will effect three objects at once: 1st, That of removing the burden to where it can best be borne. 2nd, Restoring justice among families by distribution of property. 3rd, Extirpating the overgrown influence arising from the unnatural law of primogeniture, and which is one of the prin- cipal sources of corruption at elections. 426 BIGHTS OF MAN. The amount of the commutation tax by the returns of 1788 was 771,657. When taxes are proposed, the country is amused by the plausible language of taxing luxuries. One thing is called a luxury at one time, and something else at another; but the real luxury does not consist in the article, but in the means ol procuring it, and this is always kept out of sight. I know not why any plant or herb of the field should be a greater luxury in one country than another, but an over- grown estate in either is a luxury at all times, and, as such, is the proper object of taxation. It is, therefore, right to take those kind tax-making gentlemen up on their own word, and argue on the principle themselves have laid down, that of taxing luxuries. If they, or their champion, Mr. Burke, who, I fear, is growing out of date like the man in armor, can prove that an estate of twenty, thirty, or forty, thousand pounds a-year is not a luxury, I will give up the argument. Admitting that any annual sum, say, for instance, one thou- sand pounds, is necessary or sufficient for the support of a family, consequently the second thousand is of the nature of a luxury, the third still more so, and by proceeding on, we shall at last arrive at a sum that may not improperly be called a prohibitable luxury. It would be impolitic to set bounds to property acquired by industry, and therefore it is right to place the prohibition beyond the probable acquisition to which in- dustry can extend; but there ought to be a limit to property, or the accumulation of it by bequest. It should pass in some other line. The richest in every nation have poor relations, and those often very near in consanguinity. The following table of progressive taxation is constructed on the above principles, and as a substitute for the commuta- tion tax. It will reach the point of prohibition by a regular operation, and thereby supersede the aristocratical law of primogeniture. TABLE I. A tax on all estates of the clear yearly value of 60, after deducting the land tax, and up to 500 Os. 3d. per pound From 500 to 1000 06 tf On the 2nd thousand 09 " "3rd " -.10 "4th " 16 And so on, adding la per pound on every additional thousand. RIGHTS OF MAN. 427 At' the twenty-third thousand the tax becomes twenty shil- lings in the pound, and, consequently, every thousand beyond that sum, can produce no profit but by dividing the estate. Yet, formidable as this tax appears, it will not, I believe, produce so much as the commutation tax; should it produce more, it ought to be lowered to that amount upon estates under two or three thousand a-year. On small and middling estates it is lighter (as it is intended to be) than the commutation tax. It is not till after seven or eight thousand a-year, that it begins to be heavy. The object is not so much the produce of the tax as the justice of the meas- ure. The aristocracy has screened itself too much, and this serves to restore a part of the lost equilibrium. As an instance of its screening itself, it is only necessary to look back to the first establishment of the excise laws, at what is called the revolution, or the coming of Charles II. The aris- tocratical interest then in power, commuted the feudal services itself was under, by laying a tax on beer brewed for sale; that is, they compounded with Charles for an exemption from those services for themselves and their heirs, by a tax to be paid by other people. The aristocracy do not purchase beer brewed for sale, but brew their own beer free of the duty, and if any commu- tation at that time was necessary, it ought to have been at the expense of those for whom the exemptions from those services were intended;* instead of which, it was thrown on an entire different class of men. But the chief object of his progressive tax (besides the jus- tice of rendering taxes more equal then they are) is, as already stated, to extirpate the overgrown influence arising from the un- natural law of primogeniture, and which is one of the principal sources of corruption at elections. It would be attended with no good consequences to inquire how such vast estates as thirty, forty, or fifty thousand a-year could commence, and that at a time when commerce and man- ufactures were not in a state to admit of such acquisitions. Let it be sufficient to remedy the evil by putting them in a condi- tion of descending again to the community by the quiet means of * The tax on beer brewed for sale, from which the aristocracy are exempt, is almost one million more then the present commutation tax, being by the returns of 1788, 1,666,152 and, consequently, they ought to take on them- selves the amount of the commutation tax, as they are already exempted from one which is almost a million greater 428 RIGHTS OF MAN. apportioning them among all the heirs and heiresses of those families. This will be the more necessary, because hitherto the aristocracy have quartered their younger children and connex- ions upon the public, in useless posts, places and offices, which, when abolished, will leave them destitute, unless the law oi primogeniture be also abolished or superseded. A progressive tax will, in a great measure, effect this object, and that as a matter of interest to the parties most imme- diately concerned, as will be seen by the following table ; which shows the nett produce upon every estate, after subtracting the tax. By this it will appear, that after an estate exceeds thirteen or fourteen thousand a-year, the remainder produces but little profit to the holder, and consequently, will either pass to the younger children or to other kindred. TABLE II, Showing the nett produce of every estate from one thousand to twenty-three thousand pounds a-year. No. of thousands per arm. Total tax subtracted. | Nett produce. 1,000 21 979 2,000 59 1,941 3,000 109 2,891 4,000 184 3,861 5,000 284 4,716 6,000 434 5,566 7,000 634 6,366 8,000 880 7,120 9,000 1,180 7,820 10,000 1,530 8,470 11,000 1,930 9,070 12,000 2,380 9,620 13, (XX) 2,880 10,120 14,000 3,430 10,570 15,000 4,030 10,970 16,000 4,680 11,320 17,000 5,380 11,620 18,000 6,130 11,870 19,000 6,830 12,170 20,000 7,780 12,220 21,000 8,680 12,320 22,000 . 9,030 12.370 23,000 10,630 12,370 N.B. The odd shillings are dropped with this table. EIGHTS OF MAN. 429 According to this table, an estate cannot produce more than 12,370 clear of the land tax, and the progressive tax, and therefore the dividing such estates will follow as a matter of family interest. An estate of 23,000 a-year, divided into five estates of four thousand each and one of three, will be charged only 1129 which is but five per cent., but if held by any one possessor, will be charged 10,630. Although an inquiry into the origin of those estates be un- necessary, the continuation of them in the present state is an- other subject. It is a matter of national concern. As heredi- tary estates, the law has created the evil, and it ought also to provide the remedy. Primogeniture ought to be abolished, not only because it is unnatural and unjust, but because the coun- try suffers by its operation. By cutting off (as before observed) the younger children from their proper portion of inheritance, the public is loaded with the expense of maintaining them ; and the freedom of elections violated by the overbearing influence which this unjust monopoly of family property produces. Nor is this all. It occasions a waste of national property. A con- siderable part of the land of the country is rendered unpro- ductive by the great extent of parks and chases which this law serves to keep up, and this at a time when the annual pro- duction of grain is not equal to the national consumption.* In short, the evils of the aristocratical system are so great and numerous, so inconsistent with everything that is just, wise, natural and beneficent, that when they are considered, there ought not to be a doubt that many, who are now classed under that description, will wish to see such a system abolished. What pleasure can they derive from contemplating the ex- posed condition, and almost certain beggary of their younger offspring] Every aristocratical family has an appendage of family beggars hanging round it, which in a few ages or a few generations, are shook off, and console themselves with telling their tale in alms-houses, work-houses, and prisons. This is the natural consequence of aristocracy. The peer and the beggar are often of the same family. One extreme produces the other: to make one rich many must be made poor; neither can the system be supported by other means. There are two classes of people to whom the laws of England are particularly hostile, and those the most helpless; younger children, and the poor. Of the former I have just spoken; of *See the "Reports on the Corn Trade." 430 RIGHTS OF MAK. the latter I shall mention one instance out of the many that might be produced, and with which 1 shall close this subject. Several laws are in existence for regulating and limiting workmen's wages. Why not leave them as free to make their own bargains, as the law-makers are to let their farms and houses'? Personal labor is all the property they have. Why is that little, and the little freedom they enjoy, to be infringed? But the injustice will appear stronger, if we consider the oper- ation and effect of such laws. When wages are fixed by what is called a law the legal wages remain stationary, while every- thing else is progression; and as those who make that law, still continue to lay on new taxes by other laws, they increase thn expense of living by one law, and take away the means by another. But if these gentlemen law-makers and tax-makers thought i t right to limit the poor pittance which personal labor can pro- duce, and on which a whole family is to be supported, they cer tainly must feel themselves happily indulged in a limitation on their own part, of not less than twelve thousand a-year, aiul that of property they never acquired (nor probably any of their ancestors), and of which they have made so ill use. Having now finished this subject, I shall bring the several particulars into one view, and then proceed to other matters. The first eight articles are brought forward from p. 423. 1st. Abolition of two millions of poor-rates. 2nd. Provision for two hundred and fifty-two thousand poor families, at the rate of four pounds per head for each child under fourteen years of age; which, with the addition of two hundred and fifty thousand pounds, provides also education for one million and thirty thousand children. 3rd. Annuity of six pounds per annum each for all poor persons, decayed tradesmen and others, supposed seventy thou- sand, of the age of fifty years, and until sixty. 4th. Annuity of ten pounds each for life for all poor per- sons, decayed tradesmen and others, supposed seventy thousand, of the age of sixty years. 5th, Donation of twenty shillings each for fifty thousand births. 6th. Donation of twenty shillings each for twenty thousand marriages. 7th. Allowance of twenty thousand pounds for the funen'' EIGHTS OF MAN. 431 expanses of persons travelling for work, and dying at a distance from their friends. 8th. Employment at all times for the casual poor in the cities of London and Westminster. Second enumeration : 9th. Abolition of the tax on houses and windows. 10th. Allowance of three shillings per week for life to fifteen thousand disbanded soldiers, and a proportionate allowance to the officers of the disbanded corps. llth. Increase of pay to the remaining soldiers of 19,500 annually. 12th. The same allowance to the disbanded navy, and the same increase of pay as to the army. 13th. Abolition of the commutation tax. 14th. Plan of a progressive tax operating to extirpate the unjust and unnatural law of primogeniture, and the vicious in- fluence of the aristocratical system.* There yet remains, as already stated, one million of surplus taxes. Some part of this will be required for circumstances that do not immediately present themselves, and such part as shall not be wanted will admit of a further .reduction of taxes equal to that amount. Among the claims that justice requires to be made, the con- * When inquiries are made into the condition of the poor, various degrees of distress will most probably be found, to render a different arrangement preferable to that which is already proposed. Widows with families will be in greater want than where there are husbands living. There is also a dif- ference in the expense of living in different countries and more so in fueL Suppose fifty thousand extraordinary cases, at the rate of ten pounds per family per ann 500,000 100,000 families, at 8 per family per ann 800,000 100,000 families, at 7 per " " 700,000 104,000 families, at 5 per " " 520,000 And instead of ten shillings per head for the education of other children, to allow fifty shillings per family for that purpose to fifty thousand families 250,000 2,770,000 140,000 aged persons as before 1,120,000 Total 3,890,000 This arrangement amounts to the same sum as stated in p. 420, including the 250,000 for education: but it provides (including the aged people) for four hundred and f ou , \}--wtaf> * families, which is almost one-third of all the families in England. 432 RIGHTS OF MAN. dition of the inferior revenue officers will merit attention. It is a reproach to any government to waste such an immensity of revenue in sinecures and nominal and unnecessary places and offices, and not allow even a decent livelihood to those on whom the labor falls. The salary of the inferior officers of the revenue has stood at the petty pittance of less than fifty pounds a-year, for upwards of one hundred years. It ought to be seventy. About one hundred and twenty thousand pounds applied to this purpose will put all those salaries in a decent condition. This was proposed to be done almost twenty years ago, but the treasury board then in being, startled at it, as it might lead to similar expectations from the army and navy; and the event was that the king, or somebody for him, applied to par- liament to have his own salary raised a hundred thousand pounds a-year, which being done, everything else was kid aside. With respect to another class of men, the inferior clergy, I forbear to enlarge on their condition; but all partialities and prejudices for or against, different modes and forms of religion aside, common justice will determine whether there ought to be an income of twenty or thirty pounds a-year to one man and of ten thousand to another. I speak on this subject with the more freedom, because I am known not to be a Presbyter- ian ; and therefore the cannery of court sycophants, about church and meeting, kept up to amuse and bewilder the nation, cannot be raised against me. Ye simple men on both sides the question, do you not see through this courtly craft? If ye can be kept disputing and wrangling about church and meeting, ye just answer the pur- pose of every courtier, who lives a while on the spoil of the taxes, and laughs at your credulity. Every religion is good that teaches man to be good ; and I know of none that in- structs him to be bad. All the beforementioned calculations, suppose only sixteen millions and an half of taxes paid into the exchequer, after the expense of collection and drawbacks at the custom-house and excise-office are deducted ; whereas the sum paid into the ex- chequer is very nearly, if not quite, seventeen millions. The taxes raised in Scotland and Ireland are expended in those countries, and therefore their savings will come out of their own taxes : but if any part be paid into the English exchequer, it RIGHTS OF MAN. 433 might be remitted. This will not make one hundred thousand pounds a year difference. There now remains only the national debt to be considered. In the year 1789, the interest, exclusive of the tontine, was .9,150,138. How much the capital has been reduced since that time the minister best knows. But after paying the in- terest, abolishing the tax on houses and windows, the commut- ation tax and the poor-rates, and making all the provisions for the poor, for the education of children, the support of the aged, the disbanded part of the army and navy, and increasing the pay of the remainder, there will be a surplus of one million. The present scheme of paying off the national debt appears to me, speaking as an indifferent person, to be an ill-concerted, if not a fallacious job. The burden of the national debt con- sists not in its being so many millions, or so many hundred millions, but in the quantity of taxes collected every year to pay the interest. If this quantity continues the same, the burden of the national debt is the same to all intents and pur- poses, be the capital more or less. The only knowledge which the puplic can have of the reduction of the debt, must be through the reduction of taxes for paying the interest. The debt, therefore, is not reduced one farthing to the public by all the millions that been paid ; and it would require more money now to purchase up the capital, than when the scheme began. Digressing for a moment at this point, to which I shall re- turn attain, I look back to the appointment of Mr. Pitt, an minister I was then iia America. The war was over ; and though re- sentment had ceased, memory was still alive. When the news of the coalition arrived, though it was a matter of no concern to me as a citizen of America, I felt it as a man. It had something in it which shocked, by publicly sporting with decency, if not with principle. It was impudence in Lord North ; it was a want of firmness in Mr. Fox. Mr. Pitt was, at that time, what may be called a maiden character in politics. So far from being hackneyed, he appeared not to be initiivted into the first mysteries of court intrigue. Everything was in his favor. Resentment against the coalition served as friendship to him, and his ignorance of vice was credited for viitue. With the return of peace, commerce and prosperity waild rise of itself, j yet even this increase was thrown to hi nccount RIGHTS OF MAN. When h came to the helm, the storm was over, and he had nothing to interrupt his course. It required even ingenuity to be wrong, and he succeeded. A little time showed him the same sort of man as his predecessors had been. Instead of profiting by those errors which had accumulated a burden of taxes unparalleled in the world, he sought, I might almost say, he advertised for enemies, and provoked means to increase tax- ation. Aiming at something, he knew not what, he ransacked Europe and India for adventures, and abandoning the fair pre- tensions he began with, became the knight-errant of modern times. It is unpleasant to see character throw itself away. It is more so to see one's self deceived. Mr. Pitt had merited no- thing, but he promised much. He gave symptoms of a mind superior to the meanness and corruption of courts. His appar- ent candor encouraged expectations; and the public confidence, stunned, wearied, and confounded by a chaos of parties, revived and attached itself to him. But mistaking, as he has done, the disgust of the nation against the coalition for merit in himself, he has rushed into measures which a man less supported would not have presumed to act. All this seems to show that change of ministers amounts to nothing. One goes out, another comes in, and still the same measures, vices, and extravagance are pursued. It signifies not who is minister. The defect lies in the system. The foundation and the superstructure of the government is bad. Prop it as you please, it continually sinks into court government and ever will. I return, as I promised, to the subject of the national debt, that offspring of the Anglo-Dutch revolution, and its handmaid, the Hanover succession. But it is now too late to inquire how it began. Those to whom it is due have advanced the money; and whether it was well or ill spent, or pocketed, is not their crime. It is, howe ver, easy to see, tliat as the nation proceeds in contemplating the nature and principles of government, and to understand taxes', and make comparisons between those of America, France, and England, it will be next to impossible to keep it in the same torpid state it has hitherto been. Some reform must, from the necessity of the case, soon begin. It is not whether these prin- ciples press with little or much force in the present moment. They are out. They are abroad in the world, and no force can top them. Like a secret told, they are beyond recall : and Lo RIGHTS OF MAN. 435 must be blind indeed that does not see that a change is already beginning. Nine millions of dead taxes is $ serious thing; and this not only for bad, but in a great measure for foreign government By putting the power of making war into the hands of the foreigners who came for what they could get, little else was to be expected than what has happened. Reasons are already advanced in this work, showing that whatever the reforms in the taxes may be, they ought to be made in the current expenses of government, and not in the part applied to the interest of the national debt. By remitting the taxes of the poor, they will be totally relieved and all dis- content will be taken away; and by striking off such of the taxes as are already mentioned, the nation will more than re- cover the whole expense of the mad American war. There will then remain only the national debt as a subject of discontent, and in order to remove, or rather to prevent this, it would be good policy in the stockholders themselves to consider it as property, subject, like all other property, to bear some por- tion of the taxes. It would give to it both popularity and security, and, as a great part of its present inconvenience is balanced by the capital which it keeps alive, a measure of this kind would so far add to that balance as to silence objections. This may be done by such gradual means as to accomplish all that is necessary with the greatest ease and convenience. Instead of taxing the capital, the best method would be to tax the interest by some progressive ratio, and to lessen the public taxes in the same proportion as the interest diminished. Suppose the interest was taxed one halfpenny in the pound the first year, a penny more the second, and to proceed by a certain ratio to be determined upon, always less than any other tax upon property. Such a tax would be subtracted from the interest at the time of payment, without any expense of collection. One halfpenny in the pound would lessen the interest, and consequently the taxes, twenty thousand pounds. The tax on wagons amounts to this sum, and this tax might be taken off the tirst year. The second year the tax on female servants, or some other of the like amount might also be taken off, and by proceeding in this manner, always applying the tax raised from the property of the debt towards its extinction, and not carry- ing it to the current services, it would liberate itself. 436 RIGHTS OF MAN. The stockholders, notwithstanding this tax, would pay less taxes than they do now. What they would save by the extinc- tion of the poor-rates, and the tax on houses and windows, and the commutation tax, would be considerably greater than what this tax, slow, but certain in its operation, amounts to. It appears to me to be prudence to look out for measures that may apply under any circumstance that may approach. There is, at this moment, a crisis in the affairs of Europe that requires it. Preparation now is wisdom. If taxation be once let loose, it will be difficult to reinstate it; neither would the relief be so effectual, as if it proceeded by some certain and gradual reduction. The fraud, hypocrisy, and imposition of governments are now beginning to be too well understood to promise them any longer career. The farce of monarchy and aristocracy, in all countries, is foil owing that of chivalry, and Mr. Burke is dress- ing for the funeral. Let it then pass quietly to the tomb of all other follies, and the mourners be comforted. The time is not very distant, when England will laugh at itself for sending to Holland, Hanover, Zell, or Brunswick for men, at the expense of a million a-year, who understood neither her laws, her language, nor her interest, and whose capacities would scarcely have fitted them for the office of a parish con- stable. If government could be trusted to such hands, it must be some easy and simple thing indeed, and materials fit for all the purposes may be found in every town and village in Eng- land. When it shall be said in any country in the world, my poor are happy ; neither ignorance nor distress is to be found among them; my jails are empty of prisoners, my streets of beggars; the aged are not in want, the taxes are not oppressive: the rational world is my friend, because I am the friend of its happiness: when these things can be said, then may that country boast of its constitution and its government. Within the space of a few years we have seen two revolutions, those of America and France. In the former, the contest was long and the conflict severe; in the latter, the nation acted with such a consolidated impulse, that having no foreign enemy to contend with, the revolution was complete in power the mo- ment it appeared. From both those instances, it is evident that the greatest forces that can be brought into the field of revolutions are reason and common interest. Where these can RIGHTS OF MAN. 437 have the opportunity of acting, opposition dies with fear, or crumbles away by conviction. It is a great standing which they have now universally obtained; and we may hereafter hope to see revolutions, or changes in governments, produced with the same quiet operation by which any measure, determin- able by reason and discussion, is accomplished. When a nation changes its opinion and habits of thinking, it is no longer to be governed as before ; but it would not only be wrong, but bad policy, to attempt by force what ought to be accomplished by reason. Rebellion consists in forcibly opposing the general will of a nation, whether by a party or by a govern- ment. There ought, therefore, to be in every nation a method of occasionally ascertaining the state of public opinion with re- spect to .government. On this point the old government of France was superior to the present government of England, because, on extraordinary occasions, recourse could be had to what was then called the states-general. But in England there are no such occasional bodies; and as to those who are now called representatives, a great part of them are mere machines of the court, placemen and dependants. I presume, that though all the people of England pay taxes, not a hundredth part of them are electors, and the members of one of the houses of parliament represent nobody but them- selves. There is, therefore, no power but the voluntary will of the people that has a right to act in any matter respecting a general reform; and by the same right that two persons can confer on such a subject, a thousand may. The object, in all such preliminary proceedings, is to find out what the general sense of a nation is, and to be governed by it. If it prefer a bad or defective government to a reform, or choose to pay ten times more taxes than there is any occasion for, it has a right so to do; and so long as the majority do not impose conditions on the minority, different from what they impose upon themselves, though there may be much error, there is no injustice. Neither will the error continue long. Reason and discussion will soon bring things right, however wrong they may begin. By such a process no tumult is to be apprehended. The poor, in all countries, are naturally both peaceable and grateful in all re- forms in which their interest and happiness are included. It is only by neglecting and rejecting them that they become tumultuous. The objects that now press on the public attention are, the 438 RIGHTS OF MAN. French revolution, and the prospect of a general revolution in governments. Of all nations in Europe there is none so much interested in the French revolution as England. Enemies for ages, and that at a vast expense, and without any national ob- ject, the opportunity now presents itself of amicably closing the scene, and joining their efforts to reform the rest of Europe. By doing this they will not only prevent the further effusion of blood and increase of taxes, but be in a condition of getting rid of a considerable part of their present burdens, as has been already stated. Long experience, however, has shown that re- forms of this kind are not those which old governments wish to promote, and therefore, it is to nations, and not to such govern- ments, that these matters present themselves. In the preceding part of this work, I have spoken of an alliance between England, France, and America for purposes that were to be afterwards mentioned. Though I have no direct authority on the part of America, I have good reason to conclude that she is disposed to enter into" a consideration of such a measure, provided that the governments with which she might ally, acted as national governments, and not as courts enveloped in intrigue and mystery. That France as a nation and a national government, would prefer an alliance with England, is a matter of certainty. Nations, like indi- viduals, who have long been enemies, without knowing each other, or knowing why, become better friends when they dis- cover the errors and impositions under which they had acted. Admitting, therefore, the probability of such a connexion, I will state some matters by which such an alliance, together with that of Holland, might render ' service, not only to the parties immediately concerned, but to all parts of Europe. It is, I think, quite certain, that if the fleets of England, France, and Holland were confederated, they could propose, with effect, a limitation to, and a general dismantling of, all the navies in Europe, to a certain proportion to be agreed upon. 1st, That no new ship of war shall be built by any power in Europe, themselves included. 2nd, That all the navies now in existence shall be put back, suppose, to one-tenth of their present force. This will save to France and England, each, at least two millions annually, and their relative force be in the same proportion as it is now. If men will permit themselves to think, as rational beings ought to think, nothing can appear more ridiculous and absurd, ex- RIGHTS OF MAN. 439 elusive of all moral reflections, than to he at the expense of building navies, filling them with men, and then hauling them into the ocean, to try which can sink each other fastest. Peace, which costs nothing, is attended with infinitely more advantage than any victory with all its expense. But this, though it best answers the purpose of nations, does not that of court governments, whose habitual policy is pretence for taxa- tion, places and offices. It is, I think, also certain that the above confederated powers, together with that of the United States of America, can pro- pose, with effect, to Spain, the independence of South America, and the opening those countries of immense extent and wealth to the general commerce of the world, as North America now is. With how much more glory, and advantage to itself, does a nation act, when it exerts its powers to rescue the world from bondage, and to create to itself friends, than when it employs those powers to increase ruin, desolation and misery. Tiie horrid scene that is now acting by the English government in the East Indies, is fit only to be told of Goths and Vandals, who, destitute of principle, robbed and tortured the world which they were incapable of enjoying. The opening of South America would produce an immense field for commerce, and a ready money market for manufac- tures, which the eastern world does not. The East is already a country of manufactures, the importation of which is not only an injury to the manufactures of England, but a drain upon its specie. The balance against England by this trade is regularly upwards of half a million annually sent out in the East India ships in silver; and this is the reason, together with German intrigue and German subsidies, that there is so little silver in England. But any war is harvest to sncb governments, however ruinous it may be to a nation. It serves to keep up deceitful expec- tations, which prevent people from looking into the defects and abuses of government. It is the lo here! and the lo there! that amuses and cheats the multitude. Never did so great an opportunity offer itself to England, and to all Europe, as is produced by the two revolutions of America and France. By the former, freedom has a national champion in the western world ; and by the latter, in Europe. When another nation shall join France, despotism and bad government will scarcely dare to appear. To use a trite ex- 440 BIGHTS OF MAN. pression, the iron is becoming hot all over Europe. The in- sulted German and the enslaved Spaniard, the Russ and the Pole are beginning to think. The present age will hereafter merit to be called the Age of Reason, and the present gene- ration will appear to the future as the Adam of a new world. When all the governments of Europe shall be established on the representative system, nations will become acquainted, and the animosities and prejudices fomented by the intrigues and artifice of courts, will cease. The oppressed soldier will become a freeman; and the tortured sailor, no longer dragged through the streets like a felon, will pursue his mercantile voyage in safety. It would be better that nations should continue the pay of their soldiers during their lives, and give them their dis- charge and restore them to freedom and their friends, and cease recruiting, than retain such multitudes at the same expense, in a condition useless to society and to themselves. As soldiers have hitherto been treated in most countries, they might be said to be without a friend. Shunned by the citizens on an apprehension of their being enemies to liberty, and too often insulted by those who commanded them, their condition was a double oppression. But where genuine principles of liberty pervade a people, everything is restored to order; and the soldier civilly treated, returns the civility. In contemplating revolutions, it is easy to perceive that they may arise from two distinct causes; the one, to avoid or get rid of some great calamity, the other, to obtain some great and posi- tive good; and the two may be distinguished by the names of active and passive revolutions. In those which proceed from theiormer cause, the temper becomes incensed and soured ; and the redress, obtained by danger, is too often sullied by revenge. But in those which proceed from the latter, the heart, rather animated than agitated, enters serenely upon the subject. Reason and discussion, persuasion and conviction, become the weapons in the contest, and it is only when those are attempted to be suppressed that recourse is had to violence. When men unite in agreeing that a thing is good, could it be obtained, such for instance as relief from a burden of taxes and the extinction of corruption, the object is more than half accomplished. What they approve as the end, they will promote in the means. Will any man say in the present excess of taxation, falling BO heavily on the poor, that a remission of five pounds annually of taxes to one hundred and four thousand poor families is not RIGHTS OF MAN. 441 a. good thing? Will he say that a remission of seven pounds annually to one hundred thousand other poor families; of eight pounds annually to another hundred thousand poor families, and of ten pounds annually to fifty thousand poor and widowed families are not good things? And to proceed a step further in this climax, will he say, that to provide against the misfortunes to which all human life is subject, by securing six pounds annually for all poor, distressed, and reduced persons of the age of fifty and until sixty, and of ten pounds annually after sixty, is not a good thing ? Will he say, that an abolition of two millions of poor-ratea to the houskeepers, and of the whole of the house and window- light tax and of the commutation tax is not a good thing 1 Or will he say, that to abolish corruption is a lad thing ? If, therefore, the good to be obtained be worthy of a passive, rational, and costless revolution, it would be bad policy to pre- fer waiting a calamity that should force a violent one. I have no idea, considering the reforms which are now passing and spreading throughout Europe, that England will permit herself to be the last; and where the occasion and the opportunity quietly offer, it is better than to wait for a turbulent necessity. It may be considered as an honor to the animal faculties of man to ob- tain redress by courage and danger; but it is far greater honor to the rational faculties to accomplish the same object by rea- son, accommodation, and general consent.* As reforms, or revolutions, call them which you please, extend themselves among nations, those nations will form connexions and conventions, and when a few are thus confederated, the I know it is the opinion of many of the most enlightened characters in France (there always will be those who see further into events than others), not only among the general mass of citizens, but of many of the principal members of the national assembly, that the monarchical plan will not con- tinue many years in that couutry. They have found out that, as wisdom cannot be hereditary, power ought not and that for a man to merit a million iterling a-year from a nation, he ought to have a mind capable of compre- hending from an atom to a universe, which, if he had, he would be above receiving the pay. But they wished not to appear to lead the nation faster than its own reason and interest dictated. In all the conversations where I have been present upon this subject, the idea always was, that when such a time, from the general opinion of the nation, shall arrive, that the honorable and liberal method would be, to make a handsome present in fee simple to the person, whoever he may be, that shall then be in the monarchical office, and for him to retire to the enjoyment of private life, possessing his share of general rights and privileges, and to be no more accountable to the public for hia time and his conduct than any other citizen. 442 RIGHTS OF MAN. progress will be rapid, till despotism and corrupt government be totally expelled, at least out of two quarters of the world, Europe and America. The Algerine piracy may then be com- manded to cease, for it is only by the malicious policy of old governments against each other that it exists. Throughout this work, various and numerous as the subjects are, which I have taken up and investigated, there is only a single paragraph upon religion, viz. "that every religion is good that teaches man to be good. " I have carefully avoided to enlarge upon the subject, because I am inclined to believe that what is called the present ministry wish to see contentions about religion kept up to prevent the nation turning its attention to subjects of government. It is as if they were to say, " look that way, or any way but this." But as religion is very improperly made a political machine and the reality of it is thereby destroyed, I will conclude this work with stating in what light religion appears to me. If we suppose a large family of children, who, on any particu- lar day, or particular occasion, made it a custom to present to their parents some token of their affection and gratitude, each of them would make a different offering, and most probably in a different manner. Some would pay their congratulations in themes of verse and prose, by some little devices, as their genius dictated, or according to what they thought would please ; and, perhaps, the least of all, not able to do any of those things, would ramble into the garden, or the field, and gather what it thought the prettiest flower it could find, though per- haps, it might be but a simple weed. The parents would be more gratified by such a variety, than if the whole of them had acted on a concerted plan, and each had made exactly the same offering* This would have the cold appearance of contrivance. or the harsh one of control. But of all unwelcome things, noth- ing would more afflict the parent than to know, that the whole of them had afterwards gotten together by the ears, boys and girls, fighting, reviling, and abusing each other about which was the best or the worst present. Why may we not suppose that the great Father of ail is pleased with variety of devotion ; and that the greatest offence we can act, is that by which we seek to torment and rend or each other miserable 1 ? For my own part, I am fully satisfied that what I am now doing, with an endeavor to conciliate mankind, to render kheir condition happv to unite nations that have RIGHTS OF MAN. 443 hitherto been enemies, and to extirpate the horrid practice of war, and break the chains of slavery and oppression, is accept- able in his sight, and being the best service I can perform, I act it cheerfully, I do not believe that any two men, on what are called doc- trinal points, think alike, who think at all. It is only those who have not thought that appear to agree. It is in this case as with what is called the British constitution. It has been taken for granted to be good, and encomiums have supplied the place of proof. But when the nation comes to examine into principles and the abuses it admits, it will be found to have more defects than I have pointed out in this work and the former. As to what are called national religions, we may, with as much propriety, talk of national gods. It is either political craft or the remains of the pagan system, when every nation had its separate particular deity. Among all the writers of the English church clergy, who have treated on the general subject of relig- ion, the present Bishop of Llandatf has not been excelled, and it is with much pleasure that I take this opportunity of express- ing this token of respect. I have now gone through the whole of the subject, at least, as far as it appears to me at present. It has been my intention for the live years I have been in Europe to offer an address to the people of England on the subject of government, if the opportunity presented itself before I returned to America. Mr. Burke has thrown it in my way, and I thank him. On a certain occasion, three years ago, I pressed him to propose a national convention, to be fairly elected, for the pur pose of taking the state of the nation into consideration ; but I found that however strongly the parliamentary current was then setting against the party he acted with, their policy was to kee] > everything within that field of corruption, and trust to accident^. Long experience had shown that parliaments would follow any change of ministers, and on this they rested their hopes ami their expectations Formerly, when divisions arose respecting governments, re- course was had to the sword, and a civil war ensued. That savage custom is exploded by the new system, and reference is had to national conventions. Discusssion and the general will arbitrates the question, and to this, private opinion yields with a good grace, and order is preserved uninterrupted. Some gentlemen have affected to call the principles upon which this work and the former part of the " Rights of Man " 444 RIGHTS OF MAN. are founded, " a new-fangled doctrine." The question is not whether these principles are new or old, but whether they are right or wrong. Suppose the former, I will show their effect by a tigure easily understood. It is now towards the middle of February. Were I to take a turn into the country, the trees would present a leafless, win- tery appearance. As people are apt to pluck twigs as they go along, I perhaps might do the same, and by chance might ob- serve, that a single bud on that twig had begun to swell. I should reason very unnaturally, or rather not reason at all, to suppose this was the only bud in England which had this ap- pearance. Instead of deciding thus, I should instantly conclude that the same appearance was beginning, or about to begin, everywhere ; and though the vegetable sleep will continue lon- ger on some trees and plants than on others, and though some of them may not blossom for two or three years, all will be in leaf in the summer, except those which are rotten. What pace the political summer may keep with the natural, no human foresight can determine. It is, however, not difficult to perceive that the spring is begun. Thus wishing, as I sincerely do, freedom and happiness to all nations, I close the SECOND PART. RIGHTS OF MAN. 445 APPENDIX. As the publication of this work has been delayed beyond the time intended, I think it not improper, all circumstances con- sidered, to state the causes that have occasioned that delay. The reader will probably observe, that some parts in the plan contained in this work for reducing the taxes, and certain parts in Mr. Pitt's speech at the opening of the present session, Tuesday, January 31, are so much alike, as to induce a belief, that either the author had taken the hint from Mr. Pitt, or Mr. Pitt from the author. I will first point out the parts that are similar, and then state such circumstances as I am acquainted with, leaving the reader to make his own conclusion. Considering it as almost an unprecedented case, that taxes should be proposed to be taken off, it is equally extraordinary that such a measure should occur to two persons at the same time; and still more so (considering the vast variety and multi- plicity of taxes), that they should hit on the same specific taxes. Mr. Pitt has mentioned, in his speech, the tax on carts and wag- gons; that on female servants; the lowering the tax on candles and the taking off the tax of three shillings on houses having under seven windows. Every one of those specific taxes are a part of the plan con- tained in this work, and proposed also to be taken off. Mr. Pitt's plan, it is true, goes no further than to a reduction of three hundred and twenty thousand pounds; and the reduction proposed in this work, to nearly six millions. I have made my calculations on only sixteen millions and a half of revenue, still asserting that it was very nearly, if not quite, seventeen millions. Mr. Pitt states it at 16,690,000. I know enough of the matter to say, that he has not over-stated it. Having thus given the particulars, which correspond in this work and and his speech, I will state a chain of circumstances that may lead to some explanation. The first hint for lessening the taxes, and that as a conse- quence flowing from the French revolution, is to be found in the Address and Declaration of the gentlemen who met at the Thatched-House tavern, August 20, 1791. Among many other 446 RIGHTS OF MAN. particulars stated in that address, is the following, put as an interrogation to the government opposers of the French revolu- tion. " Are they sorry that the pretence for new oppressive taxes, and the occasion for continuing many old laxes will be at an end?" It is well known, that the persons who chiefly frequent the Thatcbed-House tavern, are men of court connexions, and so much did they take this address and declaration respecting the French revolution, and the reduction of taxes, in disgust, that the landlord was under the necessity of informing the gentle- men who composed the meeting of the 20th of August, and who proposed holding another meeting, that he could not receive them.* What was only hinted in the address and declaration respect- ing taxes and principles of government, will be found reduced to a regular system in this work. But as Mr. Pitt's speech contains some of the same things respecting taxes, I now come to give the circumstances before alluded to. The case is this: This work was intended to be published just before the meeting of parliament, and for that purpose a considerable part of the copy was put into the printer's hands in September, and all the remaining copy, as far as page 348, which contains the part to which Mr. Pitt's speech is similar, was given to him full six weeks before the meeting of parlia- ment, and he was informed of the time at which it was to appear. He had composed nearly the whole about a fortnight before the time of parliament's meeting, and had printed as far as page 301, and had given me a proof of the next sheet, up to page 320. It was then in sufficient forwardness to be out at the time proposed, as two other sheets were ready for striking *The gentleman who signed the address and declaration as chairman of the meeting, Mr. Home Tooke, being generally supposed to be the person who drew it up, and having spoken much in commendation of it, has been jocularly accused of praising his own work. To free him from this embar- rassment, and to save him the repeated trouble of mentioning the author, as he has not failed to do, I make no Hesitation in saying, that as the opportunity of benefiting by the French revolution easily occurred to me, I drew up the publication in question, and showed it to him and some other gentlemen ; who, fully approving it, held a meeting for the purpose of making it public, and subscribed to the amount of fifty guineas to defray the expense of adver- tising. I believe there are at this time in England a greater number of men acting on disinterested principles, and determined to look into the nature and practices of government themselves, and not blandly trust, as has hither- to been the case, either to government generally, or to parliaments, or to parliamentary opposition, than at any former period. Had this been dore a century ago, corruption and taxation had not arrived to the height they are now at. RIGHTS OF MAN. 447 off. I had before told him, that if he thought he should be straitened for time, I could get part of the work done at an- other press, which he desired me not to do. In this manner the work stood on the Tuesday fortnight preceding the meet- ing of parliament, when all at once, without any previous inti- mation, though I had been with him the evening before, he sent me by one of his workmen, all the remaining copy, from page 301, declining to go on with the work on any consideration. To account for this extraordinary conduct I was totally at a loss, as he stopped at the part where the arguments on systems and principles of government closed, and where the plan for the reduction of taxes, the education of children, and the sup- port of the poor and the aged begins ; and still more especially, as he had, at the time of his beginning to print, and before he had seen the whole copy, offered a thousand pounds for the copyright, together with the future copyright of the former part of the " Rights of Man." I told the person who brought me this offer that I should not accept it, and wished it not to be renewed, giving him as my reason, that though I believed the printer to be an honest man, I would never put it in the power of any printer or publisher to suppress or alter a work of mine, by making him master of the copy, or give to him the right of selling it to any minister, or to any other person, or to treat as a mere matter of traffic that which I intended should operate as a principle. His refusal to complete the work (which he could not pur- chase) obliged me to seek for another printer, and this of con- sequence would throw the publication back till after the meeting of parliament, otherwise it would have appeared that Mr. Pitt had only taken up a part of the plan which I had more fully stated. Whether that gentleman, or any other, had seen the work or any part of it, is more than I have authority to say. But the manner in which the work was returned, and the particular time at which this was done, and that after the offers he had made, are suspicious circumstances. I know what the opinion of booksellers and publishers is upon such a case, but as to my own opinion, I choose to make no declaration. There are many ways by which proof sheets may be procured by other persons before a work publicly appears; to which I shall add a certain circumstance, which is, A nr material bookseller, in Piccadilly, who has been em- 148 KJGHTS OF MAN. ployed, as common report says, by a clerk of one of the boards closely connected with the ministry (the board of trade and plantations, of which Hawkesbury is president) to publish what he calls my Life (I wish his own life and those of the cabinet were as good), used to have his books printed at the same printing-office that I employed; but when the former parts of the " Rights of Man " same out, he took his work away in dudgeon; and about a week or ten days before the printer returned my copy, he came to make him an offer of his work again, which was accepted. This would consequently give him admission into the printing-office where the sheets of this work were then lying; and as booksellers and printers are free with each other, he would have the opportunity of seeing what was going on. Be the case, however, as it may, Mr. Pitt's plan, little and diminutive as it is, would have made a very awkward appearance, had this work appeared at the time the printer had engaged to finish it. I have now stated the particulars which occasioned the delay, from the proposal to purchase, to the refusal to print. If all the gentlemen are innocent, it is very unfortunate for them that such a variety of suspicious circumstances should, without any design, arrange themselves together. Having now finished this part, I will conclude with stating another circumstance. About a fortnight or three weeks before the meeting of par- liament, a small addition, amounting to about twelve shillings and sixpence a-year, was made to the pay of the soldiers, or rather their pay was docked so much less. Some gentlemen who knew in part that this work would contain a plan of reforms respecting the oppressed condition of soldiers, wished me to add a note to the work, signifying that the part upon that subject had been in the printer's hands some weeks before that addition of pay was proposed. I declined doing this, lest it should be interpreted into an air of vanity, or an endeavor to excite suspicion (for which perhaps there might be no grounds) that some of the government gentlemen had, by some means or other, made out what this work would contain; and had not the printing been interrupted so as to occasion a delay beyond the time fixed for publication, nothing contained in this appendix would have appeared. THOMAS PAINE. 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