^-;>>>>>> 
 
 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
 
 <J4 PERIOD THIRD. 
 
 various descriptions. Here he remained till dinner-time; and 
 unless he visited Brissot's family, or some particular friend in 
 the evening, which was his frequent custom, he joined again 
 the society of his favorites arid fellow-boarders, with whom his 
 conversation was often witty and cheerful, always acute and 
 improving, but never frivolous. 
 
 " Incorrupt, straightforward, and sincere, he pursued his polit- 
 ical course in France, as everywhere else, let the government 
 -or clamor or faction of the day be what it might, with firmness, 
 with clearness, and without a ' shadow of turning.' 
 
 " In all Mr. Paine's inquiries and conversations he evinced 
 the strongest attachment to the investigation of truth, and was 
 always for going to the fountain-head for information. He 
 of Leu lamented we had no good history of America, and that 
 the letters written by Columbus, the early navigators, and 
 others to the Spanish court, were inaccessible, and that many 
 valuable documents, collected by Philip II., and deposited with 
 the national archives at Simanca, had not yet been promulga- 
 ted. He used to speak highly of the sentimental parts of 
 < Raynal's History.' " 
 
 Of course Mr. Paine did not escape the imputation of being 
 "immoral." The cry of "immorality" and " licentiousness " 
 has been raised against everyone who has ever proposed a 
 social system different from the prevailing one, from the time 
 of him who preferred harlotry to phariseeism, to that of Charles 
 Fourier. 
 
 Luther no more escaped the accusation of being a sensualist, 
 than did Thomas Paine; and had not Milton written "Paradise 
 Lost," and professed the " orthodox " religion, his " Doctrine 
 .and Discipline of Divorce" would have placed him on the same 
 historical page with those reformers Dr. T. L. Nichols, Dr. E. 
 Lazarus, and Stephen Pearl Andrews.* 
 
 * The first of these gentlemen favored mankind with "Esoteric Anthro- 
 pology," and "Marriage: its History," &c. The second is the author of 
 " Love vs. Marriage ; " and the third took the free love side of the question 
 in the famous discussion on Marriage and Divorce, between himself and the 
 Hon. Horace Greeley, and is author of " The Science of Society," and several 
 other progressive works, and of an admirable system of instruction in the 
 French language. 
 
 It is difficult to see how a person of Mr. Greeley's understanding could 
 have taken the side he did in the controversy just alluded to, and also in 
 tiie renewal of that controversy between himself and the Hon. Robert Dale 
 Owen. 
 
 That monogamy, like pologamy, has nerved a useful purpose, everyone
 
 PERIOD THIRD. 65 
 
 Paine did not, as we have seen, live with bis wife; but if he 
 refrained from sexual intercourse, it must have been because 
 he was afraid of what the world might say (a supposition too 
 absurd, in his case, to bo entertained for a moment), or because 
 he had little taste for amorous pleasures; or, lastly, because he 
 wanted to show the world that liberalism was such a matter of 
 moon-shine, that it was not even inimical to what a religious 
 system which upholds crucifixion and self-denial, palms off on 
 its dupes for " virtue ; " that liberalism has no virtue of its 
 own, and therefore has to borrow and adopt that the very basis 
 of which is supernaturalistic self-enslavement; that free-think- 
 ing is a mere speculative, impracticable, Abstract sort of free- 
 dom, which it would not be " virtuous " to accompany by free 
 acting; that liberty, even in the most important particular (as 
 all physiologists know), is but a mere figment of the imagina- 
 tion, over which to debate or hold free discussions; or, at most, 
 to write songs, plays, and novels about. 
 
 But what is most worthy of remark in this connection is, 
 that had the discoverer of the steam-engine, or of the electrical 
 telegraph been a very Rochester, or Csesar Borgia, the circum- 
 stance would not have been mentioned as an objection to a 
 steam-boat passage, or to a telegraphic despatch ; and only when 
 sociology is rescued from the wild regions of the speculative 
 
 capable of tracing progress, can of course see ; but how such an one can fail 
 to perceive that these institutions have about equally become worn out, and 
 morbific to the social organism, both in Western Europe and the United 
 States, is to me somewhat mysterious. Are not those crowning curses, (ex- 
 cepting, of course, demagogism) prostitution and pauperism, alarmingly on 
 the increase ? And does not the former flourish most, where the cords of 
 matrimony are drawn the tightest ? 
 
 But the fact that Mr. Greeley magnanimously opened the columns of 
 " The Tribune " to the other side of the question, shows that he had full 
 confidence in the arguments on his side, and this ought to dispel all doubts 
 as to his sincerity, and the uprightness of his intention. It is only hypo- 
 crites or downright fools, who wish to have truth, with respect to religious 
 or social questions, suppressed. 
 
 ^ Still, I respectfully ask you, Mr. Editor of " The New York Tribune," 
 did you during your visit to Mormondom, observe any part of Salt Lake 
 City, in which humanity touched a lower depth than that to which it sinks 
 in our Five Points, and in the vicinity of the junction of Water and Roose- 
 velt-streets ? And do you really think, that even in the harem of Brigham 
 Young, female degradation is greater than in the New York ualar.es of har- 
 lotry? En passant, one of these has just been fitted up, the furniture alone 
 in which cost thirty thousand dollars ! Yet New York is almost the only 
 State in the Union, wherein exists what Mr Greeley considers orthodox 
 marriage marriage, from the bonds of which there is no escape, except 
 through the door of artuai adultery, natural death, or murder ; often by 
 poison, but generally through the inflrction of menial agony I 
 5
 
 66 PERIOD THIRD. 
 
 and becomes an art, will it have a rule of its own ; a rule which 
 will free all the natural passions from the shackles of ignorance 
 of how to beneficially gratify them. 
 
 For a reason which will presently appear, I shall now call 
 the readers attention to the letter of Joel Barlow, written in 
 answer to one from that vilest of slanderers and renegados, 
 James Cheetham. This letter was written to obtain informa- 
 tion; nay, not information, but what might be tortured into 
 appearing such, with a view to sending forth to a prejudiced 
 world, that tissue of falsehoods which Cheetha,rj had the auda- 
 city to palm off on it for the " Life of Thomas Paine." 
 
 To JAMES CHEETHAM. 
 
 SIR, I have received your letter calling for information 
 relative to the life of Thomas Paine. It appears to me that 
 this is not the moment to publish the life of that man in this 
 country. His own writings are his best life, and these are not 
 read at present. 
 
 The greatest part of the readers in the United States will 
 not be persuaded as long as their present feelings last, to con- 
 sider him in any other light than as a drunkard and a deist. 
 The writer of his life who should dwell on these topics, to the 
 exclusion of the great and estimable traits of his real character, 
 might, indeed, please the rabble of the age who do not know 
 him ; the book might sell ; but it would only tend to render 
 the truth more obscure, for the future biographer, than it was 
 before. 
 
 But if the present writer should give us Thomas Paine com- 
 plete in all his character as one of the most benevolent and dis- 
 interested of mankind, endowed with the clearest perception, 
 an uncommon share of original genius, and the greatest breadth 
 of thought; if this piece of biography should analyze his literary 
 labors, and rank him as he ought to be ranked amongst the 
 brightest and most undeviating luminaries of the age in which 
 he has lived yet with a m\ud assailable by flattery, and receiv- 
 ing through that weak side a tincture of vanity which he was 
 too proud to conceal; with a mind, though strong enough to 
 bear him up, and to rise elastic under the heaviest load of op- 
 pression, yt unable to endure the contempt of his former 
 friends and fellow-laborers, the rulers of the country that had 
 received his first and greatest services a mind incapable of 
 down vith aerone compassion, as it ought, on the rude
 
 PERIOD THIRD. , 67 
 
 scoffs of their imitators, a new generation that knows him not ; 
 a mind that shrinks from their society, and unhappily seeks 
 refuge in low company, or looks for consolation in the sordid, 
 solitary bottle, until it sinks at last so far below its native ele- 
 vation as to lose all respect for itself, and to forfeit that of his 
 best friends, disposing these friends almost to join with his 
 enemies, and wish, though from different motives, that he would 
 haste to hide himself in the grave if you are disposed and 
 prepared to write his life, thus entire, to fill up the picture to 
 which these hasty strokes of outline give but a rude sketch with 
 great vacuities, your book may be a useful one for another age, 
 but it will not be relished, nor scarcely tolerated in this. 
 
 The biographer of Thomas Paine should not forget his 
 mathematical acquirements, and his mechanical genius. His 
 invention of the iron bridge, which led him to Europe in the 
 year 1787, has procured him a great reputation in that branch 
 of science, in France and England, in both which countries his 
 bridge has been adopted in many instances, and is now much in 
 use. 
 
 You ask whether he took an oath of allegiance to France. 
 Doubtless the qualification to be a member of the convention 
 required an oath of fidelity to that country, but involved in it 
 no abjuration of his fidelity to this. He was made a French 
 citizen by the same decree with Washington, Hamilton, Priest- 
 ley, and Sir James Mackintosh. 
 
 What Mr. M has told you relative to the circum- 
 stances of his arrestation by order of Robespierre, is erroneous, 
 at least in one point. Paine did not lodge at the house where 
 he was arrested, but had been dining there with some Ameri- 
 cans of whom Mr. M may have been one. I never 
 
 heard before, that Paine was intoxicated that night. Indeed 
 the officers brought him directly to my house, which was two 
 miles from his lodgings, and about as much from the place 
 where he had been dining. He was not intoxicated when he 
 came to me. Their object was to get me to go and assist them 
 to examine Paine's paper. It employed us the rest of that 
 night, and the whole of the next day at Paine's lodgings ; and 
 he was not committed to prison till the next evening. 
 
 You ask what company he kept he always frequented the 
 best, both in England and France, till he became the object of 
 calumny in certain American papers (echoes of the English 
 court papers), for his adherence to what he thought the cause
 
 68 PERIOD THIRD. 
 
 of liberty in France, till he conceived himself neglected and 
 despised by his former friends in the United States. From that 
 moment he gave himself very much to drink, and, consequently, 
 to companions less worthy of his better days. 
 
 It is said he was always a peevish person this is possible. 
 So was Lawrence Sterne, so was Torquato Tasso, so was J. J. 
 Rousseau;* but Thomas Paine, as a visiting acquaintance and 
 as a literary friend, the only points of view in which I knew 
 him, was one of the most instructive men I ever have known. 
 He had a surprising memory and brilliant fancy ; his mind was 
 a storehouse of facts and useful observations; he was full of 
 lively anecdote, and ingenious original, pertinent remark upon 
 almost every subject. 
 
 He was always charitable to the poor beyond his means, a 
 sure protector and friend to all Americans in distress that he 
 found in foreign countries. And he had frequent occasions to 
 exert his influence in protecting them during the revolution in 
 France. His writings will answer for his patriotism, and his 
 entire devotion to what he conceived to be the best interest and 
 happiness of mankind. 
 
 This, sir, is all I have to remark on the subject you mention. 
 Now I have only one request to make, and that would doubt- 
 less seem impertinent, were you not the editor of a newspaper ; 
 it is, that you will not publish my letter, nor permit a copy of 
 it to be taken. 
 
 I am, sir, etc., 
 
 JOEL BARLOW. 
 KALOBAMA, Augutt It, 1809. 
 
 " Mr. Barlow," says Mr. Yale, " was in France at the time 
 of Mr. Paine's death, and knew not his habits. Cheetham 
 wrote to him, informed him of his object, mentioned that Paine 
 was drunken and low in his company towards the latter years 
 of his life, and says he was informed that he was drimk when 
 taken to prison in France. Now Mr. Barlow does not contra- 
 dict Cheetham ; he could not, as Cheetham had the better op- 
 portunity of knowing facts, and Mr. Barlow does not suspect 
 him of falsehood; as who would? He therefore presumes Mr. 
 
 * The peevishness of the famous Dr. Samuel Johnson is notorious ; and 
 David, the "man after God's own heart," was so inveterately peevish as to 
 tiruj, whilst he forced the sweet tones of his harp to accompany the spiteful 
 cauticle, "All men ore liars."
 
 PERIOD THIRD. 69 
 
 Cheetham correct in the statement, and goes on, not to excuse 
 Mr. Paine, but to present his acknowledged good qualities as a 
 set-off. Then Cheetham publishes this letter, and presents, to 
 a cursory reader, Mr. Joel Barlow as acknowledging Mr. 
 Paine's intemperance, and other infirmities, which had no other 
 foundation than Cheetham's declaration, given to deceive Bar- 
 low; who afterwards, as we have seen, gives Barlow's letter to 
 deceive the public." 
 
 The late Mr. D. Burger, a respectable watch and clock maker 
 in the City of New York, and who, when a boy, was clerk in 
 the store which furnished Mr. Paine's groceries, personally as- 
 sured the writer of this, that all the liquor which Mr. Paine 
 bought, both for himself and his friends, at a time, too, when 
 drinking was fashionable, was one quart a week. 
 
 Before returning to the thread of this narrative, I will call 
 the attention of the reader to the following letter, from Mr. 
 Jefferson, written to Mr. Paine, in answer to one which the 
 la tter wrote to him from Paris : 
 
 You express a wish in your letter to return to America by 
 a national ship ; Mr. Dawson who brings over the treaty, and 
 who will present you with this letter, is charged with orders to 
 the captain of the Maryland to receive and accommodate you 
 back, if you can be ready to depart at such a short warning. 
 You will in general find us returned to sentiments worthy of 
 former times; in these it will be your glory to have steadily 
 labored, and with as much effect as any man living. That you 
 may live long to continue your useful labors, and reap the re- 
 ward in the thankfulness of nations, is my sincere prayer. 
 Accept the assurances of my high esteem and affectionate at- 
 tachment. 
 
 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 
 
 Mr. Jefferson had, during the election campaign which seated 
 him in the presidential chair, been pronounced an infidel ; and, 
 s.iys Randall, in his " Life of Jefferson:" "It was asserted in 
 the Federal newspapers generally, and preached from a multi- 
 tude of pulpits, that one of the first acts of the President, after 
 entering office, was to send a national vessel to invite and bring 
 ' Tom Paine ' to America. " 
 
 " Paine was an infidel," continues Randall. "He had written 
 ooliticallv against Washington. He was accused of inebriety.
 
 70 PERIOD THIRD. 
 
 and a want of chastity [of the truth of both which accusations 
 Randall strongly indicates his unbelief.] But he was the author 
 of "Common Sense" and the "Crisis." 
 
 On the occasion of Paine's writing to Jefferson that he was 
 coming to visit him at Monticello, Randall again remarks : 
 " Mrs. Randolph, and we think Mrs. Epps, both daughters of 
 the Church of England, were not careful to conceal that they 
 would have much preferred to have Mr. Paine stay away. Mr. 
 Jefferson turned to the speaker with his gentlest smile, and re- 
 marked in substance: "Mr. Paine is not, I believe, a favorite 
 among the ladies but he is too well entitled to the hospitality 
 of every American not to cheerfully receive mine." Paine 
 came, and remained a day or two, .... and left Mr. Jefferson's 
 mansion, the subject of lighter prejudices, than when he entered 
 it." 
 
 Mr. Paine was to have accompanied Mr. Munroe back to the 
 United States, but was unable to complete his arrangements in 
 time. This was fortunate; for the vessel in which the Ameri- 
 can minister embarked was, on her passage, boarded by a 
 British frigate, and thoroughly searched for the author of "The 
 Rights of Man." Paine then went to Havre; but finding that 
 several British frigates were cruising about the port, he returned 
 to Paris. 
 
 Seeing himself thus baulked, he wrote to Mr. Jefferson, as 
 before stated, for assistance, which produced the letter above 
 copied. He did not, however, from some cause or other, take 
 passage in the Maryland. He next agreed to sail with Com- 
 modore Barney, but was accidentally detained beyond the 
 time, and the vessel in which he was to have embarked was 
 lost at sea. 
 
 In addition to these remarkable preservations, Paine, in 1805, 
 was shot at through the window of his own house, at New 
 Rochelle, and escaped unharmed; also the privateer in which, 
 but for the interference of his father (as we have seen), he 
 would, when a youth, have sailed, lost 174 out of her crew of 
 200 men, in a single battle; and when he was in prison, as has 
 already been related, he missed going to the guillotine, in con- 
 sequence of the jailor, whose business it was .to put the death- 
 mark on the cell-doors of the doomed, not noticing that the 
 door of the cell which contained the author of the " Age of 
 Reason " was open flat against the wail, so that the inside was 
 marked for the information of Paine, instead of the outside for
 
 PERIOD THIRD. 71 
 
 the instruction of the executioner.* Had a missionary of: 
 superstition been thus preserved, how the hand of " God " 
 would have been seen in the matter. 
 
 * "But in this set of Tumbrils [the dung-carts in which the victims of the 
 Reign of Terror were dragged to execution] there are two other things no- 
 table ; one notable person ; and one want of a notable person. The notable 
 person is Lieutenant-General Loiserolles, a nobleman by birth, and by nature ; 
 faying down his life here for his son. In the prison of Saint- Lazare, the 
 night before last, hurrying to the gate to hear the death-list read, he caught 
 the name of his son. The son was asleep at the moment. "I am Loise- 
 rolles," cried the old man ; at Tinville's bar, an error in the Christian name 
 is little; small objection was made. The want of the notable person, again, 
 is that of Deputy Paine ! Paine has sat in the Luxembourg since January ; 
 and seemed forgotten; but Fouquierhad pricked him at last. The turnkey, 
 list in hand, is marking with chalk the outer doors of to-morrow's Fournee. 
 Paine's outer door happened to be open, turned back on the wall ; the turn- 
 key marked it on the side next him, and hurried on ; another turnkey came, 
 and shut it ; no chalk-mark now visible, the Fournee went without Paine. 
 Paine's life lay not there." Carlyle. 
 
 Fouquier Tinville, above alluded to, was the head juryman of the Revo- 
 lutionary Tribunal. He was far more blood-thirsty than was Robespierre 
 himself. Was not the proof of his atrocities indubitable, it would be impos- 
 sible to believe that such horrors ever took place. Yet such a "man of 
 principle," and so incorruptible was this horrible wretch, that, says Allison, 
 ' ' women, the pleasures of the table, or of the theatre, were alike indifferent 
 to him He might during the period of his power, have amassed an im- 
 mense fortune ; he remained to the last poor, and his wife is said to have died 
 of famine. His lodgidgs were destitute of every comfort ; their whole furni- 
 ture, after his death, did not sell for twenty pounds. No seduction could 
 influence him." I will add, so much for principle. FOUQUIER TINVILLB 
 
 WAS, PAST ALL QUESTION, VIRTUOUS, HONEST, SINCERE, CONSCIENTIOUS. 
 
 Had this miserable victim of the cruelest and hardest to be got rid of delusion 
 that mankind were ever infatuated with, been as destitute of all " virtuous" 
 qualities as was Alexander VI., he could, at worst, have been bought off, 
 and would probably not have perpetrated a tithe of the evil he did. He at 
 last, like Robespierre, " sealed his testimony " on the scaifold. 
 
 The French, like ourselves, had been taught to venerate a religious sys- 
 tem which defies that crowning atrocity, crucifixion to satisfy justice ! and 
 which consequently canonizes daily and hourly self-crucifixion. In all can- 
 dor I ask, was not pracitical faith in the guillotine the natural result? and 
 are not war, duelling, torturing, hanging, imprisioning ; together with blam- 
 ing and despising our unfortunate fellow-creatures as vicious, as less holy 
 than our stupid selves, the practical logic of "virtue" and "principle?" 
 And were not Marat, Joseph Lebon, St. Just, Robespierre, Tin vale, and the 
 rest of that ilk, the tools the agents the faithful servants, and finally the 
 victims of the supernaturalistically educated and virtuously inclined majority ! 
 The arch tyrant who was at the bottom of all this, I shall take in hand 
 presently, and show how to conquer ; ay, annihilate him. 
 
 If the grand truth was taught us from our cradles, that we can no more 
 expect well doing without the requisite materialistic conditions, than we can 
 expect a watch to keep time except on condition that every wheel and spring 
 shall be in artistic harmony with each other, where would be malice ! And 
 if we practiced in accordance with this grand truth, where would be either 
 wholesale or retail murder? where would be wrong of any description? 
 " I don't know about that," methinks I hear the mildest of the old fogiea
 
 72 PERIOD THIRD. 
 
 He at last sailed from Havre, on the 1st of September, 1802, 
 and arrived in Baltimore on the 30th of October foil lowing. 
 
 From Baltimore he went to Washington, where he was kindly 
 received by the President, Thomas Jefferson. This gentleman 
 thought so highly of him, that a few days before his arrival, he 
 remarked to a friend, " If there be an office in my gift, suit- 
 able for him to fill, I will give it to him; I will never abandon 
 old friends to make room for new ones." Jefferson was one of 
 the few among Paine's illustrious friends, who never joined the 
 priest-ridden multitude against him. He corresponded with 
 him up to the time of his death. 
 
 Mr. Paine was now between sixty and seventy years of age, 
 yet vigorous in body, and with a mind not at all impaired. 
 
 Of the manner in which he was generally received on his 
 return to the United States, we can form a very fair judgment 
 from the following letter to his friend, Clio Bickman : 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND, Mr. Monroe, who is appointed minister 
 extraordinary to France, takes charge of this, to be delivered 
 to Mr. Este, banker in Paris, to be forwarded to you. 
 
 I arrived at Baltimore 30th October, and you can have no 
 idea of the agitation which my arrival occasioned. From New 
 Hampshire to Georgia (an extent of 1500 miles), every news- 
 paper was filled with applause or abuse. 
 
 My property in this country has been taken care of by my 
 friends, and is now worth six thousand pounds sterling; which 
 put in the funds will bring me 400 sterling a year. 
 
 Remember me in friendship and affection to your wife and 
 family, and in the circle of our friends. 
 
 Yours in friendship, 
 
 THOMAS PAINE. 
 
 With respect to the course which Mr. Paine intended for 
 the future to pursue, he says: 
 
 exclaim. Well, my dear fellow biped, I'll tell you one thing you do most 
 assuredly feel to be true; and you know it to be true, as sure as you are ca- 
 pable of the slightest connection of ideas. It is this. The present method 
 of reforming the world, has, since the most barbarous age, never done aught 
 but make it a great deal worse. Are people more honest or less gallant now 
 than they ever were ? And if civilized nations are not quite so cruel, especi- 
 ally in war time, as are savages, is not that clearly traceable to science and 
 art? Show me where man is least cruel, and I will show you where "super- 
 naturalism," the synonym for ignorance, and the very basis of "virtue." 
 principle, and moral ism, has lost the most ground, and where science and art 
 nave gained the moat.
 
 PERIOD THIRD. 73 
 
 " I have no occasion to ask, nor do I intend to accept, any 
 place or office in the government. 
 
 " There is none it could give me that would in any way be 
 equal to the profits I could make as an author (for I have an 
 established fame in the literary world), could I reconcile it to 
 my principles to make money by my politics or my religion ; I 
 must be in everything as I have ever been, a disinterested 
 volunteer; my proper sphere of action is on the common floor 
 of citizenship, and to honest men I give my hand and my heart 
 freely. 
 
 " I have some manuscript works to publish of which I shall 
 give proper notice, and some mechanical affairs to bring for- 
 ward, that will employ all my leisure time." 
 
 From Washington, Mr. Paine went to New York, and put 
 up at the City Hotel, where the mayor and De Witt Clinton 
 called on him; and, notwithstanding the influence of the emis- 
 saries of superstition and their dupes, he was honored with a 
 public dinner by a most respectable and numerous party ; and 
 it is worthy of remark that Cheetham, then editor of a demo- 
 cratic daily paper, was particularly officious in helping to make 
 the arrangements. 
 
 In respect to Cheetham's fictions about the slovenliness of Mr. 
 Paine, if there had been any truth in his assertions, would not 
 his most intimate friends, such as De Witt Clinton, the mayor 
 of New York, and Mr. Jarvis, have noticed it? The truth 
 about this is, that Mr. Paine, though always clean, was as care- 
 less in his dress as were Napoleon and Frederic the Great; and 
 almost as lavish of his snuff. We have the positive and very 
 respectable testimony of Mr. Jhn Fellows, that Mr. Paiiie's 
 slovenliness went no further than this. 
 
 But the sun of liberty had now so evidently passed meri- 
 dian in America that most of the leading politicians of the day 
 considered it for their interests to turn their backs on Mr. 
 Paine; this threw the great martyr to the cause of freedom 
 into the society of a class of people with better hearts, and 
 except in respect of political gambling and fraud, with sounder 
 heads. 
 
 Among this class was a respectable tradesman, a blacksmith 
 and veterinary surgeon, of the name of Carver. When a boy 
 he had known Paine, who also recollected him by some little 
 services which Carver reminded him that he had performed for 
 him at Lewes, in Sussex, England; such, for instance, as
 
 74 PERIOD THIRD. 
 
 saddling his horse for him. Mr. Carver was comfortably situ- 
 ated, and was honest and independent enough to openly avow 
 the religious opinions of the author of the " Age of Reason." 
 Paine boarded at his house some time before going to live at 
 New Rochelle. 
 
 In a fit of anger, however, the unsuspicious Mr. Carver after- 
 wards became the tool of Cheetham; " a circumstance which he 
 (Carver) sorely regretted to the day of his death." 
 
 I once met him at a celebration of Paine's birth-day, and 
 shall never forget the anxiety which the venerable old gentle- 
 man exhibited to do away with the wrong impression which 
 the great libeller of Mr. Paine had betrayed him into making 
 on the public mind. The circumstances were, in short, these : 
 Carver had presented a bill for board to Mr. Paine, which the 
 latter (who, as truly generous people usually are, was very 
 economical) considered exhorbitant, and, therefore, hastily pro- 
 posed paying off-hand, and having nothing more to do with 
 Carver. Carver would probably not have presented any bill at 
 all, had he not been, just then, in rather straitened circum- 
 stances, and at the same time aware that Mr. Paine was in 
 affluence. He got into a passion at the manner in which Mr. 
 Paine treated his claim, wrote him some angry letters, and un- 
 fortunately kept copies of them; which Cheetham, without 
 letting him know what use he intended to make of them, man- 
 aged to get hold of and publish after Mr. Paine's death, though 
 the difficulty which elicited them had been immediately and 
 amicably adjusted between the parties concerned. 
 
 This piece of chicanery, however, cost Cheetham a conviction 
 for libel on Madame Bonneville, who had been, though only by 
 inuendo, mentioned in the letters aforesaid, in a manner which 
 society, in its present state of wisdom, pleases to consider scan- 
 dalous. 
 
 When Mr. Paine went to New Rochelle, he boarded with 
 Mr. Purdy, who lived on his farm. He offered Madame Bon- 
 neville and her two sons his small farm at Bordentown. But 
 that rural retreat was so different from Paris, that she chose to 
 remain in New York, where she taught French occasionally, 
 but was almost wholly supported by Mr. Paine. 
 
 Madame Bonneville, though generally amiable, sometimes 
 contracted debts which Mr. Paine conceived unnecessary. She 
 furthermore, says Mr. Vale, " did not scruple to send bills in to 
 him which he had not sanctioned." To check which propensity,
 
 PERIOD THIRD. 75 
 
 Mr. Paine once allowed himself to be sued by a Mr. Wilburn 
 for a debt of thirty -five dollars for her board; but after non- 
 suiting the plaintiff, he paid the debt. As a proof that there 
 was never any serious quarrel between Mr. Paine and Madame 
 Bonneville, that lady, her husband and family were, as we shall 
 presently see, Mr. Paine's principal legatees. 
 
 To oblige his friends, Mr. Paine after a while left his farm 
 at New Rochelle and went back to Carver's to board; where he 
 remained till he took up his residende at the house of Mr. 
 Jarvis, the celebrated painter, who relates the following anec- 
 dote of his guest : 
 
 "One afternoon a very old lady, dressed in a large scarlet 
 cloak, knocked at the door and inquired for Thomas Paine. 
 Mr. Jarvis told her he was asleep. ' I am very sorry,' she said, 
 'for that, for I want to see him very particularly.' Thinking 
 it a pity to make an old woman call twice, Mr. Jarvis took her 
 into Paine's bed-room and waked him. He rose upon one elbow, 
 and then, with an expression of eye that staggered the old 
 woman back a step or two, he asked ' What do you want ?' 
 'Is your name Paine?' 'Yes.' 'Well then, I come from 
 Almighty God to tell you, that if you do not repent of your 
 sins and believe in our blessed Saviour Jesus Christ, you will 
 
 be damned, and ' ' Poh, poh, it is not true. You were 
 
 not sent with such an impertinent message. Jarvis, make her 
 go away. Pshaw, he would not send such a foolish old woman 
 as you about with his messages. Go away. Go back. Shut 
 the door. The old lady raised both her hands, kept them so, 
 and without saying another word, walked away in mute aston- 
 ishment." 
 
 In 1807, Mr. Paine, now in the seventieth year of his age, 
 removed to the house of Mr. Hitt, a baker, in Broom e-street. 
 Whilst here he published " An Examination of the Passages in 
 the New Testament, quoted from the Old, and called Prophecies 
 of the Coming of Jesus Christ." 
 
 Mr. Paine lived in Partition-street successively ; and after- 
 wards in Greenwich-street; but becoming too feeble to be thus 
 moving about among boarding-houses, Madame Bonneville, in 
 May, 1809, hired for his accommodation a small house in Col- 
 umbia-street, where she attended on him till his death. 
 
 Mr. Paine had moved from house to house, as we have seen, 
 not because he had not ample resources, but, partly to oblige his 
 friends, and partly for the variety it afforded, partly because it
 
 76 PERIOD THIRD. 
 
 suited his plain and simple habits, and partly because, like most 
 old people, he had become a little too frugal. 
 
 Perceiving his end approaching, Mr. Paine apjlied to Willit 
 Hicks, an influential preacher of the Society of Friends, for 
 permission to be buried in their cemetery. Mr. Hicks laid the 
 proposition before the members of his meeting, who, to their 
 eternal disgrace, returned a negative answer. 
 
 Of course the author of " Age of Reason," was now beset by 
 the emissaries of superstition. The clergy themselves not being 
 aware of the momentous, eternal, and impregnable materialistic 
 truth which the folly they teach encrusts, were panic-struck at 
 finding the battery of reason, which had proved so powerful, 
 under Paine's management, against kings, aimed at them, and 
 by the same skilful engineer. They therefore spared no pains 
 which malice and the mean cowardice which a "consciousness 
 of guilt" inspires, could invent, to get up some show of ma- 
 terials, out of which to manufacture a recantation, But not 
 the least particle of any proof of what they sought did they 
 obtain ; all the pious tales with which they have insulted the 
 world on the subject, are sheer fabrications. Yet the Christian 
 judge who sentenced Cheetham for libel on account of one of 
 these wretched impositions, did not blush, says Mr. Vale, to 
 " compliment " that arch impostor for having by the very act 
 for which he was legally compelled to condemn him to pay 
 "heavy damages/' produced a work useful to religion ! * 
 
 Not long before his death, Mr. Paine, in the course of con- 
 versation with his friend Jarvis, at whose house he then was, 
 observed: " Now I am in health, and in perfect soundness of 
 mind; now is the time to express my opinion." He then 
 solemnly declared that his views, as set forth in his theological 
 writings, remained the same. 
 
 The late Dr. Manly, on the occasion of my calling his atten- 
 tion to an article in an English Encyclopedia, which conveyed 
 the idea that he testified to Paine's recantation, assured me 
 that the author of " The Age of Reason" "did not recant;" and 
 the Doctor seemed not over pleased that his words had been 
 
 * From a large pamphlet, entitled " Grant Thorburn and Thomas Paine." 
 recently put forth gratis by Mr. Oliver White, I learn that a religious pub- 
 lisher in New York has, within a few years past, had to pay damages for a 
 malicious article aimed at the character of Paine, but which incidentally hit 
 somebody else; which article, it is but justice to the publisher's memory 
 (for he is now dead) to say, he wa* betrayed into publishing, probably with- 
 out any ill intention on his part.
 
 PERIOD THIRD. 77 
 
 tortured into giving the impression they did. He believed 
 that Mr. Paine's last words were, " I don't wish to hear any- 
 thing more about that man," in answer to the question, "Do 
 you wish to believe in Jesus Christ 1 ?" I think I remember Dr. 
 Manly's words correctly, though Mr. Vale says that the answer 
 of Paine, as reported by Dr. Manly, was, " I have no wish to 
 believe on the subject." It will be perceived, however, that 
 there is no material difference; and that Dr. Manly might, on 
 two several occasions, and at wide intervals, have stated the 
 answer in both ways; either of which conveys essentially the 
 same meaning. 
 
 On one occasion, a Methodist preacher obtruded himself on 
 Mr. Paine, and abruptly told him that "unless he repented of 
 his unbelief, he would be damned." To which the almost dying 
 man, partly rising in his bed, indignantly answered,, that if he 
 was able, he would immediately put him out of the room. This 
 scene is related by Mr. Willit Hicks, of whom mention has 
 already been made. 
 
 The clergy condescended, in their desperation to blacken the 
 character, and destroy the influence of him who they feared 
 would otherwise put an end to the craft by which they had 
 their wealth, to make use of means which, in pity to poor 
 human nature, would I gladly consign to oblivion, and shall, 
 therefore, mention only some prominent cases. I have named 
 Cheetham, as he was a public character an editor. But I 
 shall in mercy let the names of the private individuals who 
 were the tools which the priesthood made use of in this con- 
 nection, sink beneath contempt; in fact, I feel not altogether 
 guiltless of sacrilege, in placing the name of any one of Thomas 
 Paine's slanderers in the same volume which contains his. 
 
 It has herein been indubitably proven that the first part of 
 "The Age of Reason," the first of Paine's "infidel" productions, 
 be it remembered, was written in 1793; and that the second 
 part was written some time thereafter. Franklin died in 1790. 
 Yet the "American Tract Society" has not scrupled to assert, 
 in a tract entitled " Don't Unchain the Tiger," that " When 
 an infidel production was submitted probably by Paine to 
 Benjamin Franklin, in manuscript, he returned it to the author, 
 with a letter, from which the following is extracted: "/ would 
 advise you not to attempt UNCHAINING THE TIGER, but to turn this 
 piece before it is seen by any other person." "If men are so 
 wicked with religion, what would they be WITHOUT it ?"
 
 78 PERIOD THIRD. 
 
 " Think" said he to Paine, in a letter, to which allusion has 
 been made, tl how many inconsiderate and inexperienced youth 
 of both sexes there are, who have need of the motives of religion 
 to restrain them from vice, to support their virtue, and retain 
 them in the practice of it till it becomes habitual." 
 
 It will be perceived that the above pretended extract is given 
 as though it was verbatim; though from a letter which, in a 
 very circuitous manner, and one most ingeniously calculated to 
 deceive is, after all, confessed to be only "probably" written. 
 The concluding portion of the extract is given only after con- 
 siderable pious dust has been most artistically thrown in the 
 eyes of the more prayerful than careful reader. Here, the 
 author of M Don't Unchain the Tiger," resolves no longer to let 
 " I dare not, wait upon I would," bnt fully declares, though in 
 a manner that would do credit to the most trickish Jesuit, that 
 ever mentally reserved the truth, that the " letter to which 
 mention has been made," was written by FRANKLIN to Paine, 
 evidently, as all can see, who have mastered the second rule of 
 arithmetic, three years after the death of the writer." Yet Pro- 
 testants laugh at Catholics for swallowing transubstantiation. 
 
 How firmly did they who put forth "Don't Unchain the 
 Tiger," believe in revelation 1 How much faith had they, in 
 the truth of a book wherein it is printed, that " God " had de- 
 clared "Liars shall have their part in the lake that burns 
 with fire and brimstone 1" 
 
 Mark this "probably" well. There is in it such an exquisite- 
 ness of all that is mean, cowardly, mendacious, and contemp- 
 tible. . 
 
 If the writer of " Don't Unchain the Tiger" ever saw any 
 letter from which he extracted what he pretends he has, did 
 not that letter inform him, past all "probably," and before he 
 made the first part of the extract, BY whom, and TO whom, it 
 was written 1 
 
 Oh, ye priests ! How low are you fallen ! What lower depths 
 can human degradation touch ? How much smaller can you, 
 your own contemptible selves, suppose the intellectual calibre 
 of your poor dupes to be ? What satisfaction can you feel in 
 the reverence of those whose understandings you thus estimate] 
 
 Compare the present position, in the social organism, of your 
 sincere disciples, with that which they occupied when what you 
 teach was the highest which man was prepared to receive. 
 
 But unless my memory serves me very badly, this " Tiger *
 
 PERIOD THIRD. 79 
 
 tract was originally published witlwut the "probably;" and 
 unequivocally named the " Age of Reason." I recollect well, 
 that about twenty -five years ago, a committee, one of whom was 
 the famous infidel lecturer, the late Mr. Benjamin Offen, called 
 at the Tract Society's agency, and pointed out how impossible 
 it was that this " Tiger " publication which hailed from thence, 
 could be true ; and I am strongly impressed that this miserable 
 " probably " has been the result. 
 
 Clergymen, it is neither in malice nor anger, but with feelings 
 of unfeigned sorrow and pity, that I use such language to and 
 respecting you. I have not a wish that would not be gratified, 
 were you at this moment at the head of mankind, teaching the 
 knowable; and until you are worthily reinstated in your rightful 
 your natural position in the social organism, violence, fraud, 
 humbug in fine, demagogism, will there revel, and you will be 
 its degraded purveyor. How do you relish the impudence with 
 which demagogism now snubs you back to the " supernatural," 
 whenever you dare utter a practical word ? 
 
 I could fill twenty pages or more with extracts, many of them 
 documentary, from previous histories of Paine, going to prove 
 that the author of " The Age of Reason " never recanted. But 
 can it be possible that those who possess a spark of reason, even, 
 can consider the matter of the slightest consequence 1 The 
 question of the truth or falsehood of a proposition is a matter 
 for the judgment to decide. Is the judgment of a dying man 
 more clear than that of a perfectly healthy one ! Was there 
 ever an instance known, of a human biped being so big a fool, 
 as to go to a dying man for advice in preference to going to him 
 for it when he was in health, where any known value was con- 
 cerned? The thing is too absurd to waste another word uponj 
 and I have noticed it at all, only to shew to what meanness 
 modern priests will stoop; to what miserable shifts the corrupt 
 hangers on to the superanuated and effete, are at length reduced. 
 At this day the wretched fortune-teller who deals out super- 
 naturalism by the fifty cents worth, may justly feel proud by 
 the side of the archbishop by the side of the successors of those 
 who, before the dawn of science, taught the highest of which 
 man was capable of receiving, thus starting civilization into 
 existence, and justly becoming mightier than kings. But the 
 time is fast approaching when they will teach the knowable and 
 efficient, and resume their natural position, that of the head of 
 the social organism. Till when, confusion will keep high noli-
 
 80 PERIOO THIRD. 
 
 day, folly be rampant, ignorance supreme, and superstition and 
 demagogism will be rife. The case is as clear as this: Man 
 come into the world ignorant, and of course needs teaching. 
 Yet what 'has been palmed off on man for elective government, 
 confessedly but represents him. The clergy professedly teach him ; 
 and of course, when they teach him right, as they will soon find 
 out that it is immeasurably more for their own advantage to do, 
 than it is to teach him wrong, all will be well. The human 
 race will, from that point in teaching, rapidly develop into a har- 
 moniously regulated organism ; a grand being, or God, to whom 
 all the conceivable and desirable will be possible. Each indivi- 
 dual will act as freely as do the wheels and springs of a perfect, 
 because scientifically and artistically, and harmoniously re- 
 gulated time-keeper. 
 
 At whatever stage of development caucus-and-ballot-boxism 
 takes charge of man, it assumes that he is, in the main, wise 
 enough already, that the majority is the fountain-head of both 
 wisdom and power; that rulers are legitimately but the servants 
 of the ruled. What balderdash. 
 
 The only government, except that of despotism or humbug, 
 that man ever has had, now has, or ever can have, was, is and 
 must be, under simple nature, that of science and art that of 
 teaching. 
 
 " Let me make the people's songs, and I care not who makes 
 their laws," said Napoleon. " Let me make the people's cradle- 
 hymns, and Sunday-schools catechisms," say I, "and I will 
 defy all the power which can be brought against me to supplant 
 me in their government, except by adopting my method." 
 
 And when the people's cradle-hymns and Sunday school cate- 
 chisms are composed by those who qualify themselves to lead, 
 direct, or govern mankind by science and art, and who derive 
 human law from the whole body of the knowable, instead of 
 from the wild regions of the speculative, and from the arbitrary 
 subjective, the world will be delivered from religious, political, 
 social, and moral quackery ; but not till then. And to whom- 
 soever says " lo here," " lo there" or lo anywhere except to the 
 science of sciences and art of arts of how to be free, I say, and 
 appeal for my justification, to the entire past, you are deceived 
 or a deceiver. 
 
 If the world was not deluded with the idea that reason and 
 free discussion are the only means that are available against 
 priestcraft and statecraft, it would long since have discovered
 
 PERIOD THIRD. 81 
 
 and applied the true remedy, viz.: to seize the citadel of the 
 infant mind of education; and thus institute a religion and 
 government of science and art, in place of a religion of mystery 
 and a government of despotism and humbug. False religion 
 and its correlate bad government, must be prevented. What- 
 ever religious or governmental notions are bred into man, can 
 never to any efficient extent, be got out of him. 
 
 Priestcraft and statecraft, in England and the United States, 
 would like nothing better than an assurance, that mankind's 
 reformers would henceforth confine their efforts to reason and free 
 discussion, and to the furtherance of education on its present plan 
 in all our schools and colleges. Priestcraft and statecraft would 
 then forever be as safe as would a well regulated army among 
 undisciplined savages, who did nothing but find fault with their 
 oppressors; and to the various cliques of which savages, the 
 regulars would suggest as many various plans for their own (the 
 regular's) overthrow, for them (the savages), to discuss over and 
 divide upon. 
 
 In one of the most purely monarchical countries in all Europe 
 (Germany) common school and collegiate education prominently 
 farm one of the government's pet projects. 
 
 In England, where the wheels of the state machinery 
 mutually neutralize each other's action, neither monarchs nor 
 ecclesiastics can do aught but keep themselves miserably rich, 
 and the great body of the people wretchedly poor. 
 
 Free discussion and reason have done what little good in 
 church and state affairs it was their function to do, except as 
 will be hereinafter mentioned/ and they are now in both Eng- 
 land and the United States, but the safety-valve which prevents 
 the boiler of the ecclesiastical steam-engine from bursting; and 
 secures political despotism, swindling, and corruption, from 
 having to do anything but change hands. 
 
 Reason and free discussion are now the fifth wheel of the car 
 of progress, whose useless noise and comparatively singular 
 appearance diverts attention from the slow; nay, backward 
 movement, of the other four wheels, and thus prevents any 
 change for the better being made. 
 
 If, on the continent of Europe, monarchs and the Pope forbid 
 political and religious free discussion, it is not because they are 
 afraid that the first will lead to liberty, or the second to practi- 
 cal wisdom. They are perfectly aware that free talking but 
 disturbs political and religious aliairs; and would only displace
 
 82 PERIOD THIRD. 
 
 themselves who are well seated in, and have grown fat on, 
 religious and political abuse, to make way for an ungorged 
 shoal of political and ecclesiastical leeches. 
 
 Passing lightly over the pitiable trash which in the United 
 States more than in any other country is palmed off on the 
 multitude for knowledge, look at our higher literature. See 
 how it truckles to the low, and narrow, and unscientific views 
 which confessedly had their rise when man was a mere savage. 
 Where, throughout the United States, is the magazine which 
 has the liberal and independent tone of the Westminster Re- 
 view, which hails from the capital of monarchy -governed and 
 confessedly church-taxed England 1 ? 'The most independent 
 magazine of which the United States can boast, is the "Atlantic 
 Monthly;" but I have strong misgivings as to whether they 
 whose monied interests are staked in it will thank me, or would 
 thank any one, for such praise. 
 
 But the orthodox clergy are already, owing almost wholly to 
 what mere fractional science and art have done, the laughing- 
 stock of nearly the entire scientific world, and the head-elf rgy 
 are writhing under the tortures of self -con tempt, in such agony, 
 that the main drift of their preaching is to try, without arousing 
 their dupes, to let the knowing ones (whom curiosity, interest, 
 or a desperate attempt to dispel Sabbatical ennui may have 
 brought into their congregations) see that they are not the fools 
 which they, for bread and butter's sake, pretend to be. 
 
 The following extract from a letter of Baron Humboldt to 
 his friend Yarnhagen Yon Ense, is a fair sample of the contempt 
 in which the apostles of mystery are held by men of science: 
 
 BKBLIN, March tl, 18JX. 
 
 My dear friend, so happily restored to me ! It is a source of 
 infinite joy to me to learn, from your exquisite letter, that the 
 really very delightful society of the Princess's has benefited 
 you physically, and therefore, as I should say, in my criminal 
 materialism, mentally also. Such a society, blown together 
 chiefly from the same fashionable world of Berlin (somewhat 
 flat and stale), immediately takes a new shape in the house of 
 Princess Pueckler. It is like the spirit which should breathe 
 life into the state ; the material seems ennobled. 
 
 I still retain your "Christliche Glaubenslehre," [a celebrated 
 work on the Christian Dogma, by Dr. David Friedrich Strauss] 
 I who long ago in Potsdam, was so delighted with Strauss'?
 
 PERIOD THIRD. 83 
 
 Life of the Saviour.* One learns from it not only what he 
 does not believe, which is less new to me, but rather what kind 
 of things have been believed and taught by those black coats 
 (parsons) who know how to enslave mankind anew, yea, who 
 are putting on the armour of their former adversaries. 
 
 But a still more encouraging aspect of the case is, that a 
 knowledge of the great truth is rapidly spreading, that all in 
 the human connection is a vast material organism, the possible 
 modifications of which are indicated by the organ of its highest 
 consciousness, man; and that the whole family of man is a 
 grand social organism (however, as yet, unjointed), the well- 
 being of every part of which, is indespeiisa'ble to that of every 
 other part. But more of this, shortly. 
 
 Mr. Paine suffered greatly during his Isst illness (his disease 
 being dropsy, attended with cough and constant vomiting), yet 
 his mental faculties remained unimpaired to the last. On the 
 8th of June, 1809, about nine o'clock in the forenoon, he ex- 
 pired, almost without a struggle. 
 
 I have, as the reader has seen, noticed some of the little 
 foibles and eccentricities of Mr. Paine; not, however, that they 
 were of any account, but simply because they attest that he was 
 not superhumanly perfect; that he was not that ridiculous cross 
 between man and " God," which the biographers of Washington 
 have placed him in the position of appearing to be. 
 
 Lovers are sure to have their petty quarrels, else they would 
 be indifferent to each other; and when prejudice shall be done 
 away with, mankind will love Thomas Paine none the less for 
 the human frailties which were just sufficient to show that he 
 belonged to human nature. 
 
 To-day after Mr. Paine's death, his remains were taken to 
 New Rochelle, attended by a few friends, and there buried on 
 his farm; and a plain stone was erected, with the following in- 
 scription : 
 
 THOMAS PAINE, 
 
 AUTHOR OP "COMMON SENSE." 
 
 Died June 8, 1809, aged seventy-two years and five months. 
 
 * Humboldt's "Letters to Varnhagen Von Ense," have just been pub- 
 lished by Messrs. Rudd Carleton : and Strauss' " Life of the Saviour, or, 
 to giva the work its full title, "The Life of Jesus Critically Examined," if
 
 84 PERIOD THIRD. 
 
 Mr. William Corbett afterward removed the bones of Mr. 
 Paine to England. 
 
 In 1839, through the exertions of a few friends of the liberal 
 cause, among whom Mr. G. Vale was very active, a neat monu- 
 ment was erected over the grave of Mr. Paine. Mr. Frazee, 
 an eminent artist, generously volunteered to do the sculpture. 
 This monument cost about thirteen hundred dollars. On it is 
 carved a representation of the head of Mr. Paine, underneath 
 which ia this inscription : 
 
 THOMAS PAINE, 
 
 AUTHOR OP 
 
 "COMMON SENSE." 
 
 Reader, did it ever occur to you, that all the crrmes which an 
 individual can commit, are in reality summed up in the word 
 misfortune ? Such is the fact. Society, therefore, not altogether 
 without reason, however regardless of justice, considers nothing 
 more disgraceful than misfortune ; and hence it is, that of all the 
 slanders got up to injure the reputation of Mr. Paine, and thus 
 prevent his influence, none have been more industriously circu- 
 lated, and none have proved more successful, than those which 
 i-epresented him as being in extreme poverty. Without further 
 remark, therefore, I shall call your attention to 
 
 THE WILL OF THOMAS PAINE. 
 
 The People of the State of New York, by the Grace of God, Free 
 and Independent, to all to whom these presents shall come or 
 may concern. Send Greeting: 
 
 Know ye that the annexed is a true copy of the will of 
 Thomas Paine, deceased, as recorded in the office of our sur- 
 rogate, in and for the city and county of New York. In tes- 
 timony whereof, we have caused the seal of office of our said 
 surrogate to be hereunto affixed. Witness, Silvanus Miller, 
 Esq., surrogate of said county, at the city of New York, the 
 twelfth day of July, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight 
 hundred and nine, and of our independence the thirty-fourth. 
 
 SILVANUS MILLER. 
 
 published by Calvin Blanchard. The translation is by Marian Evans, the 
 accomplished authoress of "Adam Bede,"and is pronounced by Strauss him- 
 eUf to be most elegantly done and perfectly correct.
 
 PERIOD THIRD. 85 
 
 The last will and testament of me, the subscriber, Thomas 
 Paine, reposing confidence in my Creator God, and in no other 
 being, for I know of no other, nor believe in any other, I, 
 Thomas Paine, of the State of New York, author of the work 
 entitled "Common Sense," written in Philadelphia, in 1 75, and 
 published in that city the beginning of January, 1776, which 
 awaked America to a Declaration of Independence, on the fourth 
 of July following, which was as fast as the work could spread 
 through such an extensive country ; author also of the several 
 numbers of the "American Crisis," thirteen in all, published 
 occasionally during the progress of the revolutionary war the 
 last is on the peace ; author also of the "Rights of Man," parts 
 the first and second, written and published in London, in 1791 
 and 1792 ; author also of a work on religion, "Age of Reason," 
 parts the first and second. N.B. I have a third part by me in 
 manuscript, and an answer to the Bishop of Landaff ; author 
 also of a work, lately published, entitled "Examination of the 
 passages in the New Testament quoted from the Old, and called 
 prophesies concerning Jesus Christ," and showing that there are 
 no prophecies of any such person ; author also of several other 
 works not here enumerated "Dissertations on the first Princi- 
 ples of Government," "Decline and Fall of the English System 
 of Finance," "Agrarian Justice," etc., etc., make this my last 
 will and testament, that is to say: I give and bequeath to my 
 executors hereinafter appointed, Walter Morton and Thomas 
 Addis Emmet, thirty shares I hold in the New York Phoenix 
 Insurance Company, which cost me 1470 dollars, they are worth 
 now upward of 1500 dollars, and all my moveable effects, and 
 also the money that may be in my trunk or elsewere at the time 
 of my decease, paying thereout the expenses of my funeral, in 
 trust as to the said shares, moveables, and money, for Margai*et 
 Brazier Bonneville, wife of Nichols Bonneville, of Paris, for her 
 own sole and seperate use, and at her own disposal, notwith- 
 standing her coverture. As to my farm in New Rochelle, I 
 give, devise, and bequeath the same to my said executors, 
 Walter Morton and Thomas Addis Emmet, and to the survivor 
 of them, his heirs and assigns for ever, in trust, nevertheless, to 
 sell and dispose of the north side thereof, now in the occupation 
 of Andrew A. Dean, beginning at the west end of the orchard 
 and running in a line with the land sold to Coles, to the end 
 of the farm, and to apply the money arising from such sale as 
 hereinafter directed. I give to my friends, Walter Morton, of
 
 S6 PERIOD THIRD. 
 
 the New York Phoenix Insurance Company, and Thomas Addis 
 Emmet, counsellor-at-law, late of Ireland, two hundred dollars 
 each, and one hundred dollars to Mrs. Palmer, widow of Elihu 
 Palmer, late of New York, to be paid out of the money arising 
 from said sale, and I give the remainder of the money arising 
 from that sale, one half thereof to Clio Bickman, of High or 
 Upper Mary-la-bone street, London, and the other half to 
 Nicholas Bonneville of Paris, husband of Margaret B. Bonne- 
 ville aforesaid: and as to the south part of the said farm, con- 
 taining upward of one hundred acres, in trust, to rent out the 
 same or otherwise put it to profit, as shall be found most advis- 
 adle, and to pay the rents and profits thereof to the said Mar- 
 garet B. Bonneville, in trust for her childern. Benjamin 
 Bonneville and Thomas Bonneville, their education and main- 
 tenance, until they come to the age of twenty-one years, in 
 order that she may bring them well up, give them good and 
 useful learning, and instruct them in their duty to God, and the 
 practice of morality, the rent of the land or the interest of the 
 money for which it may be sold, as hereinafter mentioned, to be 
 employed in their education. And after the youngest of the 
 said children shall have arrived at the age of twenty -one years, 
 in further trust to convey the same to the said children share 
 and share alike in fee simple. But if it shall be thought advis- 
 able by my executors and executrix, or the survivor or survivors 
 of them, at any time before the youngest of the said children 
 shall come of age, to sell and dispose of the said south side of 
 the said farm, in that case I hereby authorize and empower my 
 said executors to sell and dispose of the same, and I direct that 
 the money arising from such sale be put into stock, either in the 
 United States bank stock or New York Phoenix Insurance 
 company stock, the interest or dividends thereof to be applied 
 as is already directed, for the education and maintenance of the 
 said children: and the principal to be transferred to the said 
 children or the survivor of them on his or their coming of age. 
 I know not if the society of people called Quakers admit a 
 person to be buried in their burymg-ground, who does not be- 
 long to their society, but if they do, or will admit me, I would 
 prefer being buried there, my father belonged to that profession, 
 and I was partly brought up in it. But if it is not consistent 
 with their rules to do this, I desire to be buried on my farm at 
 New Rochelle. The place were I am to be buried to be a square 
 of twelve feet, to be enclosed with rows of trees, and a stone or
 
 PEEIOD THIRD. 87 
 
 post and railed fence, with a head-stone with my name and age 
 engraved upon it, author of "Common Sense." I nominate, 
 constitute, and appoint Walter Morton, of the New York Phoe- 
 nix Insurance company, and Thomas Addis Emmet, counsellor- 
 at-law, late of Ireland, and Margaret B. Bonne ville my executors 
 and executrix to this my last will and testament, requesting 
 them the said Walter Morton and Thomas Addis Emmet, that 
 they will give what assistance they conveniently can to Mrs. 
 Bonneville, and see that the children be well brought up. Thus 
 placing confidence in their friendship, I herewith take my final 
 leave of them and of the world. I have lived an honest and 
 useful life to mankind ; my time has been spent in doing good ; 
 and I die in perfect composure and resignation to the will of my 
 Creator God. Dated this eighteenth day of January, in the 
 year one thousand eight hundred and nine, and I have also 
 signed my name to the other sheet of this will in testimony of 
 its being a part thereof. 
 
 THOMAS PAINE. (L.S.) 
 
 Signed, sealed, and published and declared by the testator, in 
 our presence, who, at his request, and in the presence of each 
 other, have set our names as witnesses thereto, the words 
 "published and declared" first interlined. 
 
 WILLIAM KEESE, 
 JAMES ANGEVIES, 
 CORNELIUS BTDKB.
 
 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 
 
 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 
 
 I HAVE now, so far as I can discover, recorded all the facts 
 in relation to Thomas Paine, with which the public have any 
 eoncern. I have even repeated some things (under protest, be 
 it remembered) with which the public have no business what- 
 ever. 
 
 But the most important part of the task which, on reference 
 to my title-page, it will be perceived that I undertook, regains 
 to be completed. 
 
 Everyone will unquestionably draw their own condition 
 from facts or what they consider such. But I assure all whom 
 it may concern, that I should not consider myself justified in 
 troubling them with my views on matters of the vast impor- 
 tance of religion or highest law, and government or social science, 
 had I not devoted to these subjects long years of assiduous pre- 
 paration; had I not, rightly or wrongly, systemized facts ; even 
 now, I do so with a full consciousness of my need of vastly more 
 light. 
 
 Facts, separately considered, are but the unconnected links of 
 a chain; truth is the chain itself. Facts, in themselves, are 
 worth nothing; it is only the truths that are deducible from 
 them through their systemization that is of use. Brick, and 
 mortar, and beams, are facts; entirely useless, however, until 
 systemized into an edifice. Every man's life is a fact, but the 
 lives of such men as Rousseau, Paine, Coiate, Luther, and 
 Fourier, are sublime truths which are to help to give to the lives 
 of the individuals of our race, all that can be conceived of even 
 "eternal" value. 
 
 Strictly speaking, all authors are, like Paine, and Rousseau, 
 and Comte, heroes. But those writers who merely revamp, or 
 polish up old, worn out ideas, and then sell them back again 
 to those from whom they stole, or borrowed, or begged them, 
 are no more authors than they are manufactures who steal, 
 borrow, beg, or buy for next to nothing, old hats, iron them over, 
 and sell them back for new to their former owners, who in their
 
 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 89 
 
 delight to find how truly they fit their heads, do not suspect the 
 cheat. It's a somewhat difficult thing to make new hats fit 
 heads. It's a Herculean task to make new ideas fit them. It's 
 next to impossible to make new habits fit mankind. 
 
 The American Revolution, of which Paine was the " author 
 hero," and the French Revolution, of which Rousseau was the 
 great mover, were, as I trust we have already seen, but closely 
 connected incidents in the grand Revolution which began with 
 man's instinctive antagonism to all which stands in the way of 
 the perfect liberty which nature has, by one and the same act, 
 given him both the desire for, and the assurance of. 
 
 All which exists or has taken place, is connected with all 
 which ever has existed, or will exist or take place; and unless 
 the historian shows that connection, so far as it has a percep- 
 tible practical bearing history becomes but a mere collection of 
 curious, and otherwise barren details. 
 
 I have before directed the attention of the reader to. the fact, 
 that whoever penned the Declaration of our National Indep^n- 
 dance, must have well studied Rousseau's " Contrat Social." . 
 
 The Rev. Dr. Smith, in his " Divine Drama of History and 
 Civilization," speaks thus of the relation of Rousseau to his 
 time : 
 
 " Rousseau was the avenging spirit of the Evangelical Pro- 
 tastants whom monarchical France had massacred or banished. 
 He had the blood and the soul of the Presbyterian in him; but 
 he was drunk with vengeance, and he had, according to his own 
 confession, imbibed with his mother's milk the hatred of kings, 
 and nourished that hate and kept it warm. He declared that 
 though man was born free he was everywhere in chains. Be- 
 ing gifted with great eloquence, he delighted his readers. He 
 realized the government of the people and became the soul of 
 the Revolution." 
 
 " Twelve hundred human individuals," says Thomas Carlyle, 
 " with the Gospel of Jean Jacques Rousseau in their pocket, 
 congregating in the name of twenty-five millions, with full as- 
 surance of faith, to 'make the Constitution:' such sight, the 
 acme and main product of the eighteenth century, our World 
 can witness only once. For time is rich in wonders, in mon- 
 strosities most rich; and is observed never to repeat himself or 
 any of his Gospels : surely least of all this Gospel according to 
 Jean Jacques. Once it was right and indispensable, since such 
 had become the belief of man; but once also is enough."
 
 90 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 
 
 "They have made the Constitution, these Twelve Hundred 
 Jean- Jacques Evangelists." 
 
 " A new Fiftli Evangelist, Jean-Jacques, calling on men to 
 amend each the whole world's wicked existence, and be saved by 
 making the Constitution." 
 
 Thomas Carlyle in innumerable other cases speaks most lov- 
 ingly of " Poor Jean Jacques." In an elaborate critical estimate 
 of Rousseau and the men of the eighteenth century, he says: 
 " Hovering in the distance with use struck minatory air-stern- 
 beckoning, comes Rousseau. Poor Jean-Jaques ! Alternately 
 deified and cast to the dogs : a deep-minded, high-minded, even 
 noble, yet woefully misarranged mortal, with all the misforma- 
 tions of nature intensified to the verge of madness by unfavor- 
 able Fortune. A lonely man; his life a long soliloquy 1 ? The 
 wandering Tiresias of his time; in whom, however, did lie 
 prophetic meaning, such as none of the others offer. His true 
 character, with its lofty aspirings and poor performings; and 
 how the spirit of the man worked so wildly like celestial fire in 
 a thick, dark element of chaos, and shot forth etherial radiance, 
 all piercing lightning, yet could not illuminate, was quenched 
 and did not conquer; this, with what lies in it, may now be 
 pretty accurately appreciated," etc. 
 
 The world-famous " Confessions " of Rousseau have also 
 powerfully stimulated revolt against the most despotic of tyran- 
 nies that ever enchained the human race. No romance was 
 ever half so interesting. With resistless power their author 
 compels us to himself. Every page chains the reader with 
 electric fascination. With absorbing interest we follow him in 
 every step of his strange sad life. Not a scene in the " Confes- 
 sions " but what has formed the subject for a master piece by 
 some great artist. Rousseau was one of those men whose fame 
 the world has taken into its own hands. One of those big- 
 hearted, truth-loving, high-aspiring, yet sad-fated, stumbling 
 men, whose sufferings have been made up for by an eternal 
 meed of tenderness and love. He has been taken into the heart 
 of mankind. 
 
 Perhaps nothing could more markedly manifest the place 
 Jean Jacques holds in the heart of the world than the love and 
 reverence which have been lavished on him by all the high- 
 souled poets and writers in every land since his day. Goethe, 
 Schiller, Jean Paul, Shelley, Brougham, Byron, Carlyle, Tenny- 
 son, etc., etc. All that is fresh and lofty and spiritual in the
 
 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 91 
 
 new French school of Poetry and Literature, is distinctly trace- 
 able to Rousseau. Bernadin de Saint Pierre, Mad. de Stael, 
 Chateaubriand, Lamartine, etc., etc., were successively formed 
 under his influence, and adoringly worshipped him as their 
 master. Thomas Carlyle, in a conversation with Emerson (see 
 English Traits, p. 22), while speaking of the men who had in- 
 fluenced the formation of his character, declared that Rousseau's 
 " Confessions " had discovered to him that he (Carlyle) was not 
 a dunce. 
 
 R. W. Emerson, too, speaks of " The Confessions " as a book 
 so important in literature, that it was well worth while to trans- 
 late. . . its courage and precision of thought will keep it good." 
 
 And the high-souled Schiller hymns Rousseau thus : 
 
 " Hail grave of Rousseau ! here thy troubles cease 1 
 Thy life one search for freedom and for peace : 
 Thee peace and freedom life did ne'er allow : 
 Thy search is ended, and thou find'st them now ! 
 When will the old wound scar ! In the dark age 
 Perish'd the wise. Light comes how fared the sage? 
 The same in darkness or in light his fate, 
 Time brings no mercy to the bigot's hate ! 
 Socrates charmed philosophy to dwell 
 On earth ; by false philosophers he fell : 
 In Rousseau Christians marked their victim when 
 Rousseau endeavored to make Christians men ! " 
 
 Reader, please to skip the next six paragraphs, unless you 
 can pardon a digression (and I must confess to have given you 
 . some exercise in that respect already), and unless you further- 
 more love liberty, justice, and equal rights, not as things to be 
 merely talked about, sung about, and " fought, bled and died " 
 about, but as practical realities. 
 
 In a state of bliss in perfect contrast with what generally 
 passes for married life, Rousseau spent several years with 
 Madam De Warens ; a lady of noble birth, who was in comfort- 
 able circumstances, enjoying a pension from Victor Amadeus, 
 king of Sardinia. She was the wife of a man with whom she 
 could not live happily, and from whom she therefore separated. 
 Rousseau, in his "Confessions," thus describes her: "All who 
 loved her, loved each other. Jealousy and rivalry themselves 
 yielded to the dominant sentiment she inspired: and I never 
 saw any of those who surrounded her, entertain the slightest 
 ill-will towards each other." "I hazard the assertion, that if Soc- 
 rates could esteem Aspasia, he would have respected Madam de 
 Warens." " Let my reader," continues the enamored philoso-
 
 92 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 
 
 pher, " pause a moment at this eulogy ; and if he has in his 
 mind's eye any other woman of whom he can say this much, let 
 him, as he values his life's repose, cleave to her, were she, for 
 the rest, the lowest of drabs." 
 
 After eight years of bliss with Madam de Warens, that lady's 
 tasbe, though not her affections, changed. Rousseau, also wish- 
 ing to visit Paris, they parted in perfect friendship. At Paris, 
 Rosseau resumed the free-love connection with Therese Le Vas- 
 seur, a young girl of small accomplishments, but of a most ami- 
 able disposition. Some of the highest nobles in France (in- 
 cluding the king and queen) did not disdain to treat her with 
 marked respect; and after Rousseau's death, the government of 
 France pensioned Therese, instead of letting her die of hunger, 
 as the government of England, to its eternal disgrace, suffered 
 Lady Hamilton, the mistress of Lord Nelson, to do, although 
 to that accomplished Lady and to her influence and shrewd 
 management at the court of Naples, England owes the victory 
 of Trafalgar. One morning, whilst the king and his ministers 
 lay snoring, she managed to obtain from her intimate friend the 
 queen, a permit for her gallant free-lover, Nelson, to water his 
 fleet at Naples; but for which, he could not have pursued and 
 conquered the French at Trafalgar. His last request of the 
 country for whose cause he was dying, was, " Take care of my 
 dear Lady Hamilton." 
 
 Yet England was too "virtuous " to prevent Lady Hamilton 
 from depending on the charity of a poor French washer-woman ; 
 and from having, at last, to starve to death, in a garret, in the 
 capital of the nation whose navy had been almost destroyed 
 through her management and her lover's bravery. " Virtue " 
 and " piety " readily accept the services of those they impudently 
 style "vicious" and "profane," but generally consider it very 
 scandalous to reward them. 
 
 Some of the most " virtuous " citizens in every country in 
 Christendom do not hesitate to eat the bread and wear the 
 clothes purchased with the rent of those curses inseparable 
 from present social institutions, prostitution dens ; and 
 churches and missionaries, draw large revenues from these 
 "necessary evils " as they are cantingly called. Necessary evils? 
 If there is a " sin " which &just " God " could punish, it is that 
 of admitting that there exists " necessary evils;" for this " sin " 
 is a most eificient prolonger of the damnation of the human
 
 CONCLUDING APPLICATION, 93 
 
 But England did build monuments to Nelson, and he has had 
 all the honor of the victory of Trafalgar. Why did not Lady 
 Hamilton come in for a share of that honor 1 In addition to 
 what we have seen she did to procure that victory, can any 
 gallant man doubt, that her charms were the main stimulus of 
 Nelson's courage? What dangers would not a man that was a 
 man brave, in order to swell with delight, admiration, sand just 
 approval, the heart of her whom he adored, and who freely- 
 loved him ? 
 
 Reader, did you ever ask yourself why it is that gallant men 
 (and almost all notable men are gallant) are applauded in high 
 society, and are comparatively little blamed or frowned upon 
 among the million 1 Surely, gallantry in woman is really no 
 more "vicious " than it is in man; it is simply because, owing 
 to ignorance with respect to the regulation of love affairs, it is 
 more inconvenient that it is more discountenanced. It is because 
 women have to be, under present institutions, considered as chat- 
 tels; as articles of luxury; which no man wants to be at the ex- 
 pense of, except for his own pleasure, of course. But for ignor- 
 ance of how to fully gratify every natural desire, there would be 
 no such words as either virtue or vice in the dictionary; and how- 
 ever amiable it is for people to forbear to gratify themselves in 
 any respect, at the expense of others, still, we should constantly 
 bear in mind that all the honor that has ever been bestowed on 
 " virtue " and self-denial, is primarily due to ignorance and pov- 
 erty; to ignorance of how to create the means whereby to dispense 
 with " virtue," self-denial, ay, and even that most virtuous of all 
 the virtues, charity; to ignorance of howto develop, modify, and 
 combine the substantial, till desire is but the measure of fulfill- 
 ment till to will is but the precursor of to have. 
 
 Human progress is generally divisable into three ages : the 
 age of mystery, the age of reason, and the age of practical science 
 and art. These answer to the theological, the critical and the 
 positive stages of the Grand Revolution just alluded to; of 
 which revolution, the " author hero " was AUGUSTE COMTE. 
 
 Rousseau and Paine had their forerunner in Martin Luther; 
 Comte's John Baptist was Charles Fourier. 
 
 To Martin Luther and Charles Fourier, mankind are almost 
 as much indebted, as to those for whom these prepared the 
 way. 
 
 Fourier was far more in advance of his time than was Lu- 
 ther; still, Luther's step was much the most perilous to himself.
 
 94 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 
 
 Whoever can look on the picture [I saw it in the Dusseldorf 
 Gallery] of Luther at the Diet of Worms, with dry eyes, with- 
 out feeling an admiration near akin to adoration for The Man 
 who would go where the cause of liberty called him, " though 
 there should be there as many devils as tiles on the roofs," must 
 be made of sterner stuff than I am. 
 
 Look ou that incarnation of bravery. See how undaunted 
 that single representative of the cause of the human race 
 stands, amUst the terrible array of princes and bishops. There 
 were six hundred of them ; headed by the Emperor himself. 
 
 As fearlessly as Paine first openly pronounced those trea- 
 sonable words " American Independence," Luther has dared 
 to burn the Pope's bull, even when there was not a crowned 
 head in all Christendom but trembled at that awful document. 
 Surely the heart that warms for P*ine.must glow for Luther. 
 Materialist though I am, I do reverence that brave monk. 
 Had the Elector of Saxony been the most absolute monarch 
 that ever reigned; and had the Landgrave of Hesse taken as 
 many wives* and concubines as the wisest man, in Jehovah's 
 estimation, that ever was or ever will be, is said to have had, 
 these princes would nevertheless deserve the eternal gratitude 
 of mankind, for the protection they afforded to the great apos- 
 tle of reform, but for the division, in the ranks of despotism, 
 which he created, a Rousseau and a Paine could not so soon 
 have preacJied liberty, nor could a Fourier and a Comte as yet 
 have indicated how to put it into practice. 
 
 To the zeal and liberality of Mr. Albert Brisbane, and to 
 the scholarship of Mr. Henry Clapp, Jr., are English readers 
 indebted for an introduction to Fourier's great work, "The 
 Social Destiny of Man."f And the same class of readers are 
 similarly indebted to Mr. Lorn be and Miss Harriet MartineauJ 
 
 * " All the theologians of Wittemberg assembled to draw up an answer 
 [to the Landgrave's petition to be allowed to have two wives], and the result 
 was a compromise. He was allowed a double marriage, on condition that 
 his second wife should not be publicly recognized." 
 
 " If, nevertheless, your highness is fully resolved to take a second wife, 
 we are of opinion that the marriage should be secret. " 
 
 " Given at Wittemberg, after the festival of St. Nicholas, 1539, Martin 
 Luther, Philip Melancthon, Martin Bucer, Antony Corvin, Adam, John 
 Lening, Justin Wintfert, Dionisius Melanther." Michelet's "Life of 
 Luther." 
 
 + Published by Calvin Blanchard. 
 
 + Between whom and Mr. Atkinson, there took place that admirable 
 correspondence r- he subiect of the "Laws of Man's Nature and Develop-
 
 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 95 
 
 (the latter aided by Professor Nichol) for being enabled to 
 acquaint themselves with "The Positive Philosophy of Auguste 
 Comte."* 
 
 These great works are carrying on a constructive, and there- 
 fore noiseless and unostentatious revolution; they do not (par- 
 ticularly the latter) appeal to the common understanding, and 
 the masses will know but little about them, until they feel 
 their beneficient effects. But the keen observer and the social 
 artist perceive that they have already given a new tone to all 
 the higher literature of Western Europe, and even, to some 
 extent, to that of the United States. 
 
 'Tis strange that they who are capacitated to think truth, 
 should so generally have made the unfortunate blunder of not 
 seeing that by the masses, truth of any great degree of com- 
 plexity can only be felt. Their religion is addressed almost 
 wholly to their feeling. Their knock-down argument to all 
 opposition, is, " / feel it to be true" A more unreasonable 
 scheme never emanated from Bedlam, than that of plying the 
 masses with reason, on subjects so complicated as are religion 
 and sociology. Has not the experiment uniformly proven the 
 truth of what I here assert 1 Reason is, of course, connected 
 with everything which a sane person voluntarily does or thinks 
 of. It is connected with the construction of the steam engine ; 
 and should be similarly and only similarly connected with 
 social architecture. 
 
 Numerous experiments to which the name of Fourier has 
 been attached, have failed. But there was not one of them 
 which bore the most distant resemblance to the system of the 
 great master, whose name they so over-zealously and rashly 
 appropriated. 
 
 A very successful trial of the household economies of Fourier 
 has been going on in New York for the last three years, under 
 the management of Mr. E. F. Underhill. His " Cosmopolitan 
 Hotel" comprises four elegant five story brown stone front 
 houses, situated in the most fashionable part of Fourteenth- 
 street. 
 
 The world has been prevented from becoming acquainted 
 with Fourier's magnificent discoveries in social architecture, 
 mainly through the agency of the blackest and most impudent 
 
 ment," republished in a neat volume by Mr. J. P. Menduiu, publisher of 
 <the "Boston Investigator." 
 
 Published by Calvin Blanchard.
 
 96 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 
 
 falsehood ever uttered. Fourier's system has been denounced 
 as communism ; whereas it is the very opposite of that. Our 
 present social hor' ';e-podge is Skidmoreism itself, when com- 
 pared with the system of which "The Social Destiny of Man," 
 not vithstanding its incidental and non-essential errors, is a 
 boLl and true outline. Next in importance to the discoveries 
 of Comte, are Fourier's with respect to the human passions, 
 and with respect to the equitable adjustment of the claims of 
 labor, skill, and capital. 
 
 But Fourier's system was, so to speak, the edifice in advance 
 of the foundation on which alone it could stand. Real liberty, 
 substantial happiness, and practical goodness, must have a 
 material basis. That basis has been furnished by Auguste 
 Comte. 
 
 Mr. Lewes, in his " Biographical History of Philosophy,"* 
 says: "Comte is the Bacon of the nineteenth century. Like 
 Bacon, he fully sees the cause of our intellectual anarchy, and 
 also sees the cure. We have no hesitation in recording our 
 conviction that the " Course de Philosophic Positive " is the 
 greatest work of our century, and will form one of the mighty 
 landmarks in the history of opinion. No one before him ever 
 dreamed of treating social problems otherwise than upon theo- 
 logical or metaphysical methods. He first showed how possi- 
 ble nay, how imperative it was that social questions should 
 be treated on the same footing with all other scientific ques- 
 tions." 
 
 And Mill, in his " System of Logic,"f speaks thus of " The 
 Positive Philosophy :" "A work which only requires to be 
 better known, to place its author in the very highest class of 
 European thinkers. ... A sociological system widely 
 removed from the vague and conjectural character of all for- 
 mer attempts, and worthy to take its place, at last, among 
 established sciences. ... A work which I hold to be far 
 the greatest yet produced in the Philosophy of the Sciences. 
 
 . . He (Comte) may truly be said to have created the 
 philosophy of the higher mathematics. . . . Whose view 
 of the philosophy of classification is the most erudite with 
 which I am acquainted. . . . His works are the only 
 source to which the reader can resort for a practical exempliti- 
 
 * This work should be in the possession of every scientific lover of liberty 
 It is published by D. AppleSon & Co. 
 t Published by Harper & Brother*
 
 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 97 
 
 cation of the study of social phenomena on the true principles 
 of the Historical Method. Of that method I do not hesitate to 
 pronounce them a model." 
 
 " Clearness and depth, comprehensiveness and precision hare 
 never, probably, been so remarkably united as in Auguste 
 Comte," says Professor Gillespie, of Union College, New York. 
 
 The following extracts from an article (understood to be by 
 Sir David Brewster) which appeared in the " Edinburgh Re- 
 view," will also give some further idea of the aim and charac- 
 ter of "The Positive Philosophy:" 
 
 " A work of profound science, marked with great acuteness 
 of reasoning, and conspicuous for the highest attributes of in- 
 tellectual power. It comprehends MATHEMATICS, ASTRONOMY, 
 PHYSICS, and CHEMISTRY, or the sciences of Inorganic Bodies ; 
 and PHYSIOLOGY, and SOCIAL PHYSICS, or the sciences of Organic 
 Bodies. 
 
 "Under the head of SOCIAL PHYSICS the author treats of 
 the general structure of human societies, of the fundamental 
 natural law of the development of the human species, and of 
 the progress of civilization. This last Section is sub-divided 
 into three heads the THEOLOGICAL EPOCH, the METAPHYSICAL 
 EPOCH, and the POSITIVE EPOCH the first of these embracing 
 FETISHISM, POLYTHEISM, and MONOTHEISM." 
 
 Referring to the Astronomical part of the work, the Reviewer 
 says, " We could have wished to place before our readers some 
 specimens of our author's manner of treating these difficult 
 and deeply interesting topics of his simple, yet powerful 
 eloquence of his enthusiastic admiration of intellectual super- 
 iority of his accuracy as a historian, his honesty as a judge, 
 and of his absolute freedom from all personal and national 
 feelings." 
 
 But the mental effort which produced the " Positive Philoso- 
 phy " was too much for the brain of any one man to make with 
 impunity, as the subsequent writings of the great positivist 
 show. With respect to these, aud particularly to Comte's 
 " Positive Religion," Mr. Lewes very considerately remarks, 
 " let us draw a veil over them ; " and I, who have made Comte 
 a study, will add, that any other view than this, with respect 
 to the writings which Comte sent forth to the world after the 
 " Positive Philosophy," is most ur^ust. 
 
 The clergy are at length aware that the slander and abuse 
 which they have bellowed forth from the pulpit against Paine, 
 7
 
 98 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 
 
 have advertised his works more effectually than ten per cent, of 
 their own salaries could have done through the newspapers; 
 and hence the profound silence which they maintain with re- 
 spect to the personality of Comte, and to the name of " The 
 Positive Philosophy." Priests know that the world's old religion 
 is dead; but they mean to prolong its decay to the utmost, in 
 order to feed, like carrion crows, on its rotten carcass; they 
 therefore take every precaution against having it stirred up. 
 
 Observe in what general terms the "black coats," as Hum- 
 boldt styles the parsons, denounce the materialism with which 
 all the high talent of the age in which we live is imbued. 
 They do not wish to let their dupes know that such men a 
 Humboldt and Comte did not believe in the existence of the 
 extra-almighty pedant whom they seat on the throne of the 
 universe. 
 
 We have already seen that the author of "Cosmos"* not 
 only held superstition and its ministers in as utter contempt as 
 as did he who wrote " The Age of Reason," but that he was 
 furthermore a thorough materialist; and the author of "The 
 Positive Philosophy" has mathematically annihilated a God 
 who can have no practical existence to man, together with the 
 supposed foundation of a faith, the further teaching of which 
 can but hold human perfection in abeyance. Yet the aristoc- 
 racy of Europe were proud of the companionship of Humboldt, 
 and emperors and kings presented him with testimonials of 
 their high regard. 
 
 As to Auguste Comte, it is rumored that the Emperor 
 Napoleon III. held frequent conferences with him ; and the 
 encouragement which that monarch is giving to men of science 
 is matter of public notoriety. 
 
 But how does " The Model Republic" compare with monarch- 
 ical Europe in these vitally important matters? Is not the 
 noise which, in the United States, is made about freedom, as 
 hollow as is the din with which our loud-belled churches call 
 their congregations to the worship of him who they neverthe- 
 less say enjoined secret devotion? 
 
 In a country where no throned sovereign bears sway, where 
 no crowned pope sends forth his bull forbidding the offices of 
 human kindness to be extended to those who have incurred his 
 displeasure, what dread tyrant willed that Thomas Paine should 
 be shunned by many of his illustrious compeers; that his 
 
 * Bepubliabed by Messrs. Harper & Brothers.
 
 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 99 
 
 bones should be refused a resting place beside those of even the 
 least persecuting and vindictive of all the Christian sects ; that 
 his name should be almost left out of the history of the glorious 
 deeds which his inspiration caused to be performed, and even 
 to this day, be held in utter abhorrence by nearly all those for 
 whose welfare his life and splendid talents were so cheerfully 
 devoted ? Who is that tyrant ? 
 
 " Priestcraft !" readily answer they who zealously advocate 
 popular free discussion, and an appeal to popular opinion, as a 
 means of finding out how to deal with those most important 
 and complicated of all affairs, religion and government. 
 "Priestcraft!" they exclaim; as they lavish their carefully 
 unsystemized sociological facts, their critical expositions, and 
 their logical deductions, upon the horrified, astounded and 
 enraged, but not at all edified multitude. 
 
 Well, my friends, between you and me, I must acknowledge 
 that you have slapped that tyrant's prime minister full in the 
 face. Try it again. But first gather up your pearls, lest the 
 many before whom you have indiscriminately cast them, and 
 who want something of which they can make a far more prac- 
 tical and satisfactory use, turn upon and "rend you." 
 
 " Ignorance ! of course we know that priestcraft thrives on 
 ignorance. Ignorance is that tyrant;" methinks I hear you 
 further answer. 
 
 Yes, my friends, ignorance is that tyrant. But still, the 
 most important, and by far most difficult question remains 
 unanswered. He is not ignorance of the fact that the Bible is 
 of human origin. The Bible is but one of the weather-cocks 
 which tell which way the wind of popular folly blows. The 
 Koran is another, and so is the Book of Mormon. And they 
 are all rather useful than otherwise, as they furnish sugges- 
 tions as to the course to be pursued by scientific and artistic 
 reformers. He is not ignorance with respect to reading, writ- 
 ing, geography, grammar, arithmetic, Greek, Latin; in short, 
 he is not ignorance of anything which has hitherto been taught 
 or thought of in any school or college. 
 
 " I'll tell you what he is ignorance of, presently ; and, at the 
 same time, I will demonstrate how to liberate man from his 
 despotism, and rescue the memory of Thomas Paine from the 
 reproach which has been so unjustly, so blindly, or else so un- 
 intentionally heaped upon it. 
 
 Are such rights as English Constitutionalism can give us
 
 100 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 
 
 worth contending for 1 Independence is the only measure that 
 can be of any avail; substantially said Thomas Paine to those 
 more cautious rebels who, at the commencement of " the times 
 that tried men's LOU!S," were glooming over the miserable effects 
 which half measures had produced. 
 
 Are such shams of rights as caucus-and-ballot-boxism can 
 give us, \7orth spending any more time, and money, and agita- 
 tion upon 1 ? I ask, and appeal to what has been most lyingly 
 named free government in Greece, Rome, England. Venice, 
 France, the United States, and wherever else it has been at- 
 tempted to make permanent the crisis stage of progress which 
 marks the departure from monarchy. No, my friends, Art- 
 Liberty alone, can be of any avail. 
 
 Art-Liberty may now sound as strange as did American In- 
 dependence when first pronounced by Thomas Paine; ay, and 
 as treasonable, too. Still, I repeat, nothing short of Art- 
 Liberty can prevent the freedom-experiment which Paine so 
 powerfully incited, from failing in the United States, as badly 
 as it has in every other country where it has been tried. 
 
 How far short of such failure is that experiment now 1 when 
 statesmen, and philosophers, ay, and philanthropists, are 
 seriously discussing the question, whether "free-laborers" or 
 "slaves" have the most uncomfortable time of it? 
 
 Look at the opaque web of entanglement which our " repre- 
 sentatives" have wove, or "enacted" for us, and called "law." 
 Look at the wretched and expensive farces which the adminis- 
 terers of these "laws" play, under the name of "trials." Are 
 caucusing, balloting, " constitutions," " laws," and jury-trial- 
 justice the sum and substance of the liberty for which Paine 
 stimulated that glorious band which Washington led, to sacri- 
 fice their lives'? Is this the end of the revoluion which " Com- 
 mon Sense" instigated] 
 
 Was the earth fertilized and the ocean reddened with human 
 blood, and were both earth and ocean strewn with the ashes and 
 the wrecks of human skill and industry, in order to achieve 
 demagogism ? In fine, are nature's resources fully exhausted, 
 only to produce such a miserable abortion that her highest 
 being, man, abjures her for the "supernatural?" Surely this 
 cannot be so. 
 
 Reader, did you ever notice the fact that the United States 
 Government and that of Russia are, and have always been on 
 remarkably loving terms with each other ? Well, this is but
 
 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 101 
 
 as natural as it is for "birds of a feather to flock together." 
 The political systems of both Russia and America, are, about 
 equally, as pure absolutisms as governments can be. In 
 Russia, the head of the majority -despotism which tyrannizes, is 
 designated by birth. The Russian Government is a simple 
 despotism, modifiable by assassination. In the United States, 
 the band of conspirators for wholesale violence and wrong, 
 the head, or directory of the majority despotism which tyrannizes, 
 is designated by caucus, fraud, and ballot-box jugglery; aided 
 by perjury, bribery, corruption, and by the occasional use of 
 the first, the bludgeon, the dagger, and the pistol. The 
 difference between Russian and American despotism is so non- 
 essential, that no two great governments in the world have 
 shown such marked good feeling for each other, as have that 
 of the Czar and those favorites with whom he shares the spoils, 
 and that of the President, by whom and his sycophants, the 
 United States is freshly subjugated and plundered every four 
 years. 
 
 But what do you mean by Art-Liberty ? Methinks I hear 
 those ask who have not already hid their stupidity from them- 
 selves, under that common cover of dullness, "Utopia." 
 
 By Art-Liberty, my friends, I mean the practical appli- 
 cation of all science and art systemized, as fast as unfolded. 
 The only law which can govern a free state must be discov- 
 ered; it must be drawn from the whole of science and art; 
 not "enacted;" human law can no more be "enacted" than 
 can physical law. 
 
 Art-Liberty will be the crowning art of arts in developing 
 nature's resources, of discovering and modifying her laws, and 
 of combining her powers till "creation" shall be complete; till 
 supply shall be adequate to demand; till nature's grand end, 
 which the aim of her highest consciousness instinctively indi- 
 cates, is attained; till nature's highest organism, man, attains 
 to happiness not only perfect, but lasting enough to fully satisfy 
 this five-sense nature without recourse to "beyond the skies;" 
 till all physical obstacles to man's Liberty to be happy are re- 
 moved, even to the unfriendliness of climate! Not, by such 
 fanciful means as that great seer, Fourier, supposed, but wholly 
 through the working, with nature, of science and art, which 
 have conquered steam and electricity, and made so many other 
 things which were inimical to man's happiness, the very means 
 of promoting it ; and which will make the good of everything,
 
 102 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 
 
 through use, in exact proportion to its present evil, through 
 au*#e or neglect. 
 
 Man's leaders, must find out how to satisfy man's highest 
 aspirations, insteid of catering for his prejudices; instead of 
 confirming him, by flattery and cajolery, in his false, superna- 
 turalistic notions; instead of studying the trickery of repre- 
 senting and plundering him. And they will rapidly find this 
 out, as soon as a knowledge (already attained) of the unity 
 of science, spreads among them, and along with it, its correllate, 
 that all mankind are one organism, no individual of which 
 can be indifferent to each and all of the others. Enlightened, 
 far-seeing, all-benefiting selfishness will then take the place of 
 short-sighted, suicidal, penny- wise pound-foolish cunning; and 
 that barricade of hypocrisy, duty, that most fallible of all 
 guides, conscience, and " virtue " and " vice," those most un- 
 scientific and mischievous expressions that have ever crept into 
 the vocabulary of human folly, will be obsolete. 
 
 Let us draw a picture of the condition of things which the 
 current schemes of politics, religion, moralism, "virtue," and 
 " law " must very shortly produce, if they had unopposed sway 
 if the requirements of both our civil and religious guides 
 were fully complied with : 
 
 If all contracts in accordance with present " law " were ful- 
 filled to the letter, and if all the "duties" enjoined by the 
 present moralism were unflinchingly performed, and if all 
 which " virtue " styles " vice " was entirely abstained from, 
 and if what is now " free trade " according to " law," had a 
 " fair field," how long would it take a millionth of the earth's 
 inhabitants to accumulate all its wealth? In my opinion, it 
 would not take ten generations to produce that reign of 
 " law," " principle," " morality," " virtue," and " free trade," 
 or " mind-your-own business," and-every-one-for-himself-ism, 
 on the earth. 
 
 But there must be no stealing, swindling, or robbery, as 
 Ifiijally defined, on any account ; and there must be no sexual 
 intercourse out of the bonds of monogamy, even for bread ; and 
 above all, there must be no acts, or even words of treason. 
 The laboring man and the laboring woman, must patiently and 
 slowly (nay, not very slowly I'm thinking) die on such wages 
 as they who, in perfect security, hold all the wealth, chose to 
 give ; and those out of work must brave martyrdom to 
 " principle" by starving, straightway, unless they can obtain a
 
 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 103 
 
 " permit," to drag out a few months, possibly years, in sack- 
 cloth and on water-gruel in an alms-house.* 
 
 In all soberness, I ask, is not this a fair statement of the 
 case 1 and, therefore, is not an entire change, religious, social, 
 and moral, the only thing that can cure present religious, social, 
 and moral disease 1 And who are nearest to the " kingdom of 
 heaven 1 ?" who are least obstructive to the " millenium V they 
 who are now considered moral, virtuous, and respectable, or 
 they whom such term immoral, vicious, and the vilest of the 
 vile? 
 
 The only thing that ever made me seriously consider whether 
 or not "Jesus" was a divine personage, was the preference 
 which he uniformly gave to "sinners," "publicans and har- 
 lots," even, over the " Scribes, Pharisees and hypocrites," who 
 performed all which " the law " and moralism required. And 
 I must confess that I am still astonished that any one should, 
 almost two thousand years ago, so fully have understood what 
 so very few, even now, have any conception of. Yet this, the 
 strongest argument which can be adduced to prove " Christ's " 
 divinity, the doctors of that divinity have never, to my know- 
 ledge, brought up. Need I add that the reason is very evi- 
 dent? Of course, were the doctors aforesaid to make a 
 thorough use of this argument, they would upset the whole 
 present political, legal, and moral scheme. Well, would it not 
 be best to overthrow it by any means whatever 1 or, to put the 
 question more justly, can present "institutions" be too soon 
 or too thoroughly superseded by those which Art-Liberty, but 
 for them, would produce 1 
 
 Opinionism and moralism, like " supernaturalism," (of which 
 they are the refinement) have ages since, exhausted what little 
 power for good they ever had, and became so exceedingly mor- 
 bific to the social organism, that they cannot be too speedily 
 excreted. Reason and free discussion were once, in the fifth 
 cfmtury, I believe, seriously engaged on the question as to 
 whether angels could go from one point to another without 
 passing through intermediate space; and I myself, in the nine- 
 teenth century, have heard reason and free discussion on the 
 question as to whether there was or was not a personal devil ; 
 
 * I claim to have here made a very liberal concession ; for I have strong 
 doubts as to whether old fogyism, if it had it all its own way, and had not 
 the slightest fear of being disturbed, would furnish even alms-houses, sack- 
 cloth, and water-gruel to any of its victims ; to those who were too "shift- 
 less " to take care of themselves.
 
 104 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 
 
 nay, that devil's tail was actually discussed and reasoned upon. 
 How much progress have reason and free discussion made since 
 the fifth century ? Have they made any? Are we not indebted 
 for every bit of liberty we enjoy now, more than mankind did 
 then, to science and art? always excepting what little good 
 reason and free discussion of subjectivism have done as very 
 common and proportionably subordinate auxiliaries, during 
 crisis-stages of revolution. Then, these weapons, when wielded 
 by such men as Thomas Paine, ivere of use; nay would lia-ce 
 been of use, had the social structure which they were the instru- 
 ments of tearing down been replaced by one really new, in- 
 stead of by one built of the damaged, ay, even rotten materials 
 of the old one. Paine did all which he could be expected to do ; 
 but his noble efforts were not seconded ; for they who wield 
 his weapons now resemble those soldiers who, instead of attack- 
 ing fresh foes, continue to thrust their swords into the bodies 
 of the slain. Was Thomas Paine here to-day, his old remedies, 
 religious and political popular free discussion and reasoning 
 would be thrown aside; or only used to assist science and art 
 to displace them in religious and state affairs. How otherwise 
 could he be Thomas Paine ? He who was the very incarnation 
 of revolution? True, he trusted that he should "never use 
 any other weapons than those of reason ;"* but he had before 
 trusted that British constitutionalism was the best possible 
 thing for the State. Yet how widely and nobly did he after- 
 wards change his course in that respect ; and would he not now 
 see full as much cause as he did then, for taking another tack ? 
 Can any sensible person, who would honor his memory, say 
 that he would not ? say that he would be satisfied with the 
 despotism which caucus-and-ballot-boxism has palmed off on us, 
 or with any of the means hitherto used to get rid of it ? 
 
 Man's right to be self-governed is, equally with his desire to 
 
 * " The most formidable weapon against errors of every kind is Reason. 
 I have never used any other, and I trust I never shall ;" says 1 aine, in his 
 dedication of "The Age of Reason" to his "fellow-citizens of the United 
 States of America." But he had dreadful eyperience of the rebound against 
 himself, which the blows that he dealt with that weapon caused. And super- 
 stition is fully as rampant with the multitude now, as it was before the ' 'Age 
 of Reason " was written ; and it is as rife now, as it then was, even with 
 the higher classes ; with the exception that is clearly traceable to science 
 and art. Every man of intelligence at all above the vulgar knows, that not 
 only Ethan Alien, Jefferson, and Franklin "were infidels" as the phrase is, 
 but that Lafayette, and, in fact, nearly all the other revolutionary worthier, 
 no more believed in the " divinity " of " The Bible," than Paine did.
 
 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 105- 
 
 be so, self-evident. But what is more insultingly termed " elec- 
 tive " franchise, is the farthest thing possible from self-govern- 
 ment. It is, except as a transient or crisis-stage expedient, of 
 all fallacies the most monstrous. As a permanency, it has no 
 type, and consequently no warrant throughout nature. In 
 every instance where majority ism has become chronic, it lias 
 proved as bewildering and destructive to the social organism, 
 as the worst insanity proves to the individual. There is no 
 record of society's being afflicted with the caucus-and-ballot-box 
 mania for any considerable length of time, without having to 
 be confined in the straight jacket of military despotism; or 
 prescribed a double dose of essentially the same kind of tyranny 
 from which it had been so madly supposed that an escape had 
 been made. What, then, I ask, in behalf of Thomas Paine, 
 whose distinguishing characteristic was to " go ahead," is the 
 use of fooling any longer with the speculative, abstract, tanta- 
 lizing shadows of human rights, which our corrupt, spoil-seek- 
 ing demagogues impudently palm off on us for liberty ? And 
 why persist longer in repeating the miserable religious and 
 moral failures into which our religious and moral quacks plunge 
 us? 
 
 To what purpose have both religion and politics been so freely 
 discussed, for nearly a century past, in the United States, by 
 all who had more tongue than brain, and more vanity than 
 depth of research ? This is not saying that some wise and very 
 worthy people have not also been led into the fallacy that ab- 
 stract subjectivism was sufficient to remedy despotism. I was- 
 once in that unfortunate predicament myself; and the axiom of 
 Thomas Jefferson (I believe it was Jefferson's, at any rate it 
 is the axiom of his loudest followers) was, that error may be 
 safely trusted where reason is left free to combat it. But I 
 ask in all soberness, has error been safely trusted in the United 
 States, though reason is there as free to combat it as the ma- 
 jority will let it be 1 And with what good effect, so for as social 
 architecture is concerned, have carefully culled, and almost as 
 carefullv isolated facts been laid before the multitude, whose 
 views are necessarily confined to the specialities which consti- 
 tute their calling, since the acute stage of revolution in this 
 country 1 
 
 I tell you that facts to be worth anything, must be system- 
 ized; and that, too, immeasurably more in social or state affairs- 
 than in any others ; and that this requires the wisest heads that
 
 106 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 
 
 can grow on human shoulders, aided by all science and art, and 
 by the most laborious and uninterrupted preparation. Social 
 Science is the art of arts, not the art of political trickery. 
 
 In spite of all the freedom of the tongue and of the press 
 which the majority will allow to be exercised, or can allow to 
 be exercised till social science and art take charge of education, 
 is not our political system corrupt to the very core? Are not 
 tliey who have charge of the public treasury a very gang of 
 thieves ? And are not they whom " elective franchise " places 
 at the head of affairs, plunging the nation into brankruptcy 
 every few years, and at shorter and shorter intervals, by their 
 reckless wastefulness, in letting the life-blood of industry, as now 
 carried on money pour abroad like water, for the sake of 
 catching their dippers full of it ? 
 
 And as to religion: has not the empire state, New York, 
 in 1860, enacted Sunday-laws which would have done credit 
 to the Blue Code of Connecticut in 1650? Are not church- 
 building, and church-going, and revivalism, ay, and Mormon- 
 ism, rife among that very multitude that highest court from 
 whose dread decrees there is no present appeal, to whom free 
 discussion and facts have been presented to the extent they can 
 be by present methods ? 
 
 The popular free-discussion of affairs of the last degree of 
 complication religious and state affairs except during the 
 crisis period of revolution, only renders that worst of despotisms, 
 anarchy, chronic: it seats in the social organism, that political 
 gangrene demagogism which has always hitherto, sooner or 
 later, required the cauterization of military despotism (a 
 remedy all but as bad as the disease), in order to get rid of in 
 order to save even civilization. Despotism is the most inveter- 
 ate of all the diseases of the social organism which ignorance 
 lias inflicted ; nay, it is a complication of all its diseases. What, 
 my fellow-men, would any of you think of the physician who 
 should consult with an individual organism with a view to taking 
 that organism's opinion as to what course he (the physician) had 
 best pursue in order to cure him (the organism) of scrofula, 
 complicated with every other bodily disease to which flesh is 
 heir 1 Would not the patient, if he had one spark of common 
 sense left, order such a doctor. out of doors? with "Sir, I ex- 
 pected aid from your science and your healing art; and did not 
 employ you to mock and insult me in my wretchedness." 
 
 Would anyone who possessed a spark of reason, even, venture
 
 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 107 
 
 at sea in a vessel, with respect to the management of which, 
 the vote of all who happened to go on board was going to be 
 taken 1 And do the managers of the ship of state require less 
 preparation than do common sailors 1 Do they not require so 
 much more useful knowledge than they have ever been qualified 
 with, that they have always wrecked or capsized tho ship of 
 state, except where it is only a question of time when they will 
 do so 1 Evidently, church and state management require art 
 and skill infinitely superior to what " supernaturalism " and its 
 legitimate child, monarchism, or its bastard issue, caucus-and- 
 ballot-boxism, are capable of. From the dissecting room; the 
 chemical laboratory ; the astronomical observatory ; physicians' 
 and physiologists' study ; in fine from all the schools of science 
 and art, should human law be declared, instead of being " en- 
 acted" in legislative halls, by those who, in every respect besides 
 political trickery, fraud, and "smartness," are perfect ignor- 
 amuses. 
 
 Nature throughout, must be so modified (not changed); so 
 liberated from the thraldom of antagonism or counteraction,' in 
 short, so improved by art, that the conditions which now neces- 
 sitate despotism and evil will be superseded by those which 
 will make liberty, and all that is desirable, as spontaneous as is 
 the order of the spheres. 
 
 Man naturally desires to be good. There is not, never was, 
 and never can be, a sane human being who would not like to 
 have things so arranged, that every human desire cculd be fully 
 gratifed, instead of, as now, almost wholly denied gratification; 
 man's " holy "or " heavenly " desires, the very quintessence 
 of sensualness, are a constant, and will be an everlasting testi- 
 mony to the truth of this. 
 
 Priestcraft cannot be put down till man obtains his " being's 
 end and aim," or is satisfied that it is attainable, in this ma- 
 terial, this perceptible, this sense-world. To desire must be to 
 possess, with the exception (if it can be called an exception) of 
 the intervention of just exertion enough to give to possession 
 its due, value. Mankind will, with few exceptions, scorn reason, 
 so long as it arrays itself against human instinct; against what 
 man feels to be true. And until science and art give man (or 
 assures him that they can give him) the perfect and sufficiently 
 lasting happiness which he instinctively knows that the power 
 which created him owes him and stands pledged to give him or 
 turn out to be an almighty failure, he will pursue that hap pi-
 
 108 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 
 
 ness even beyond the grave; with priestcraft for his guide, of 
 course. 
 
 Can nature or all existence, fail ? and allow the drafts which, 
 on the indisputable testimony of the human passion, she has 
 authorized her highest beings to draw on her, to be protested ? 
 Surely, " supernaturalism " itself is less absurd than this. 
 
 Friends of human rights ! Believers in progress ! Is anything 
 more certain, than that combined science and its corresponding 
 art, or full and complete development, must prove adequate to 
 all for which " miracle " can be intelligibly invoked ? 
 
 Ignorance with respect to this, then; ignorance of how to 
 develop nature's resources, and modify and harmoniously com- 
 bine her powers, so as to liberate her tendency to perfection 
 from all obstructions so as that her means will be correspon- 
 dent to her ends, constitutes the tyrant in search of whom we 
 started. There he stands ! But he is not invulnerable, nor is 
 his fearfully, ay, all but " supernaturally " strong fortress im- 
 pregnable. Let us " up and at him," then as determinedly as 
 our sires of glorious memory charged his minions at Bunker 
 Hill. Parleying, as we have learned by long, sad experience, 
 is sheer nonsense ; quarter being out of the question. This arch 
 enemy of mankind must be annihilated before liberty can be 
 an actuality. And the religious faith of the human race must 
 be transferred from the mysterious and impossible, and from 
 their correlates, the subjective and speculative, to the intelli- 
 gible and practical. And these must be shown capable of ful- 
 filling man's highest aspirations, before he can truly understand 
 the mission, &nd fully appreciate the worth of THOMAS PAINE. 
 
 I trust I have shown that, to conquer the tyrant which 
 ignorance of how to be free constitutes, was the common aim, 
 and the real, however glimmeringly perceived object, of the 
 exertions of Rosseau, Paine, Comte, and all the other author- 
 heroes and heroines, who have ever written. In conclusion 
 allow me to propose a crisis-question for the practical consulta- 
 tion upon, of my friends, whose religion (if I may be allowed to 
 accuse them of having any) reason and free discussion compose. 
 
 How can man be extricated from having to grovel round and 
 round and round in the hopeless orbit which has mystery for 
 its centre, monarchy for his aphelion, deroagogism for itsperi- 
 helion, and unvarnished wretchedness or gilded misery for its 
 whole course, except by scientifically, artistically, and unitedly 
 creating the requisite conditions for Actual Liberty ?
 
 CONCLUDING APPLICATION. 109 
 
 All have their hobby. Mine, it will be pretty clearly per- 
 ceived is, that nature, through development, will prove all- 
 sufficient. 
 
 Come, all ye who delight in the amble of that well-tried hack, 
 popular religious, political, and sociological discussion, and 
 who do not not like the complexion of present religious, politi- 
 cal, and social institutions, and who are not enamoured of the 
 millennium which I have shown would constitute their ultima- 
 tum : If you object to Art-Liberty, please to lot the world know 
 definitely, what you do propose.
 
 110 APPENDIX, 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 As one of the most heroic acts of Thomas "7am 's ^ife, "TiA 
 one which also showed the profoundness of his political wise i, 
 was his speech in opposition to the execution of Louis XVI. [ 
 wish to draw particular attention to it; and therefore give it a 
 place in an Appendix; for I have observed that even the most 
 cursory readers generally look at the end of a work. 
 
 This speech, Mr. Paine well understood, would expose him to 
 the fiercest wrath of the Jacobins, who, sustained by the trium- 
 phant rabble, had resolved, in the king's case, to dispense with 
 even the/orms of "justice," to the extent of setting aside the 
 rule which required the sanction of a two-thirds majority for 
 the infliction of the death penalty. "We vote," protested 
 Lanjuinais, when the balloting was ordered to commence, 
 " under the daggers and the cannon of the factions." 
 
 In order to more fully understand in what fearful peril Mr. 
 Paine voluntarily placed himself by delivering this speech, it 
 will be necessary to know that "the factions" to which deputy 
 Lanjuinais referred, were composed of the cruel monsters (and 
 their abettors) who, a short time before, had "labored," as 
 their horrible, but " disinterested " leader, Maillard, termed it, 
 during thirty-six hours, at massacreing the unarmed prisoners, 
 who had been committed on mere suspicion of not being friendly 
 to the powers that then held sway; and for which "labor," 
 its zealous and industrious performers, all covered with blood 
 and brains, demanded instant payment of the committee of the 
 municipality, threatening them with instant death if they did 
 not comply. 
 
 " Do you think I have earned only twenty-four francs 1" said 
 one of these principled assassins, brandishing a massive weapor 
 " why, I nave siain forty with my own hands."
 
 APPENDIX. Ill 
 
 ZTEECTT OF THOMAS PATNE, AS DEPUTY IN THE NATIONAL 
 
 COJS VENTION OF FRANCE, IN OPPOSITION TO 
 
 THE EXECUTION OF THE KING. 
 
 CITIZEN PRESIDENT: 
 
 MY hatred and abhorrence of absolute monarchy are suffici- 
 ently known; they originated in principles of reason and 
 conviction, nor, except with life, can they ever be extirpated ; 
 but my compassion for the unfortunate, whether friend or 
 eneruy, is equally lively and sincere. 
 
 I voted that Louis should be tried, because it was necessary 
 to afford proofs to the world of the perhdy, corruption and 
 abomination o? the French government. 
 
 The infinity of evidence that has been produced exposes them 
 iii the most glaring and hideous colors. 
 
 Nevertheless I am inclined to believe that if Louis Capet had 
 been born in an obscure condition, had he lived within the circle 
 of an amiable and respectable neighborhood, at liberty to prac- 
 tice the duties of domestic life, had he been thus situated I can- 
 not believe that he would have shown himself destitute of social 
 virtues; we are, in a moment of fermentation like this, natur- 
 ally little indulgent to his vices, or rather to those of his gov- 
 ernment; we regard them with additional horror and indigna- 
 tion; not that they are more heinous than those of his prede- 
 cessors, but because our eyes are now open, and the veil of 
 delusion at length withdrawn; yet the lamentably degraded 
 state to which he is actually reduced is surely far less imputable 
 to him than to the constituent assembly which, of its own 
 authority, without consent or advice of the people, restored him 
 to the throne. 
 
 I was present at the time of the flight or abdication of Louis 
 XVI., and when he was taken and brought back. The proposal 
 of restoring to him the supreme power struck me with amaze- 
 ment; and although at that time I was not a citizen, yet as a 
 citizen of the world, 1 employed all the efforts that depended on 
 uie to prevent it. 
 
 A small society composed only of five persons,' two of whom 
 are now members of the convention, took at that time the name 
 of the Republican Club (Societe Republicaine). This society 
 opposed the restoration of Louis, not so much on account of 
 'MS p D ?sonal offences, as in order to overthrow monarchy, and
 
 112 APPENDIX. 
 
 to erect on its ruins the republican system and an equal repre- 
 sentation. 
 
 With this design I traced out in the English language 
 certain propositions which were translated, with some trifling 
 alteration, and signed by Achilles Duchelclet, lieutenant-general 
 in the army of the French republic, and at that time one of 
 the five members which composed our little party; the law 
 requiring the signature of a citizen at the bottom of each printed 
 paper. 
 
 The paper was inclignatly torn by Malouet, and brought forth 
 in this very room as an article of accusation against the person 
 who had signed it, the author, and their adherents ; but such is 
 the revolution of events that this paper is now revived, and 
 brought forth for a very opposite purpose. 
 
 To remind the nation of the error of that unfortunate day, 
 that fatal error of not having then banished Louis XVI. from 
 its bosom, the paper in question was conceived in the following 
 terms; and I bring it forward this day to plead in favor of his 
 exile preferably to his death. 
 
 " Brethren, and fellow Citizens: The serene tranquility, the 
 mutual confidence which prevailed amongst us during the time 
 of the late king's escape, the indifference with which we beheld 
 him return, are unequivocal proofs that the absence of the king 
 is more desirable than his presence, and that he is not only a 
 political superfluity but a grievous burthen pressing hard on the 
 whole nation. 
 
 " Let us not be imposed on by sophisms : all that concerns 
 this man is reduced to four points. He has abdicated the 
 throne in having fled from his post. Abdication and desertion 
 are not characterized by length of absence, but by the single act 
 of flight. In the present instance the act is everything, and 
 the time nothing. 
 
 " The nation can never give back its confidence to a man 
 who, false to his trust, perjured to his oath, conspires a clandes- 
 tine flight, obtains a fraudulent passport, conceals the king of 
 France under the disguise of a valet, directs his course towards 
 a frontier covered with traitors and deserters, and evidently 
 meditates a return into our country with a force capable of im- 
 posing his own despotic laws. Ought his flight to be considered 
 as his own act, or the act of those who fled with him 1 Was it 
 a spontaneous resolution of his own, or was it inspired into him 
 by others? The alternative is immaterial: whether fool o:-
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 iiypocrite, idiot or traitor, he has proved himself equally un- 
 worthy of the vast and important functions that have been 
 delegated to him. 
 
 " In every sense that the question can be considered, the re- 
 ciprocal obligations which subsisted between us are dissolved. 
 He holds no longer authority; we owe him no longer obedience; 
 we see in him no more than an indifferent person ; we can re- 
 gard him only as Lou's Capet. 
 
 "The history of France presents little else than a long series 
 of public calamity which takes its source from the vices of her 
 kings: we have been the wretched victims that have never 
 qgased to suffer either for them or by them. The catalogue 
 of their oppressions was complete, but to complete the sum of 
 their crimes, treason was yet wanting; now the only vacancy is 
 filled up, the dreadful list is full; the system is exhausted; 
 there are no remaining errors for them to commit, their reign is 
 consequently at an end. 
 
 " As to the personal safety of Mr. Louis Capet, it is so much 
 the more confirmed, as France will not stop to degrade herself 
 by a spirit of revenge against a wretch who has dishonored him- 
 self. In defending a just and glorious cause it is not possible 
 to degrade it; and the universal tranquility which prevails is 
 an undeniable proof that a free people know how to respect 
 themselves." 
 
 Having thus explained the principles and exertions*of the 
 republicans at that fatal ppriod when Louis was reinstated in 
 full possession of the executive power which by his flight had 
 been suspended, I return to the subject, and to the deplorable 
 condition in which the man is now actually involved. What 
 was neglected at the time of which I have been speaking has 
 been since brought about by the force of necessity. 
 
 The wilful treacherous defects in the former constitution 
 had been brought to light, the continual alarm of treason and 
 conspiracy roused the nation and produced eventfully a second 
 revolution. The people have beat down royalty, never, never 
 to rise again ; they have brought Louis Capet to the bar, and 
 demonstrated in the face of the whole world, the intrigues, the 
 falsehood, corruption, and rooted depravity of his government: 
 there remains then only one question to be considered, what is 
 to be done with this man ? 
 
 For myself, I freely confess that when I reflect on the unac- 
 countable folly that restored the executive power to his hands,
 
 1 14 APPENDIX. 
 
 all covered as he was with perjuries and treason, I am far 
 more ready to condemn the constituent assembly than the 
 unfortunate prisoner, Louis Capet. 
 
 But, abstracted from every other consideration, there is 
 one circumstance in his life which ought to cover or at least to 
 palliate a great number of his transgressions, and this very 
 circumstance affords the French nation a blessed occasion of 
 extricating itself from the yoke of its kings without defiling 
 itself in the impurities of their blood. 
 
 It is to France alone, I know, that the United States of 
 America owe that support which enabled them to shake off 
 an unjust and tyrannical yoke. The ardor and zeal which she 
 displayed to provide both men and money were the natural 
 consequences of a thirst for liberty. But as the nation at that 
 time, restrained by the shackles of her own Government, 
 could only act by means of a monarchical organ, this organ, 
 whatever in other respects the object might be, certainly per- 
 formed a good, a great action. 
 
 Let then these United States be the safeguard and asylum 
 of Louis Capet. There, hereafter, far removed from the mis- 
 eries and crimes of royalty, he may learn from the constant 
 aspect of public prosperity, that the true system of govern- 
 ment consists in fair, equal and honorable representation. 
 In relating this circumstance, and in submitting this propo- 
 sition, I consider myself as a citizen of both countries. 
 
 I submit it as a citizen of America who feels the debt of 
 gratitude which he owes to every Frenchman. I submit it 
 also as a man who cannot forget that kings are subject to 
 human frailties. I support my proposition as a citizen of 
 the French republic, because it appears to me the best, the 
 most politic measure that can be adopted. 
 
 As far as my experience in public life extends, I have ever 
 observed that the great mass of the people are invariably just, 
 both in their intentions and in their objects; but the true 
 method of accomplishing that effect, does not always show 
 itself in the first instance. For example, the English nation 
 has groaned under the despotism of the Stuarts. Hence 
 Charles I lost his life; yet Charles the lid. was restored to 
 all the plenitude of power which his father had lost 
 Forty years had not expired when the same family strove 
 to re-establish their ancient oppression; so the nation 
 then banished from its territories the whole tyrannical 
 race.. The remedy was effectual; the Stuart family sunk
 
 APPENDIX. 115 
 
 into obscurity, confounded itself with the multitude, and is at 
 length extinct. 
 
 The French nation has carried her measures of govern- 
 ment to a greater length. France is not satisfied with exposing 
 the guilt of the monarch, she has penetrated into the vices and 
 horrors of the monarchy. She has shown them clear as day- 
 light, and for ever crushed that system; and he, whoever he 
 may be, that should ever dare to reclaim those rights, would be 
 regarded not as a pretender, but punished as a traitor. 
 
 Two brothers of Louis Capet have banished themselves from 
 the country, but they are obliged to comply with the spirit and 
 etiquette of the courts where they reside. 
 
 They can advance no pretensions on their own account, so 
 long as Louis shall live. 
 
 The history of monarchy in France was a system pregnant 
 with crimes and murders, cancelling all natural ties, even those 
 by which brothers are united. We know how often they have 
 assassinated each other to pave a way to power. As those 
 hopes which the emigrants had reposed in Louis XVI. are fled, 
 the last that remains rests upon his death, and their situation 
 inclines them to desire this catastrophe, that they may once 
 again rally round a more active chief, and try one further effort 
 under the fortune of the cidevant Monsieur and d'Artois. That 
 such an enterprise would precipitate them into a new abyss of 
 calamity and disgrace, it is not difficult to foresee ; yet it might 
 be attended with mutual loss, and it is our duty, as legislators, 
 not to spill a drop of blood when our purpose may be effectually 
 accomplished without it. It has been already proposed to 
 abolish the punishment of death, and it is with infinite satis- 
 faction that I recollect the humane and excellent oration pro- 
 nounced by Robespierre on that subject in the constituent 
 assembly.* This cause must find its advocates in every corner 
 
 * Pause, reader, and weep over the blindness of those reformers who 
 depend on principle and good intention. Robespierre preached (oh, the 
 "foolishness of [popular] preaching" where social science is in question) 
 against the death-penalty ! And there can be no reasonable doubt but that 
 he was, in principle, opposed to it. 
 
 Marat once confidently exclaimed, in reference to his known incormpt- 
 ness : "A patriot so pure as myself, might communicate with the Devil." 
 The appropriateness of his association of personages a,nd attributes, he proba- 
 bly did not suspect. 
 
 When, oh when, will principle and moralism, and that main supporter of 
 " vice," "virtue," give place to practical goodness? 
 
 "Fly swifter round ye wheels of time 
 &.nd bring the welcome clay."
 
 116 APPENDIX. 
 
 where enlightened politicians and lovers of humanity exist, and 
 it ought above ail to find them in this assembly. 
 
 Bad governments have trained the human race, and inured it 
 to the sanguinary arts and refinements of punishment ; and it is 
 exactly the same punishment that has so long shocked the siyld 
 and tormented the patience of tlie people which now in their turn 
 they practise in revenge on their oppressors. 
 
 But it becomes us to be strictly on our guard against the 
 abomination and perversity of such examples. As France has 
 been the first of European nations to amend her government, 
 let her also be the first to abolish the punishment of death, and 
 to find out a milder and more effectual substitute. 
 
 In the particular case now under consideration, I submit the 
 following propositions, 1st. That the national convention shall 
 pronounce the sentence of banishment on Louis and his family : 
 2nd. That Louis Capet shall be detained in prison till the end 
 of the war, and then the sentence of banishment to be executed 
 
 THE un>.
 
 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<Mh<> 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 <tf God. I kMp to my Mxt-kaep to the m 
 f th word prophecy.
 
 ] THIS AOK OF REASON. 19 
 
 disputing about. In many things, however, the writings of 
 the Jewish poets deserve a better fate than that of being 
 bound up, as they are now, with the trash that accompanies 
 them, under the abused name of the word of God. 
 
 If we permit ourselves to conceive right ideas of things, 
 we must necessarily affix the idea, not only of unchangeable- 
 ness, but of the utter impossibility of any change taking 
 place, by any means or accident whatever, in that which we 
 would honor with the name of the word of God ; and there- 
 fore the word of God cannot exist in any written or human 
 language. 
 
 The continually progressive change to which the meaning 
 of words is subject, the want of an universal language which 
 renders translation necessary, the errors to which translations 
 are again subject, the mistakes of copyists and printers, to- 
 gether with the possibility of willful alteration, are of them- 
 selves evidences that the human language, whether in speech 
 or in print, cannot be the vehicle of the word of God. The 
 word of God exists in something else. 
 
 Did the book called the Bible, excel in purity of ideas and 
 expression all the books now extant in the world, I would 
 not take it for my rule of faith, as being the word of God, 
 because the possibility would nevertheless exist of my being 
 imposed upon. But when I see throughout the greater part 
 of this book, scarcely anything but a history of the grossest 
 vices, and a collection of the most paltry and contemptible 
 tales, I cannot dishonor my Creator by calling it by nil 
 name. 
 
 Thus much for the Bible; I now go on to the book called 
 the New Testament! that is, the new will, as if there could 
 be two wills of the Creator. 
 
 Had it been the object or the intention of Jesus Chriut to 
 establish a new religion, he would undoubtedly have written 
 the system himself, or procured it to be written in his lifetime. 
 But there is no publication extant authenticated with his 
 name. All the books called the New Testament were written 
 after his death. He was a Jew by birth and by profession; 
 and he was the son of God in like manner that every other 
 person is for the Creator is the Father of All. 
 
 The first four books, called Matthew, Mark, Luke, and 
 John, do not give a history of the life of Jesus Christ, but 
 only detached anecdotes of him. It appears from these books
 
 20 THB AOK OF HKASON. [PAST L 
 
 that the whole time of his being a preacher was not more 
 than eighteen months; and it was only during this short time 
 that those men became acquainted with him. They make 
 mention of him at the age of twelve years, sitting, they say, 
 among the Jewish doctors, asking and answering them ques- 
 tions. As this was several years before their acquaintance 
 with him began, it is most probable they had this anecdote 
 from his parents. From this time there is no account of him 
 for about sixteen years. Where he lived, or how he employed 
 himself during this interval, is not known. Most probably he 
 was working at his father's trade, which was that of a car- 
 penter. It does not appear that he had any school education, 
 and the probability is, that he could not write, for his parents 
 were extremely poor, as appears from their not being able to 
 pay for a bed when he was bom. 
 
 It is somewhat curious that the three persons whose names 
 are the most universally recorded, were of very obscure 
 parentage. Moses was a foundling; Jesus Christ was born 
 in a stable; and Mahomet was a mule driver. The first and 
 the last of these men were founders of different systems of 
 religion; but Jesus Christ founded no new system. He called 
 men to the practice of moral virtues, and the belief of one 
 God. The great trait in his character is philanthropy. 
 
 The manner in which he was apprehended, shows that he 
 was not much known at that time; and it shows, also, that the 
 meetings he then held with his followers were in secret; and 
 that he had given over or suspended preaching publicly. 
 Judas could no otherwise betray him than by giving informa- 
 tion where he was and pointing him out to the officers that 
 went to arrest him; and the reason for employing and paying 
 Judas to do this could arise only from the cause already 
 mentioned, that of hia not being much known, and living 
 concealed. 
 
 The idea of his concealment, not only agrees very ill with 
 his reputed divinity, but associates with it something of pusil- 
 lanimity; and his being betrayed, or in other words, his being 
 apprehended, on the information of one of his followers, 
 shows that he did not intend to be apprehended, and conse- 
 quently that he did not intend to be crucified. 
 
 The Christian Mythologists tell us, that Christ died for 
 the sins of the world, and that he came on purpose to die. 
 Would it not then, have been the same if he had died of a
 
 PAJtT I.] THE AGE OF BBASOtf. SI 
 
 fever, or of the small pox, of old age, or of anything else? 
 
 The declaratory sentence which, they say, was passed upon 
 Adam, in case he eat of the apple, was not, that thou shalt 
 surely be crucified, but, thou shalt surely die the sentence 
 of death, and not the manner of dying. Crucifixion, there- 
 fore, or any other particular manner of dying, made no part 
 of the sentence that Adam was to suffer, and consequently, 
 even upon their own tactics, it could make no part of the 
 sentence that Christ was to suffer in the room of Adam. A 
 fever would have done as well as a cross, if there was any 
 occasion for either. 
 
 The sentence of death, which they tell us, was thus 
 passed upon Adam, must either have meant dying naturally, 
 that is, ceasing to live, or have meant what those Mytholo- 
 gists call damnation; and consequently, the act of dying on 
 the part of Jesus Christ, must, according to their system, 
 apply as a prevention to one or other of these two things 
 happening to Adam and to us. 
 
 That it does not prevent our dying is evident, because we 
 all die; and if their accounts of longevity be true, men die 
 faster since the crucifixion than before; and with respect to 
 the second explanation, (including with it the natural death 
 of Jesus Christ as a substitute for the eternal death or 
 damnation of all mankind,) it is impertinently representing 
 the Creator as coming off, or revoking the sentence, by a pun 
 or a quibble upon the word death. That manufacturer of 
 quibbles, St. Paul, if he wrote the books that bear his name, 
 has helped this quibble on by making another quibble upon 
 the word Adam. He makes there to be two Adams; the 
 one who sins in fact, and suffers by proxy; the other who 
 sins by proxy, and suffers in fact. A religion thus inter- 
 larded with quibble, subterfuge, and pun, has a tendency to 
 instruct its professors in the practice of these arts. They 
 acquire the habit without being aware of the cause. 
 
 If Jesus Christ was the being which those Mythologista 
 tell us he was, and that he came into this world to tuffer, 
 which is a word they sometimes use instead of to die, the 
 only real suffering he could have endured, would have been 
 fr live. His existence here was a state of exilement or 
 transportation from Heaven, and the way back to his original 
 country was to die. In fine, everything in this strange system 
 is the reverse of what it pretends to be. It is the reverse of
 
 82 THE AGE OF REASON. [FART I. 
 
 truth> 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<r on, Wert thon, said he, to come to me urith the 
 run in thy right hand and the moon in thy left* it should not 
 alter my career. For Joshua to have exceeded Mahomet, he 
 should have put the sun and moon one in each pocket, and 
 carried them as Guy Faux carried his dark lantern, and 
 taken them out to shine as he might happen to want them. 
 
 The sublime and the ridiculous are often so nearly related 
 that it is difficult to class them separately. One step above 
 the sublime makes the ridiculous, and one step above the 
 ridiculous makes the sublime again; the account, however, 
 abstracted from the poetical fancy, shows the ignorance of 
 Joshua, for he should have commanded the earth to nave 
 stood still. 
 
 The time implied by the expression after it, that is, after 
 that day, being put in comparison with all the time that 
 passed before it, must, in order to give any expressive sig- 
 nification to the passage, mean a great length of time; for 
 example, it would have been ridiculous to have said so the 
 next day, or the next week, or the next month, or the next 
 year; to give, therefore, meaning to the passage, compara- 
 tive with the wonder it relates, and the prior time it alludes 
 to, it must mean centuries of years; less, however, than 
 one would be trifling, and less than two would be barely 
 admissible. 
 
 A distant, but general time, is also expressed in the 8th 
 chapter; where, after giving an account of the taking the 
 city of Ai, it is said, ver. 28th, " And Joshua burned Ai, and 
 made it an heap forever, a desolation unto this day;" and 
 again, ver. 29, where, speaking of the king of Ai, whom 
 Joshua had hanged, and buried at the entering of the gate, 
 it is said, " And he raised thereon a great heap of stones, 
 which remaineth unto this day," that is, unto the day or 
 time in which the writer of the book of Joshua lived. And 
 again, in the 10th chapter, where, after speaking of the five 
 kings whom Joshua had hanged on five trees, and then 
 thrown in a cave, it is said, " And he laid great stones on the 
 cave's mouth, which remain unto this very day.'* 
 
 In enumerating the several exploits of Joshua, and of the 
 tribes, and of the places which they conquered or attempted, 
 it u said, c. xv. ver. 63, *' As for the Jebusites, the inhabi- 
 tant* of Jerusalem, the children of Judah could not drive 
 them out; but the Jebusitet dwell with the children of
 
 P.AJBT II.] THB AGB OF REASON. 79 
 
 Judah at Jerusalem unto this day" The question upon thia 
 passage is, at what time did the Jebusites and the children 
 of Judah dwell together at Jerusalem? As this matter 
 occurs again in the first chapter of Judges, I shall reserve my 
 observations till I come to that part. 
 
 Having thus shown from the book of Joshua itself, without 
 any auxiliary evidence whatever, that Joshua is not the 
 author of that book, and that it is anonymous, and conse- 
 quently without authority, I proceed, as before-mentioned, 
 to the book of Judges. 
 
 The book of Judges is anonymous on the face of it; and, 
 therefore, even the pretense is wanting to call it the word 
 of God; it has not so much as a nominal voucher; it is alto- 
 gether fatherless. 
 
 This book begins with the same expression as the book 
 of Joshua. That of Joshua begins, chap. i. ver. 1, Novo 
 after the death of Moses, etc., and this of the Judges begins, 
 N~ow after the death of Joshua, etc. This, and the simi- 
 larity of style between the two books, indicate that they 
 are the work of the same author, but who he was, is alto- 
 gether unknown; the only point that the book proves is, 
 that the author lived long after the time of Joshua; for 
 though it begins as if it followed immediately after his 
 death, the second chapter is an epitome or abstract of the 
 whole book, which, according to the Bible chronology, extends 
 its history through a space of 306 years ; that is, from the 
 death of Joshua, 1426 years before Christ, to the death of 
 Samson, 1120 years before Christ, and only 25 years before 
 Saul went to seek his father's asses, and was made king. 
 But there is good reason to believe, that it was not written 
 till the time of David, at least, and that the book of Joshua 
 was not written before the same time. 
 
 In the first chapter of Judges, the writer, after announc- 
 ing the death of Joshua, proceeds to tell what happened 
 between the children of Judah and the native inhabitants of 
 the land of Canaan. In this statement, the writer, having 
 abruptly mentioned Jerusalem in the 7th verse, says imme- 
 diately after, in the 8th verse, by way of explanation, " Now 
 the children of Judah had fought against Jerusalem, and 
 taken it ;" consequently this book could not have been writ- 
 ten before Jerusalem had been taken. The reader will recol- 
 lect the quotation I have just before made from the 15th
 
 80 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART EL 
 
 chapter of Joshua, ver. 63, where it said that the Jebusites 
 dwell with the children of Judah at Jerusalem at this day , 
 meaning the time when the book of Joshua was written. 
 
 The evidence I have already produced, to prove that the 
 books I have hitherto treated of were not written by the 
 persons to whom they are ascribed, nor till many years after 
 their death, if such persons ever lived, is already so abundant, 
 that I can afford to admit this passage with less weight than 
 I am entitled to draw from it. For the case is that so far as 
 the Bible can be credited as an history, the city of Jerusalem 
 was not taken till the time of David ; and, consequently, the 
 books of Joshua, and of Judges, were not written till after 
 the commencement of the reign of David, which was 370 
 years after the death of Joshua. 
 
 The name of the city, that was afterwards called Jeru- 
 salem, was originally Jebus, or Jebusi, and was the capital 
 of the Jebusites. The account of David's taking this city is 
 given in 2 Samuel, chapter v., ver. 4, &c.; also in 1 Chron., 
 chap, xiv., ver. 4, &c. There is no mention in any part of 
 the Bible that it was ever taken before, nor any account that 
 favors such an opinion. It is said, either in Samuel or in 
 Chronicles, that they utterly destroyed men, women, and 
 children ; that they left not a soul to breathe, as is said of 
 their other conquests; and the silence here observed implies 
 that it was taken by capitulation, and that the Jebusites, the 
 native inhabitants, continued to live in the place after it was 
 taken. The account, therefore, given in Joshua that the Jebu- 
 sites dwell with the children of Judah at Jerusalem at this 
 day, corresponds to no other time than after the taking of 
 the city by David. 
 
 Having now shown that every book in the Bible, from 
 Genesis to Judges, is without authenticity, I come to the 
 book of liuth, an idle, bungling story, foolishly told, nobody 
 knows by whom, about a strolling country-girl creeping slyly 
 to bed to her cousin Boaz. Pretty stuff indeed to" be called 
 the word of God I It is, however, one of the best books in 
 the Bible, for it is free from murder and rapine. 
 
 I come next to the two books of Samuel, and to show that 
 those books were not written by Samuel, nor till a great 
 length of time after the death of Samuel ; and that they are, 
 like all the former books, anonymous and without authority. 
 
 To be convinced that these books have been written much
 
 P-AJtT n.] THE AGE OF REASON. 81 
 
 later than the time of Samuel, and, consequently, not by him, 
 it is only necessary to read the account which the writer gives 
 of Saul going to seek his father's asses, and of his interview 
 with Samuel, of whom Saul went to inquire about those lost 
 asses, as foolish people now-a-days go to a conjurer to inquire 
 after lost things, 
 
 The writer, in relating this story of Saul, Samuel and the 
 asses, does not tell it as a thing that had just then happened, 
 but as an ancient story in the time this writer lived ; for he 
 tells it in the language or terms used at the time that /Sam- 
 uel lived, which obliges the writer to explain the story in the 
 terms or language used in the time the writer lived. 
 
 Samuel, in the account given of him, in the first of those 
 books, chap, ix., is called the seer ; and it is by this term that 
 Saul inquires after him, ver. 11, " And as they (Saul and his 
 servant) went up the hill to the city, they found young 
 maidens going out to draw water ; and they said unto them, 
 Is the seer here /'' Saul then went according to the direc- 
 tion of these maidens, and met Samuel without knowing him, 
 and said unto him, ver. 18, " Tell me, I pray thee, where the 
 seer's houte is f and Samuel answered Saul and said, lorn the 
 
 eer" 
 
 As the writer of the book of Samuel relates these ques- 
 tions and answers, in the language or manner of speaking 
 used in the time they are said to have been spoken ; and as 
 that manner of speaking was out of use when this author 
 wrote, he found it necessary, in order to make the story 
 understood, to explain the terms in which these questions 
 and answers are spoken ; and he does this in the 9th verse, 
 where he says, "before-time, in Israel, when a man went 
 to inquire of God, thus he spake, Come, let us go to the 
 seer ; for he that is now called a prophet, was before-time 
 called a seer.*' This proves, as I have before said, that this 
 story of Saul, Samuel and the asses, was an ancient story at 
 the time the book of Samuel was written, and consequently 
 Samuel did not write it, and that that book was without 
 authenticity. 
 
 But if we go further into those books the evidence is still 
 more positive that Samuel is not the writer of them : for 
 they relate things that did not happen till several years after 
 the death of Samuel. Samuel died before Saul ; for the 1st
 
 82 THE AGE OF REASON. [PABT n. 
 
 Samuel, chap, xxviii. tells, that Saul, and the witch of Endor 
 conjured Samuel up after he was dead ; yet the history of 
 the matters contained in those books is extended through 
 the remaining part of Saul's life, and to the latter end of the 
 life of David, who succeeded Saul. The account of the 
 death and burial of Samuel (a thing which he could not 
 write himself) ia related in the 25th chapter of the first book 
 of Samuel ; and the chronology affixed to this chapter makes 
 this to be 1060 years before Christ ; yet the history of this 
 firtt book is bought down to 1U50 years before Christ ; that 
 is, till the death of Saul, which was not till four years aftei 
 the death of Samuel. 
 
 The second book of Samuel begins with an account oi 
 things that did not happen till four years after Samuel was 
 dead ; for it begins with the reign of David, who suc- 
 ceeded Saul, and it goes on to the end of David's reign, which 
 was forty-three years after the death of Samuel ; and, there- 
 fore, the books are in themselves positive evidence that they 
 were not written by Samuel. 
 
 I have now gone through all the books in the first part of 
 the Bible, to which the names of persons are affixed, as be- 
 ing the authors of those book, and which the church, styling 
 itself the Christian church, have imposed upon the world as 
 the writings of Moses, Joshua and Samuel ; and I have de- 
 tected and proved the falsehood of this imposition. And 
 now, ye priests, of every description, who have preached and 
 written against the former part of the Age of Reason, what 
 have ye to say? Will ye, with all this mass of evidence 
 against you, and staring you in the face, still have the assur- 
 ance to march into your pulpits, and continue to impose 
 these books on your congregations, as the works of inspired 
 penmen^ and the word of God, when it is as evident as dem- 
 onstration can make truth appear, that the persons who, ye 
 say, are the authors, are not the authors, and that ye know 
 not who the authors are? What shadow of pretence have ye 
 now to produce for continuing the blasphemous fraud? 
 What have ye still to offer against the pure and moral relig- 
 ion of Deism, in support of your system of falsehood, idola- 
 try and pretended revelation? Had the cruel and murder- 
 ous orders, with which the Bible is filled, and the number- 
 less torturing executions of men, women, and children, in 
 consequence of those orders, been ascribed to some friend,
 
 FAJKT II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 88 
 
 whose memory you revered, you would have glowed with 
 satisfaction at detecting the falsehood of the charge, and 
 gloried in defending his injured fame. It is because ye are 
 sunk in the cruelty of superstition, or feel no interest in the 
 honor of your Creator, that ye listen to the horrid tales of 
 the Bible, or hear them with callous indifference. The evi- 
 dence I have produced, and shall still produce in the course 
 of this work, to prove that the Bible is without authority, 
 will, whilst it wounds the stubbornness of a priest, relieve 
 and tranquilize the minds of millions ; it will free them from 
 all those hard thoughts of the Almighty which priestcraft 
 and the Bible had infused into their minds, and which stood 
 in everlasting opposition to all their ideas of his moral jus- 
 tice and benevolence. 
 
 I come now to the two books of Kings, and the two booki 
 of Chronicles. Those books are altogether historical, and 
 are chiefly confined to the lives and actions of the Jewish 
 kings, who in general were a parcel of rascals; but these are 
 matters with which we have no more concern, than we have 
 with the Roman emperors, or Homer's account of the Trojan 
 war. Besides which, as those works are anonymous, and as 
 we know nothing of the writer, or of his character, it is im- 
 possible for us to know what degree of credit to give to the 
 matters related therein. Like all other ancient histories, 
 they appear to be a jumble of fable and lact, and of probable 
 and of improbable things; but which, distance r f .OI.Q and 
 place, and change of circumstances in the world, have ren- 
 dered obsolete and uninteresting. 
 
 The chief use I shall make of those books will be that of 
 comparing them with each other, and with other parts of the 
 Bible, to show the confusion, contradiction and cruelty in 
 this pretended word of God. 
 
 The first book of lluigs begins with the reign of Solomon, 
 which, according to the Bible chronology, was 1015 years be- 
 fore Christ; and the second book ends 588 years before Christ, 
 being a little after the reign of Zedekiah, whom Nebuchad- 
 nezzar, after taking Jerusalem and conquering the Jews, car- 
 ried captive to Babylon. The two books include a space of 
 427 years. 
 
 The two books of Chronicles are a history of the same 
 times, and, in general, of the same persons, by another 
 author; for it would be absurd to suppose that the same
 
 84 THE AGE OF REASON. [PABT II. 
 
 author wrote the history twice over. The first book of 
 Chronicles (after Driving the genealogy from Adam to Saul, 
 which takes up the first nine chapters) begins with the reign 
 of David; and the last book ends as in the last book of 
 Kings, soon after the reigu of Zedekiah, about 588 years 
 before Christ. The two last verses of the last chapter bring 
 the history 52 years more forward, that is, to 536. But these 
 verses do not belong to the book, as I shall show when I 
 come to speak of the book of Ezra. 
 
 The two books of Kings, besides the history of Saul, 
 David and Solomon, who reigned over all Israel, contain an 
 abstract of the lives of seventeen kings and one queen, who 
 are styled Kings of Judah, and of nineteen, who are styled 
 Kings of Israel; for the Jewish nation, immediately on the 
 death of Solomon, split into two parties, who chose separate 
 kings, and who carried on most rancorous wars against each 
 other. 
 
 Those two books are little more than a hi story of assassina- 
 tions, treachery and wars. The cruelties that the Jews had 
 accustomed themselves to practice on the Canaanites, whose 
 country they had savagely invaded under a pretended 
 gift from God, they afterwards practiced as furiously on 
 each other. Scarcely half their kings died a natural death, 
 and, in some instances, whole families were destroyed to 
 secure possession to the successor, who, after a few years, 
 and Svji^cl'mes only a few months, or less, shared the 
 same fate. In the tenth chapter of the second book of 
 Kings an account is given of two baskets full of chil- 
 dren's heads, seventy in number, being exposed at the 
 entrance of the city; they were the children of Ahab, and 
 were murdered by the orders of Jehu, whom Elisha, the 
 pretended man of Goo, ^ad anointed to be king over 
 Israel, on purpose to commit this bloody deed, and assas- 
 sinate his predecessor. And in the account of the reign of 
 Manaham, one of the kings of Israel who had murdered 
 Shallum, who had reigned but one month, it is said, 
 Kings, chap. XV M ver. 16, that Manaham smote the city of 
 Tiphsah, because they opened not the city to him, and 
 all the, women that were therein that were with child they 
 ripped up. 
 
 Could we permit ourselves to suppose that the Almighty 
 would distinguish any nation of people- bv the name of Hit
 
 PA.BT II.J THE AOK OK KEASOH. 86 
 
 chosen people, we must suppose that people to have been 
 an example to all the rest of the world of the purest piety 
 and humanity, and not such a nation of ruffians and cut- 
 throats as the ancient Jews were; a people who, corrupted 
 by and copying after such monsters and impostors as Moses 
 and Aaron, Joshua, Samuel and David, had distinguished 
 themselves above all others, on the face of the known earth, 
 for barbarity and wickedness. If we will not stubbornly 
 shut our eyes and steel our hearts, it is impossible not to 
 see, in spite of all that long-established superstition im- 
 poses upon the mind, that that flattering appellation of 
 Sis chosen people is no other than a lie the priests and 
 leaders of the Jews had invented, to cover the baseness of 
 their own characters, and which Christian priests, some- 
 times as corrupt and often as cruel, have professed to 
 believe. 
 
 The two books of Chronicles are a repetition of the same 
 crimes; but the history is broken in several places by the 
 author leaving out the reign of some of their kings; and 
 in this, as well as in that of Kings, there is such a frequent 
 transition from kings of Judah to kings of Israel, and from 
 kings of Israel to kings of Judah, that the narrative is 
 obscure in the reading. In the same book the history some- 
 times contradicts itself ; for example, in the second book of 
 Kings, chap, i., ver. 8, we are told, but in rather ambiguous 
 terms, that, after the death of Ahaziah, King of Israel, 
 Jehoram, or Joram, (who was of the house of Ahab,) 
 reigned in his stead in the second year of Jehoram, or 
 Joram, son of Jehoshaphat, King of Judah; and in chap, 
 viii., ver. 16, of the same book it is said, and in the fifth 
 year of Joram, the son of Ahab, king of Israel, Jehosha- 
 phat being then king of Judah, began to reign ; that is, one 
 chapter says Joram of Judah began to reign in the second 
 year of Joram of Israel; and the other chapter says, that 
 Joram of Israel began to reign in the fifth year of Joram of 
 Judah. 
 
 Several of the most extraordinary matters related in one 
 history, as having happened during the reign of such and 
 such of their kings, are not to be found in the other, in 
 relating the reign of the same king; for example, the two 
 first rival kings, after the death of Solomon, were Rehoboam 
 and Jeroboam; and in 1 Kings, chap. xii. and xiii., an
 
 86 THJC AOK OF KKA80M. [PAST EL 
 
 account is given of Jeroboam making an offering of burnt 
 incense, and that a man who is there called a man of God, 
 cried out against the altar, chap. xiii. ver. 2: "O altar, altar, 
 thus saith the Lord: Behold, a child shall be born to the 
 house of David, Josiah by name, and upon thee shall he offer 
 the priests of the high places, and burn incense upon thee, 
 and men's bones shall be burnt upon thee." Verse 4: "And 
 it came to pass, when king Jeroboam heard the saying of the 
 man of God, which had cried against the altar in Bethel, that 
 he put forth his hand from the altar, saying, Lay hold on 
 him. And his hand, which he put out against him, dried up, so 
 that he could not pull it again to him" 
 
 One would think that such an extraordinary case as this, 
 (which is spoken of as a judgment,) happening to the chief 
 of one of the parties, and that at the first moment of the 
 separation of the Israelites into two nations, would, if it had 
 been true, have been recorded in both histories. But though 
 men, in latter times, have believed all that the prophets have 
 said unto them, it does not appear these prophets or histori- 
 ans believed each other; they knew each other too well. 
 
 A long account also is given in Kings about Elijah. It 
 runs through several chapters, and concludes with telling, 2 
 Kings, chap. ii. ver. 11: "And it came to pass as they 
 (Elijah and Elisha) still went on, and talked, that, behold, 
 there appeared a chariot of fire and horses of fire, and 
 parted them both asunder, and Elijah went up by a whirlwind 
 into heaven" Hum! this the author of Chronicles, miracu- 
 lous as the story is, makes no mention of, though he men- 
 tions Elijah by name; neither does he say anything of the 
 story related in the second chapter of the same book of 
 Kings, of a parcel of children calling Elisha bald head, bald 
 head; and that this man of God, ver. 24, " turned back, and 
 looked upon them, and cursed them in the name of the Lord; 
 and there came forth two she bears out of the wood, and 
 tore forty and two children of them." He also passes over 
 in silence the story told, 2 Kings, chap, xiii., that when they 
 were burying a man in the sepulchre, where Elisha had been 
 buried, it happened that the dead man, as they were 
 letting him down, (ver. 21,) " touched the bones of Elisha, 
 and he (the dead man) revived, and stood upon his feet" 
 The story does not tell us whether they buried the man 
 notwithstanding he revived and stood upon his feet, or drew
 
 i-AKT Il.J TiiK AGK OF KliAHON. 87 
 
 him up again. Upon all these stories the writer of Chroni- 
 cles is as silent as any writer of the present day, who did 
 not choose to be accused of lying, or at least of romancing, 
 would be about stories of the same kind. 
 
 But, however these two historians may differ from each 
 other, with respect to the tales related by either, they are 
 silent alike with respect to those men styled prophets, whose 
 writings fill up the latter part of the Bible, Isaiah, who 
 lived in the time of Hezekiah, is mentioned in Kings, and 
 again in Chronicles, when these historians are speaking of 
 that reign; but except in one or two instances at most, and 
 those very slightly, none of the rest are so much as spoken 
 of, or even hinted at; though, according to the Bible chro- 
 nology, they lived within the time those histories were 
 written; some of them long before. If those prophets, as 
 they are called, were men of such importance in then- day, as 
 the compilers of the Bible, and priests and commentators 
 have since represented them to be, how can it be accounted 
 for, that not one of these histories should say anything about 
 them? 
 
 The history in the books of Kings and of Chronicles is 
 brought forward, as I have already said, to the year 588 
 before Christ; it will, therefore, be proper to examine which 
 of these prophets lived before that period. 
 
 Here follows a table of all the prophets, with the times in 
 which they lived before Christ, according to the chronology 
 affixed to the first chapter of each of the books of the propn- 
 ets; and also of the number of years they lived before the 
 books of Kings and Chronicles were written. 
 
 This table is either not very honorable for the Bible his- 
 torians, or not very honorable for the Bible prophets ; and I 
 leave to priests and commentators, who are very learned in 
 little things, to settle the point of etiquette between the two ; 
 and to assign a reason, why the authors of Kings and Chron- 
 icles have treated those prophets, whom in the former part 
 of the Age of Reason, I have considered as poets, with as 
 much degrading silence as any historian of the present day 
 would treat Peter Pindar. 
 
 I have one observation more to make on the Book of 
 Chronicles ; after which I shall pasa on to review the remain- 
 ing books of the Bible.
 
 88 
 
 THE AGK OF REASON. 
 
 [PAST n. 
 
 TabU qf the Prophets, with the time in which they lived before 
 Christ, and also before the books of Kings and Chronicle* 
 were written. 
 
 IUn*. 
 
 Year* ; Ym. before 
 before Kings and 
 ChrteL Chronicles. 
 
 OasiHTATiom. 
 
 Ualah 
 
 70 
 
 in 
 
 mentioned. 
 
 JeremUk 
 
 629 
 
 41 
 
 I mentioned only in the 
 ( last chap, of Cnroo. 
 
 Kitklel - 
 
 596 
 
 7 
 
 not mentioned. 
 
 Daniel 
 
 607 
 
 19 
 
 not mentioned. 
 
 J H i" 
 
 785 
 800 
 
 97 
 212 
 
 not mentioned, 
 not mentioned. 
 
 AJMM 
 
 789 
 
 199 
 
 not mentioned. 
 
 ObadUh 
 
 789 
 
 199 
 
 not men tin ed. 
 
 Jonah 
 
 
 274 
 
 see the note* 
 
 Uteri 
 
 7M) 
 
 168 
 
 not mentioned. 
 
 hah am 
 
 713 
 
 125 
 
 not mentioned. 
 
 Hhbskknk 
 
 no 
 
 38 
 
 not mentioned. 
 
 Zephaniah 
 
 680 
 
 42 
 
 not mentioned. 
 
 Malachl f 7e * r 588 
 
 
 
 
 IB 2 Kings, chap. xlv. ver. 25, the name of Jonah Is mentioned on account 
 of the restoration of a tract of land by Jeroboam ; bnt nothing farther is Raid 
 of him. uor is any allusion made to the book of Jonah, nor to MB expedition to 
 Nineveh, nor to his encounter with the whale. 
 
 In ray obsvervations on the Book of Genesis, I have 
 quoted a passage from the 36th chapter, verse 31, which 
 evidently refers to a time after that kings began to reign 
 over the children of Israel ; and I have shown that as this 
 verse is verbatim the same as in Chronicles, chap, i., verse 
 43, where it stands consistently with the order of history, 
 which in Genesis it does not, that the verse in Genesis, and 
 a great part of the 36th chapter, have been taken from Chron- 
 icles ; and that the book of Genesis, though it is placed first 
 in the Bible and ascribed to Moses, has been manufactured 
 by some unknown person, after the Book of Chronicles was 
 written, which was not until at least eight hundred and sixty 
 years after the time of Moses. 
 
 The evidence I proceed by to substantiate this i regular, 
 and has in it but two stages. First, as I have already stated, 
 that the passage in Genesis refers itself for time to Chron- 
 icles ; secondly, that the book of Chronicles, to which thia 
 passage refers itself, was not begun to be written until at 
 least eight hundred and sixty years after the time of Moses. 
 To prove this, we have only to look into the thirteenth ver
 
 PAJtT II.J THE AGE OF REA8OM. 89 
 
 of the third chapter of the first book of Chronicles, where 
 the writer, in giving the genealogy of the descendants of 
 David, mentions Zedekiah ; and it was in the time of Zede- 
 kiah, that Nebuchadnezzar conquered Jerusalem, 588 years 
 before Christ, and consequently more than 860 years after 
 Moses. Those who have superstitiously boasted of the anti- 
 quity of the Bible, and particularly of the books ascribed to 
 Moses, have done it without examination, and without any 
 authority than that of one credulous man telling it to another ; 
 for, so far as historical and chronological evidence applies, the 
 very first book in the Bible is not so ancient as the book of 
 Homer, by more than three hundred years, and is about the 
 same age with ^Esop's Fables. 
 
 I am not contending for the morality of Homer; on the 
 contrary, I think it a book of false glory ; tending to inspire 
 immoral and mischievous notions of honor; and with respect 
 to ^Esop, though the moral is in general just, the fable is 
 often cruel; and the cruelty of the fable does more injury to 
 the heart, especially in a child, than the moral does good to 
 the judgment. 
 
 Having now dismissed Kings and Chronicles, I come to 
 the next in course, the book of Ezra. 
 
 As one proof, among others, I shall produce, to show 
 the disorder in which this pretended word of God, the 
 Bible, has been put together, and the uncertainty of who 
 the authors were, we have only to look at the three first 
 verses iu Ezra, and the two last in Chronicles; for by what 
 kind of cutting and shuffling has it been that the three 
 first verses in Ezra should be the two last verses in Chron- 
 icles, or that the two last in Chronicles should be the three 
 first in Ezra? Either the authors did not know their own 
 works, or the compilers did not know the authors. 
 
 Two latt Vents of Chronielet. Three first Verses of Eera. 
 
 Ver. 22. Now in the first year Ver. 1. Now in the first year 
 
 of Cyrus, king of Persia, that the of Cyrus, kin? of Persia, that the 
 
 word of the Lord, spoken by the word of the Lord, by the mouth 
 
 mouth of Jeremiah, might be of Jeremiah, might be fulfilled, 
 
 accomplished, the Lord stirred the Lord stirred up the spirit of 
 
 op the spirit of Cyrus, king of Cyrus, king of Persia, that he 
 
 Persia, that he made a procla- made a proclamation throughout 
 
 mation throughout all his king- all his kingdom, and put it also 
 
 dom, and put it also in writing, In writing, saying, 
 
 SL Thus saith Cyrua, king of
 
 90 TH AGE OF REASON. [PART IL 
 
 23. Thus saith Cyrus, king of Persia, The Lord God of heaven 
 Persia, all the kingdoms of the hath given me all the kingdoms 
 earth hath the Lord God of of the earth ; and he hath charg- 
 heaven given me; and he hath ed me to build him an house at 
 charged me to build him an Jerusalem, which is in Judah. 
 house in Jerusalem which is in 3. Who is there among you 
 Judah. Who is there among of all his people? his God b 
 you of his people? the Lord his with him, and let him go up, to 
 God be with him, and let him go Jerusalem, which is in JudaJi, 
 up. and build the house of the Lord 
 
 God of Israel (he is the God) which 
 
 is in Jerusalem. 
 
 The last Terse in Chronicles is broken abruptly, and ends 
 in the middle of the phrase with the word up, without signi- 
 fying to what place. This abrupt break, and the appearance 
 of the same verses in the different books, show, as I have 
 already said, the disorder and ignorance in which the Bible 
 has been put together, and that the compilers of it had no 
 authority for what they were doing, nor we any authority for 
 believing what they have done.* 
 
 The only thing that has any appearance of certainty in the 
 book of Ezra, is the time in which it was written, which was 
 
 I observed, an I passed along, several broken and senselws passages In the 
 Bible, without thinking them of consequence enough to be introduced iti the body 
 of the work; such as that, 1 Samuel, chap. xiii. ver. 1, where it is said, "Saul 
 reigned one year; and when he had reigned two years over Israel, Saul chow 
 him three thousand men, 11 etc. The firct part of the venue, that Saul reigned one 
 year has no sense, since it does not tell as what Saul did, nor say anything of 
 what happened at the end of that one year; and it IK, boi <!<*, mere absurdity to 
 aav he reigned one year, when the very next phrase way* he had reigned two; for 
 If be had reigned two, it was impossible not to have reigned one. 
 
 Another instance occurs in Joshua, chap. v. where the writer tdls us a story of 
 an angel (for nuch the table of contents at the head of the chapter calls him) ap- 
 pearing nnto Joshua: and the etory euds abruptly, and without any conclusion. 
 The story is an follows: Ver. 18, "And it came to pass, when Joshua was by 
 Jericho, that he lifted up his eyes and looked, and behola there stood a man over 
 against him with his sword drawn In his hand; and Joshua went unto him and 
 said unto him, An thon for us, or for our adversaries T' Vene 14, " And he said, 
 Nay; but as the captain of the hosts of our Lord am I now come. And Joshua 
 fell on his lac to the earth, and did worship and eaid nnto him. What saith my 
 Lord unto hii servant T" Verse 16, "And the captuln of the Lord's host said 
 onto Joshua, Loose thy shoe from off thy foot; for the place whereon thon stand- 
 ethlsholy. And Joshna did so." And what then; nothing, for here the story 
 ends, and the chapter too. 
 
 Hither this story Is broken off in the middle, or ills a itory told by some Jewish 
 humorist. In ridicule of Joshua's pretended mission from God; and the compiler! 
 of the Bible, not perceiving the design of the story, have told it as a serious mat- 
 ter. As a story of humor and ridicule, It has H great deal of point, for it pomponB- 
 Iv Introduces an an-rel In the fl<jnre of a mnn. with a drawn sword in hie hand, be- 
 fore whom JOB ua falls on his face to the earth, and worships, (which IH contrary 
 to their s. conil commandment;) and then, this muoi Important embassy from 
 heaven ends. In telling Joehua to pull off his shoe. It might a* well have told 
 htm to pull up his breeches. 
 
 It Is certain, however, that the Jews did not credit everything their leaden told 
 them, as appears from the cavalier manner In which tin v speak of Moses, when 
 be w. goDe Into the mount. " A* for this Moe," y they. " w wot not what if 
 Wcorn* t/hlm." Kxod chap, mil ver. L
 
 PABT II.] 
 
 THE AGE OF SEASON. 
 
 91 
 
 immediately after the return of the Jews from the Babylon- 
 ian captivity, about 536 years before Christ. Ezra (who, 
 according to the Jewish commentators, is the same person 
 as is called Esdras in the Apocrypha) was one of the per- 
 sons who returned, and who, it is probable, wrote the account 
 of that affair. Nehemiah, whose book follows next to Ezra, 
 was another of the returned persons; and who, it is also 
 probable, wrote the account of the same affair, in the book 
 that bears his name. But those accounts are nothing to us, 
 nor to any other persons, unless it be to the Jews, as a part 
 of the history of their nation; and there is just as much of 
 the word of God in those books as there is in any of the his- 
 tories of France, or Rapin's history of England, or the history 
 of any other country. 
 
 But even in matters of historical record, neither of those 
 writers are to be depended upon. In the second chapter 
 of Ezra, the writer gives a list of the tribes and families, and 
 of the precise number of souls of each that returned from 
 Babylon to Jerusalem; and this enrollment of the persons so 
 returned appears to have been one of the principal objects 
 for writing the book, but in this there is an error that destroys 
 the intention of the undertaking. 
 
 The writer begins his enrolment in the following man- 
 ner, chap, ii., ver. 3: "The children of Parosh, two thousand 
 one hundred seventy and four." Ver. 4: " The children of 
 Shephatiah, three hundred seventy and two." And in this 
 manner he proceeds through all the families; and in the 64th 
 verse he makes a total, and says, the whole congregation 
 together was forty and two thousand three hundred and 
 three score. 
 
 Chap. 11. 
 Verie. 8, 
 
 1,172 
 
 Bro't forward, 11,577 
 Ver. 13, 666 
 
 Bro't forward, 15,783 
 Vr. 23, 128 
 
 Bro't forw'd, 19.444 
 er. 83, 726 
 
 t 
 
 873 
 
 14, 
 
 t.056 
 
 2? 
 
 42 
 
 84, 345 
 
 ft, 
 
 775 
 
 15, 
 
 464 
 
 25, 
 
 743 
 
 85, 1,630 
 
 fc 
 
 8,812 
 1,254 
 
 a 
 
 08 
 823 
 
 2, 
 
 87, 
 
 621 
 122 
 
 86, 973 
 87, 1,053 
 
 8, 
 
 945 
 
 18, 
 
 112 
 
 28, 
 
 223 
 
 88| l|247 
 
 , 
 
 760 
 
 1, 
 
 823 
 
 *9, 
 
 52 
 
 U, 1,017 
 
 10, 
 
 643 
 
 20, 
 
 90 
 
 o, 
 
 Ifi6 
 
 4$ 74 
 
 11, 
 
 23 
 
 21, 
 
 It? 
 
 , 
 
 1,254 
 
 41, 128 
 
 1* 
 
 U2* 
 
 tt, 
 
 66 
 
 Mb 
 
 *> 
 
 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 b<K>ks 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<rree, is the skulking privacy of 
 that re-appearance; for whether it was in the recess of a 
 mountain in Galilee, or in a shut-up house in Jerusalem, it
 
 PART n.] THE AGK OF REASON. 129 
 
 was still skulking. To what cause then are we to assign this 
 kulkiug? On the one hand, it is directly repugnant to the 
 supposed or pretended end that of convincing the world 
 that Christ was risen; and, on the other hand, to nave assert- 
 ed the publicity of it, would have exposed the writers of 
 those books to public detection, and, therefore, they have 
 been under the necessity of making it a private affair. 
 
 As to the account of Christ being seen by more than five 
 hundred at once, it is Paul only who says it, and not the five 
 hundred who say it for themselves. It is, therefore, the tes- 
 timony of but one man, and that too of a man, who did not, 
 according to the same account, believe a word of the matter 
 himself, at the time it is said to have happened. His evi- 
 dence, supposing him to have been the writer of the 15th 
 chapter of Corinthians, where this account is given, is like 
 that of a man who conies into a court of justice to swear, 
 that what he had sworn before is false. A man may often 
 see reason, and he has, too, always the right of changing 
 his opinion; but this liberty does not extend to matters o/ 
 fact. 
 
 I now come to the last scene, that of the ascension into 
 heaven. Here all fear of the Jews, and of everything else 
 must necessarily have been out of the question: it was that 
 which, if true, was to seal the whole; and upon which the 
 reality of the future mission of the disciples was to rest for 
 proof. Words, whether declarations or promises, that passed 
 in private, either in the recess of a mountain in Galilee, or in . 
 a shut-up house in Jerusalem, even supposing them to have 
 been spoken, could not be evidence in public; it was there- 
 fore necessary that this last scene should preclude the possi- 
 bility of denial and dispute; and that it should be, as I have 
 stated in the former part of the Age of Reason, as publio 
 and as visible as the sun at noon-day: at least it ought to 
 have been as publio as the crucifixion is reported to have 
 been. But to come to the point. 
 
 In the first place, the writer of the book of Matthew does 
 not say a syllable about it; neither does the writer of the 
 book of John. This being the case, is it possible to suppose 
 that those writers, who affect to be even minute in other 
 matters, would have been silent upon this, had it been true? 
 The writer of the book of Mark passes it off in a careless, 
 slovenly manner, with a am^le d*u*h of the pen, as if he was
 
 ISO THE AGE OF REASON. [PART H. 
 
 tired of romancing, or ashamed of the story. So also does 
 the writer of Luke. And even between these two, there IB 
 not an apparent agreement, as to the place where this final 
 parting is said to nave been. 
 
 The book of Mark says that Christ appeared to the eleven 
 as they sat at meat; alluding to the meeting of the eleven 
 at Jerusalem: he then states the conversation that he says 
 passed at that meeting; and immediately after says, (as a 
 school-boy would finish a dull story,) " So then, after the 
 Lord had spoken unto them, he was received up into heaven 
 and sat on the right hand of God." But the writer of Luke 
 says, that the ascension was from Bethany; that he (Christ) 
 led them out as far <u Bethany, and was parted from them 
 there, and wot carried up into heaven. So also was Mahomet: 
 and, as to Moses, the apostle Jude says, ver. 9, That Michael 
 and ihe devi? disputed about his body. While we believe 
 such fables as these, or either of them, we believe unworthily 
 of the Almighty. 
 
 I have now gone through the examination of the four 
 books ascribed to Matthew, Mark, Luke and John; and when 
 it is considered that the whole space of time from the cruci- 
 fixion to what is called the ascension, is but a few days, 
 apparently not more than three or four, and that all the 
 circumstances are said to have happened nearly about the 
 same spot, Jerusalem; it is, I believe, impossible to find, in 
 any story upon record, so many and such glaring absurdities, 
 contradictions, and falsehoods, as are in those books. They 
 are more numerous and striking than I had any expectation 
 of finding, when I began this examination, and far more so 
 than I had any idea of when I wrote the former part of the 
 Age of Reason. I had then neither Bible nor Testament to 
 refer to, nor could I procure any. My own situation, even 
 as to existence, was oecoming every day more precarious; 
 and as I was willing to leave something behind me upon the 
 subject, I was obliged to be quick and concise. The quota- 
 tions I then made were from memory only, but they are 
 correct; and the opinions I have advanced in that work are 
 the effect of the most clear and long-established conviction 
 that the Bible and the Testament are impositions upon the 
 world, that the fall of TOBP., the account of Jesus Christ being 
 the Son of God, and of his dying to appease the wrath of 
 God, and of salvation by that strange means, are all fabulous
 
 PART II.] THK AOK OF BKASON. 181 
 
 inventions, dishonorable to the wisdom and power of the 
 Almighty that the only true religion is Deism, by which I 
 then meant, and now mean, the belief of one God, and an 
 imitation of his moral character, or the practice of what are 
 called moral virtues and that it was upon this only (so far 
 as religion is concerned) that I rested all my hopes of hap- 
 piness hereafter. So say I now and so help me God. 
 
 But to return to the subject. Though it is impossible, 
 at this distance of time, to ascertain as a fact who were the 
 writers of those four books (and this alone is sufficient to 
 hold them in doubt, and where we doubt we do not believe) 
 it is not difficult to ascertain negatively that they were not 
 written by the persons to whom they are ascribed. Th 
 contradictions in those books demonstrate two things: 
 
 First, that the writers cannot have been eye-witnesses and 
 ear-witnesses of the matters they relate, or they would have 
 related them without those contradictions ; and, conse- 
 quently, that the books have not been written by the per- 
 sons called apostles, who are supposed to have been witnesses 
 of this kind. 
 
 Secondly, that the writers, whoever they were, have not 
 acted in concerted imposition, but each writer separatelj 
 and individually for himself, and without the knowledge of 
 the other. 
 
 The same evidence that applies to prove the one, applies 
 equally to prove both cases ; that is, that the books were 
 not written by the men called apostles, and also that the^r 
 are not a concerted imposition. As to inspiration, it is 
 altogether out of the question; and we may as well attempt 
 to unite truth and falsehood, as inspiration and contradic- 
 tion. 
 
 If four men are eye-witnesses and ear- witnesses to a scene, 
 they will, without any concert between them, agree as to 
 time and place, when and where that scene happened. Their 
 individual knowledge of the thing, each one knowing it for 
 himself, renders concert totally unnecessary; the one will not 
 say it was in a mountain in the country, and the other at a 
 house in town: the one will not say it was at sun-rise, and 
 the other it was dark. For in whatever place it was, at 
 whatever time it was, they know it equally alike. 
 
 And, on the other hand, if four men concert a story, they 
 will make their separate relations of that story agree, and
 
 189 THE AGE OF REA8OH. [*ABT II. 
 
 corroborate with each other to support the whole. That 
 concert supplies the want of fact in the one case, as the 
 knowledge of the fact supersedes, in the other case, the 
 necessity of a concert. The same contradictions, therefore, 
 that prove there has been no concert, prove, also, that the 
 reporters had no knowledge of the fact, (or rather of that 
 which they relate as a fact,) and detect also the falsehood of 
 their reports. Those books, therefore, have neither been 
 written by the men called apostles, nor by impostors in con- 
 cert. How then have they been written? 
 
 I am not one of those who are fond of believing there ia 
 much of that which is called willful lying, or lying originally, 
 except in the case of men setting up to be prophets, as in 
 the Old Testament; for prophesying is lying professionally. 
 In almost all other cases it is not difficult to discover the 
 progress by which even simple supposition, with the aid of 
 credulity, will, in time, grow into a lie, and at last be told 
 as a fact; and, whenever we can find a charitable reason for 
 a thing of this kind, we ought not to indulge a severe one. 
 
 The story of Jesus Christ appearing after he was dead, is 
 the story of an apparition, such as timid imaginations can 
 always create in vision, and credulity believe. Stories of 
 this kind had been told of the assassination of Julius Caesar, 
 not many years before, and they generally have their origin 
 in violent deaths, or in the execution of innocent persons. 
 In cases of this kind, compassion lends its aid, and benevo- 
 lently stretches the story. It goes on a little and a little 
 further, till it becomes a most certain truth. Once start a 
 ghost, and credulity fills up the history of its life, and assigns 
 the cause of its appearance 1 one tells it one way, another 
 another way, till there are as many stories about the ghost, 
 and about the proprietor of the ghost, as there are about 
 Jesus Christ in these four books. 
 
 The story of the appearance of Jesus Christ is told with 
 that strange mixture of the natural and impossible that dis- 
 tinguishes legendary tale from fact. He is represented as 
 suddenly coming in and going out when the doors are shut, 
 and of vanishing out of sight, and appearing again, as one 
 would conceive of an unsubstantial vision; then again he 
 is hungry, sits down to meat, and eats his supper. But 
 M those who tell stories of this kind never provide for all 
 the oases, no it is here; they have told us, that when he
 
 PART n.] THE AGB OF SEASON. 135 
 
 he left his grave-clothes behind him; but they have forgot- 
 ten to provide other clothes for him to appear in after- 
 wards, or tell to us what he did with them when he ascended, 
 whether he stripped all off, or went up clothes and all. In 
 the case of Elijah, they have been careful enough to make 
 him throw down his mantle; how it happened not to be 
 burnt in the chariot of fire they also have not told us. 
 But, as imagination supplies all deficiencies of this kind, 
 we may suppose, if we please, that it was made of salaman- 
 der's wool. 
 
 Those who are not much acquainted with ecclesiastical 
 history may suppose that the book called the New Testa- 
 ment has existed ever since the time of Jesus Christ, as they 
 suppose that the books ascribed to Moses have existed ever 
 since the time of Moses. But the fact is historically other- 
 wise; there was no such book as the New Testament till 
 more than three hundred years after the time that Christ i 
 said to have lived. 
 
 At what time the books ascribed to Matthew, Mark, Luke 
 and John began to appear is altogether a matter of uncer- 
 tainty. There- is not the least shadow of evidence of who 
 the persons were that wrote them, nor at what time they 
 were written; and they might as well have been called by 
 the names of any of the other supposed apostles as by the 
 names they are now called. The originals are not in the 
 possession of any Christian Church existing, any more than 
 the two tables of stone written on, they pretend, by the 
 finger of God, upon Mount Sinai, and given to Moses, are 
 in the possession of the Jews. And even if they were, there 
 is no possibility of proving the handwriting in either case. 
 At the time those books were written there was no print- 
 ing, and consequently there could be no publication, other- 
 wise than by written copies, which any man might make or 
 alter at pleasure, and call them originals. Can we suppose 
 it is consistent with the wisdom of the Almighty to commit 
 himself and his will to man, upon such precarious means u 
 these, or that it is consistent we should pin our faith upon 
 such uncertainties? We cannot make nor alter, nor even 
 imitate, so much as one blade of grass that he has made, 
 and yet we can make or alter words of God as easily as 
 words of man.* 
 
 The former part of the Age of Rf.nunn has not been published two yean, to4 
 MMM U jr<tr u ftxprauian In It thut ! not tnlua The erpreacion \m: Tl* fe*A
 
 184 THK AOB OF BEA8ON. [PART n. 
 
 About three hundred and fifty years after the time that 
 Christ is said to have lived, several writings of the kind I 
 am speaking of were scattered in the hands of divers indi- 
 viduals; and, as the church had begun to form itself into an 
 hierarchy, or church government, with temporal powers, it 
 set itself about collecting them into a code, as we now see 
 them, called The New Testament. They decided by vote, 
 as I have before said in the former part of the Age of Reason, 
 which of those writings, out of the collection they had made, 
 should be the word of God, and which should not. The Rab- 
 bins of the Jews had decided, by vote, upon the books of the 
 Bible before. 
 
 As the object of the church, as is the case in all national 
 establishments of churches, was power and revenue, and 
 terror the means it used, it is consistent to suppose, that 
 the most miraculous and wonderful of the writings they 
 had collected stood the best chance of being voted. And as 
 to the authenticity of the books, the vote stands in the place 
 qf it ; for it can be traced no higher. 
 
 Disputes, however, ran high among the people then calling 
 themselves Christians; not only as to points of doctrine, but 
 as to the authenticity of the books. In the contest between 
 the persons called St. Augustine and Fauste, about the year 
 400, the hitter says, The books called the Evangelists have 
 been composed long after the times of the apostles, by some 
 obscure men, who, fearing that the world would not give 
 credit to their relation of matters of which they could not 
 be informed, have published them under the names of the 
 apostles; and which ate so full of sottishness and discord- 
 ant relations, that there is neither agreement nor connection 
 between them." 
 
 And in another place, adressing himself to the advocates 
 of those books, as being the word of God, he says, " It is 
 thus that your predecessors have inserted in the scriptures 
 of our Lord, many things, which, though they carry his name, 
 
 qf Lvk wot carried by a majority of ont voice only. It may be trne, but it U 
 not I that have said it. Some person who might know the circumstance. hM 
 added It in a note at the bottom of the page of some of the editions, printed either 
 in England or in America; and the printers, after that, have erected it into th 
 body of the work, and made me the author of it. If this has happened within 
 ouch a short space of time, notwithstanding the aid of printing, which prevent* 
 the alteration of copies individually, what may not have happened in much 
 greater length of time, when there was no printing, and when nny man who could 
 write could make a written copy and call ft an original, by Matthew, Mark, Luk
 
 PART II.J THB AOK OF SEASON. 185 
 
 agree not with his doctrines. This is not surprising, since 
 that toe have often proved that these things have not been 
 written by himself, nor by his apostles, but that for the 
 greatest part they are founded upon tales, upon vague reports, 
 and put together by I know not what, half Jews, with but 
 little agreement between them; and which they have neverthe- 
 less published under the names of the apostles of our Lord, 
 and have thus attributed to them their own errors and their 
 lies?* 
 
 The reader will see by these extracts, that the authen- 
 ticity of the books of the New Testament was denied, and 
 the books treated as tales, forgeries, and lies, at the time 
 they were voted to be the word of God. But the interest of 
 the church, with .the asistance of the faggot, bore down the 
 opposition, and at last suppressed all investigation. Miracles 
 followed upon miracles, if we will believe them, and men were 
 taught to say they believed, whether they believed or not. 
 But (by way of throwing in a thought) the French Revolu- 
 tion has excommunicated the churcn from the power of 
 working miracles; she has not been able, with the assistance 
 of all her saints, to work one miracle since the revolution 
 began; and as she never stood in greater need than now, we 
 may, without the aid of divination, conclude that all her 
 former miracles were tricks and lies.f 
 
 When we consider the lapse of more than three hundred 
 
 I have taken these two extract* from Bonlanger' Life of Paul, written la 
 French; Bonlanger has quoted them from the writing! of Augustine against 
 Fauste, to which he refers. 
 
 t Bonlanger, In hla life of Paul, ha* collected from the ecclesiastical histories, 
 and the writings of the fathers, as they are called, several matters which show 
 the opinions that prevailed among the different sects of Christians, at the time 
 the Testament, as we now see it, was voted to be the word of God. The following 
 extracts are fi om the second chapter of that work : 
 
 "The Marcionists, (a Christian sect,) assured that the evangelists were filled 
 with falsities. The Manlchaens, who formed a very numerous sect at the com- 
 mencement of Christianity, rejected as false, all the New Testament ; and 
 howed other writings quite different that they gave for authentic. The Corinthi- 
 ans, like the Marciouists, admitted not the Acts of the Apostles. The Kncra- 
 tttea, and the Sevenians, adopted neither the Acts nor the Epistles of Paul. 
 Chrysostom, in a homily which he made upon the Acts of the Apostles, says, that 
 in his time, about the year 400, many people kuew nothing either of the author or 
 of the book. St. Irene, who lived before that time, reports that the Valentinians, 
 like several other sects of the Christians, accused the scriptures with being 
 filled with imperfections, errors and contradictions. The Ebionites or Nazarenes, 
 who were the first Christians, rejected all the Epistles of Paul, and regarded 
 him as an impostor. They report, among other things, that he was originally a 
 Pagan, that he came to Jerusalem, where he lived some time; aud that naving a 
 mind to marry the danphter of the high priest, he caused himself to be circum- 
 cised; but that not being able to obtain her, he quarreled with the Jews, and 
 wrote against circumcision, and against the observation of the Sabbath, and 
 ct*in all th* legal ordinance* '
 
 136 THB AOB OF RKASOM. 
 
 yean intervening between the time that Christ is said to 
 hare lived and the time the New Testament was formed into 
 * book, we must see, even without the assistance of his- 
 torical evidence, the exceeding uncertainty there is of 
 its authenticity. The authenticity of the book of Homer, 
 BO far as regards the authorship, is much better established 
 than that of the New Testament, though Homer is a thou- 
 sand years the most ancient. It was only an exceeding good 
 poet that could have written the book of Homer, and, there- 
 fore, few men only could have attempted it; and a man capa- 
 ble of doing it would not have thrown away his own fame by 
 giving it to another. In like manner, there were but few 
 that could have composed Euclid's Elements, because none 
 but an exceeding good geometrician could have been the 
 author of that work. 
 
 But, with respect to the books of the New Testament, 
 particularly such parts as tell us of the resurrection and 
 ascension of Christ, any person who could tell a story of an 
 apparition, or of a man s walking^ could have made such 
 books, for the story is most wretchedly told. The chance, 
 therefore, of forgery in the Testament is millions to one 
 greater than in the case of Homer or Euclid. Of the nu- 
 merous priests or parsons of the present day, bishops and all, 
 every one of them can make a sermon, or translate a scrap 
 of Latin, especially if it has been translated a thousand 
 times before; but is there any amongst them that can write 
 poetry like Homer, or science like Euclid? The sum total of 
 a parson's learning, with very few exceptions, is a b a#, and 
 hiCy AOBC, hoc; and their knowledge of science is three times 
 one is three; and this is more than sufficient to have enabled 
 them, had they lived at the time, to have written all the 
 books of the New Testament. 
 
 As the opportunities for forgeries were greater, so, also, 
 was the inducement. A man could gain no advantage by 
 writing under the name of Homer or Euclid; if he could 
 write equal to them, it would be better that he wrote under 
 his own name; if inferior, he could not succeed. Pride 
 would prevent the former, and impossibility the latter. But 
 with respect to such books as compose the New Testament, 
 all the inducements were on the side of forgery. The best- 
 imagined history that could have been made, at the distance 
 of two or three hundred years after the time, could not have
 
 PAKT II.] THE AGE OF BJU.SON. 137 
 
 passed for an original under the name of the real writer; 
 the only chance of success lay in forgery, for the church 
 wanted pretense for its new doctrine, and truth and talents 
 were out of the question. 
 
 But as it is not uncommon (as before observed) to relate 
 stories of persons walking after they are dead, and of ghosts 
 and apparitions of such as have fallen by some violent or 
 extraordinary means; and as the people of that day were 
 in the habit of believing such things, and of the appearance 
 of angels, and also of devils, and of their getting into peo- 
 ple's insides, and shaking them like a fit of an ag.ue, and of 
 their being cast out again as if by an emetic (Mary Mag- 
 dalene, the book of Mark tells us, had brought up, or been 
 brought to bed of seven devils) it was nothing extraordi- 
 nary that some story of this kind should get abroad of the 
 person called Jesus Christ, and become afterwards the foun- 
 dation of the four books ascribed to Matthew, Mark, Luke 
 and John. Each writer told the tale as he heard it, or there- 
 abouts, and gave to his book the name of the saint or the 
 apostle whom tradition had given as the eye-witness. It is 
 only upon this ground that the contradiction in those books 
 can be accounted for; and if this be not the case, they are 
 downright impositions, lies and forgeries, without even the 
 apology of credulity. 
 
 That they have been written by a sort of half Jews, as the 
 foregoing quotations mention, is discernible enough. The 
 frequent references made to that chief assassin and impostor, 
 Moses, and the two men called prophets, establishes this 
 point; and, on the other hand, the church has complimented 
 the fraud by admitting the Bible and the Testament to reply 
 to each other. Between the Christian Jew and the Christian 
 Gentile, the thing called a prophecy, and the thing prophe- 
 sied; the type, and the thing typified; the sign, and the 
 thing signified, have been industriously rummaged up, and 
 fitted together like old locks and pick-lock keys. The 
 fatory foolishly enough told of Eve and the serpent, and 
 naturally enough as to the enmity between men and ser- 
 pents, (for the serpent always bites about the heel, because 
 it cannot reach higher; and the man always knocks the ser- 
 pent about the head, as the most effectual way to prevent iti 
 biting; 41 ) this foolish story, I say, has been made into a 
 
 , h* UiL.
 
 138 TUB AOK OF KEA3ON. [PART IX. 
 
 prophecy, a type, and a promise to begin with; and the lying 
 imposition of Isaiah to Aluiz, That a virgin shalt conceive 
 and bear a son, as a sign that Ahaz should conquer, when 
 the event was that he was defeated (as already noticed in the 
 observations on the book of Isaiah,) has been perverted, and 
 made to serve as a winder-up. 
 
 Jonah and the whale are almost made into a sign or a 
 type. Jonah is Jesus, and the whale is the grave; for it i 
 said, (and they have made Christ to say it of himself,) Matt,, 
 chap. xviL, ver. 40: " For as Jonah was three dayt and three 
 nights in the whale's belly, so shall the Son of man be three 
 dayt and three nights in the heart of the earth." But it 
 happens, awkwardly enough, that Christ, according to their 
 own account, was but one day and two nights in the grave; 
 about 36 hours instead of 72; that is, the Friday night, 
 the Saturday, and the Saturday night; for they say he 
 was up on the Sunday morning by sunrise, or before. But 
 as this fits quite as well as the bite and the kick in Genesis, 
 or the virgin and her son in Isaiah, it will pass in the lump 
 of orthodox things. Thus much for the historical part of 
 the Testament and its evidences. 
 
 Epistles of Paul. The epistles ascribed to Paul, being 
 fourteen in number, almost fill up the remaining part of the 
 Testament. Whether those epistles were written by the 
 person to whom they are ascribed, is a matter of no great 
 importance, since the writer, whoever he was, attempts to 
 prove his doctrine by argument. He does not pretend to 
 have been witness to any of the scenes told of the resur- 
 rection and the ascension, and he declares that he had not 
 believed them. 
 
 The story of his being struck to the ground as he was 
 journeying to Damascus, has nothing in it miraculous or 
 extraordinary; he escaped with life, and that is more than 
 many others have done, who have been struck with light- 
 ning; and that he should lose his sight for three days, and 
 be unable to eat or drink during that time, is nothing more 
 than is common in such conditions. His companions that 
 were with him appear not to have suffered in the same man- 
 ner, for they were well enough to lead him the remainder of 
 the journey; neither did they pretend to have seen any 
 rision. 
 
 The character of the person called Paul, according- to the
 
 PART II. J TUB AGE Of REASON. 139 
 
 account given of him, has in it a great deal of violence and 
 fanaticism; he had persecuted with as much heat as he 
 preached atterwards; the stroke he had received had changed 
 his thinking, without altering his constitution; and, either 
 as a Jew or a Christian, he was the same zealot. Such men 
 are never good moral evidences of any doctrine they 
 preach. They are always in extremes, as well of action aa 
 of belief. 
 
 The doctrine he sets out to prove by argument, is the 
 resurrection of the same body; and he advances this as an 
 evidence of immortality. But so much will men differ in 
 their manner of thinking, and in the conclusions they draw 
 from the same premises, that this doctrine of the resurrec- 
 tion of the same body, so far from being an evidence of im- 
 mortality, appears to me to furnish an evidence against it; 
 for if I had already died in this body, and am raised again 
 in the same body in which I have died, it is presumptive 
 evidence that I shall die again. That resurrection no more 
 secures me against the repetition of dying, than an ague- 
 fit, when past, secures me against another. To believe, 
 therefore, in immortality, I must have a more elevated idea 
 than is contained in the gloomy doctrine of the resurrection. 
 
 Besides, as a matter of choice, as well as of hope, I had 
 rather have a better body and a more convenient form than 
 the present. Every animal in the creation excels us in 
 something. The winged insects, without mentioning doves 
 or eagles, can pass over more space with greater ease, in a 
 few minutes, than a man can in an hour. The glide of the 
 smallest fish, in proportion to its bulk, exceeds us in 
 motion, almost beyond comparison, and without weariness. 
 Even the sluggish snail can ascend from the bottom of a 
 dungeon, where a man, by the want of that ability, would 
 perish; and a spider can launch itself from the top, as a 
 playful amusement. The personal powers of man are so 
 limited, and his heavy frame so little constructed to exten- 
 sive enjoyment, that there is nothing to induce us to wish 
 the opinion of Paul to be true. It is too little for the mag- 
 nitude of the scene too mean for the sublimity of the sub- 
 ject. 
 
 But all other arguments apart, the consciottsnesg of exist- 
 ence is the only conceivable idea we can have of another 
 life, and the continuance of that consciousness is immortal-
 
 140 THK AO* OF KEA80N. [PAKT O. 
 
 ity. The consciousness of existence, or the knowing that 
 we exist, is not necessarily confined to the same form, nor to 
 the same matter, even in this life. 
 
 We have not in all cases the same form, nor in any case 
 the iame matter, that compobed our bodies twenty or thirty 
 years ago; and yet we are conscious of being the same per- 
 sons. Even legs and arms which make up almost half the 
 human frame, are not necessary to the consciousness of 
 existence. These may be lost or taken away, and the full 
 consciousness of existence remain; and were their place 
 supplied by wings, or other appendages, we cannot con- 
 ceive that it could alter our consciousness of existence. 
 In short, we know not how much, or rather how little, of 
 our composition it is, and how exquisitely fine that little is, 
 that creates in us this consciousness of existence; and all be- 
 yond that is like the pulp of a peach, distinct and separate 
 from the vegetative speck in the kernel. 
 
 Who can say by what exceeding fine action of fine matter 
 it is that a thought is produced in what we call the mind? 
 and yet that thought when produced, as I now produce the 
 thought I am writing, is capable of becoming immortal, and 
 is the only production of man that has that capacity. 
 
 Statues of brass and marble will perish; and statues made 
 in imitation of them are not the same statues, nor the same 
 workmanship, any more than the copy of a picture is the 
 same picture. But print and reprint a thought a thousand 
 times over, and that with materials of any kind carve it in 
 wood, or engrave it on stone, the thought is eternally and 
 identically the same thought in every case. It has a capacity 
 of unimpaired existence, unaffected by change of matter, 
 and is essentially distinct, and of a nature different from 
 everything else that we know or can conceive. If then the 
 thing produced has in itself a capacity of being immortal, it 
 is more than a token that the power that produced it, which 
 is the self-same thing as consciousness of existence, can be 
 immortal also; and that is independently of the matter it was 
 first connected with, as the thought is of the printing or 
 writing it first appeared in. The one idea is not more diffi- 
 cult to believe than the other, and we can see that one is 
 true. 
 
 That the consciousness of existence is not dependent on 
 the same form or the same matter, is demonstrated to our
 
 PAST II.] THE AGE OF REASON. 141 
 
 senses in the works of the creation, as far as our senses are 
 capable of receiving that demonstration. A very numerous 
 part of the animal creation preaches to us, far better than 
 Paul, the belief of a life hereafter. Their little life resembles 
 an earth and a heaven a present and a future state: and 
 comprises, if it may be so expressed, immortality in minia- 
 ture. 
 
 The most beautiful parts of the creation to our eye are the 
 winged insects, and they are not so originally. They acquire 
 that form, and that inimitable brilliancy by progressive 
 changes. The slow and creeping caterpillar-worm of to-day, 
 passes in a few days to a torpid figure, and a state resembling 
 death ; and in the next change comes forth in all the minia- 
 ture magnificence of life, a splendid butterfly. No resem- 
 blance of the former creature remains; everything is chang- 
 ed; all his powers are new, and life is to him another thing. 
 We cannot conceive that the consciousness of existence is 
 not the same in this state of the animal as before; why then 
 must I believe that the resurrection of the same body is 
 necessary to continue to me the consciousness of existence 
 hereafter? 
 
 In the former part of the Age of Reason^ I have called 
 the creation the only true and real word of God; and this in- 
 stance, of this text, in the book of creation, not only shows 
 to us that this thing may be so, but that it is so; and that 
 the belief of a future state is a rational belief, founded upon 
 facts visible in the creation: for it is no more difficult to believe 
 that we shall exist hereafter in a better state and form than 
 at present, than that a worm should become a butterfly, and 
 quit the dunghill for the atmosphere, if we did not know it 
 as a fact. 
 
 As to the doubtful jargon ascribed to Paul in the 15th 
 chapter of 1 Corinthians, which makes part of the burial ser- 
 vice of some Christian sectaries, it is as destitute of meaning 
 as the tolling of the bell at a funeral; it explains nothing to 
 the understanding it illustrates nothing to the imagination, 
 but leaves the reader to find any meaning if he can. " All 
 flesh, (says he,) is not the same flesh. There is one flesh of 
 men; another of beasts; another of fishes; and another of 
 birds." And what then? nothing. A cook could have said 
 as much. "There are also, (says he,) bodies celestial and 
 bodiea terrestrial; the glory of the celestial is one, and the
 
 142 THE AGE OF REASON. [PAKT II. 
 
 glory of the terrestrial is another." And what then? noth- 
 ing. And what is the difference ? nothing that he has told. 
 " There is (says he) one glory of the sun, and another glory 
 of the moon, and another glory of the stars." And what 
 then? nothing; except that he says that "one star differeth 
 from another star in glory" instead of distance; and he 
 might as well have told' us that, the moon did not shine so 
 bright as the sun. All this is nothing better than the jargon 
 of a conjuror, who picks up phrases he does not understand, 
 to confound the credulous people who come to have their 
 fortunes told. Priests and conjurors are of the same trade. 
 
 Sometimes Paul affects to be a naturalist, and to prove 
 his system of resurrection from the principles of vegetation. 
 "Thou fool (says he,) that which thou sowest is not quick- 
 ened except it die." To which one might reply in his 
 own language and say, Thou fool, Paul, that which thou 
 sowest is not quickened except it die not; for the grain that 
 dies in the ground never does nor can vegetate. It is only 
 the livinp 1 grains that produce the next crop. But the meta- 
 phor, in any point of view, is no simile. It is succession, 
 and not ressurrection. 
 
 The progress of an animal from one state of being to 
 another, as from a worm to a butterfly, applies to this case; 
 but this of a grain does not, and shows Paul to have been 
 what he says of others a fooL 
 
 Whether the fourteen epistles ascribed to Paul were writ- 
 ten by him or not is a matter of indifference ; they are either 
 argumentative or dogmatical; and as the argument is defec- 
 tive, and the dogmatic part is merely presumptive, it signi- 
 fies not who wrote them. And the same may be said for 
 the remaining parts of the Testament It is not upon the 
 epistles, bat upon what is called the gospel, contained in 
 the four books ascribed to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, 
 and upon the pretended prophecies, that the theory of the 
 church, calling itself the Christian Church, is founded. 
 The epistles are dependent upon those, and must follow 
 their fate; for, if the story of Jesus Christ be fabulous, all 
 reasoning founded upon it as a supposed truth, must fall 
 with it 
 
 We know from history that one of the principal leaders of 
 this church, Athanasius, lived at the time of the New Testa- 
 ment was formed;* and we know, also, from the absurd 
 . according to the church chronology, In the year 371.
 
 THE AGE OF REASON. 
 
 jargon he has left us under the name of a creed, the charac- 
 ter of the men who formed the New Testament; and we 
 know, also, from the same history, that the authenticity of 
 the books of which it is composed was denied at the tune. 
 It was upon the vote of such as Athanasius that the Testa- 
 ment was decreed to be the word of God; and nothing can 
 present to us a more strange idea than that of decreeing the 
 word of God by vote. Those who rest their faith upon such 
 authority, put man in the place of God, and have no foun- 
 dation for future happiness; credulity, however, is not a 
 crime, but it becomes criminal by resisting conviction. It 
 is strangling in the womb of the conscience the efforts it 
 makes to ascertain truth. We should never force belief 
 upon ourselves in anything. 
 
 I here close the subject on the Old Testament and the 
 New. The evidence I have produced to prove them for- 
 geries is extracted from the books themselves, and acts like 
 a two-edged sword, either way. If the evidence be denied, 
 the authenticity of the scriptures is denied with it; for it is 
 scripture evidence; and if the evidence be admitted, the 
 authenticity of the books is disproved. The contradictory 
 impossibilities contained in the Old Testament and the New 
 put them in the case of a man who swears for and against. 
 Either evidence convicts him of perjury, and equally de- 
 troys reputation. 
 
 Should the Bible and the Testament hereafter fall, it is 
 not I that have been the occasion. 1 have done no more 
 than extracted the evidence from that confused mass of 
 matter with which it is mixed, and arranged that evidence 
 in a point of light to be clearly seen and easily compre- 
 hended; and, having done this, I leave the reader to judge 
 for himself, u I have judged for myself.
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 In the former part of the Age of -Reason, I have spoken 
 of the three frauds, mystery, miracle, and prophecy > 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 <A thap* / a dm. It might as weD have said a fooae; the 
 creature* ure equally harmless, and the one Is as ranch a nonsensical lie as the 
 oiher. The second of Acts, TCF. 2, 8, says, that It descended In a mighty rtuAiM 
 wind. In the shape of clown tongvtt: perhaps it was cloven feet. 8ch aheni 
 aufi la only fit for tales of witches and wUarda.
 
 PAKT II. j THE AOK OF BKABON. 151 
 
 false as those of the other, and are calculated for mutual 
 support. The study of theology, as it stands in Christian 
 churches, is the study of nothing; it is founded on nothing; 
 it rests on no principles; it proceeds by no authorities; it 
 has no data; it can demonstrate nothing; and it admits of 
 no conclusion. Not anything can be studied as a science, 
 without our being in possession of the principles upon which 
 it is founded ; and as this is not the case with Christian 
 theology, it is therefore the study of nothing. 
 
 Instead then of studying theology, as is now done, out 
 of the Bible and Testament, the meanings of which books 
 are always controverted, and the authenticity of which ia 
 disproved, it is necessary that we refer to the Bible of the 
 creation. The principles we discover there are eternal, and 
 of divine origin: they are the foundation of all the science 
 that exists in the world, and must be the foundation of 
 theology. 
 
 We can know God only through his works. We cannot 
 have a conception of any one attribute, but by following some 
 principle that leads to it. We have only a confused idea of 
 his power, if we have not the means of comprehending 
 something of its immensity. We can have no idea of hia 
 wisdom, but by knowing the order and manner in which it act*. 
 The principles of science lead to this knowledge; for the Crea- 
 tor of man is the Creator of science ; and it is through that 
 medium that man can see God, as it were, face to face. 
 
 Could a man be placed in a situation, and endowed with 
 the power of vision, to behold at one view, and to contem- 
 plate deliberately, the structure of the universe; to mark the 
 movements of the several planets, the cause of their varying 
 appearances, the unerring order in which they revolve, even 
 to the remotest comet; their connection and dependence on 
 each other, and to know the system of laws established by the 
 Creator, that governs and regulates the whole; he would then 
 conceive, far beyond what any church theology can teach him, 
 the power, the wisdom, the vastness, the munificence, of the 
 Creator; he would then see, that all the knowledge man has 
 of science, and that all the mechanical arts by which he 
 renders his situation comfortable here, are derived from that 
 source: his mind, exalted by the scene, and convinced by the 
 /act, would increase in gratitude as it increased in knowledge; 
 hia religion or hia worship would become united with hi*
 
 152 THE AGE OF REASON. [PART H. 
 
 improvement as a man; any employment he followed, that 
 had connection with the principles of creation, as every thing 
 of agriculture, of science, and of the mechanical arts, has, 
 would teach him more of God, and of the gratitude he owes 
 to him, than any theological Christian sermon he now hears. 
 Great objects inspire great thoughts; great munificence 
 excites great gratitude; but the groveling tales and doctrines 
 of the Bible and the Testament are fit only to excite con- 
 tempt. 
 
 Though man cannot arrive, at least in this life, at the 
 actual scene I have described, he can demonstrate it; because 
 he has a knowledge of the principles upon which the creation 
 is constructed. We know that the greatest works can be 
 represented in model, and that the universe can be repre- 
 sented by the same means. The same principles by which 
 we measure an inch, or an acre of ground, will measure to 
 millions in extent. A circle of an inch in diameter has the 
 same geometrical properties as a circle that would circum- 
 scribe the universe. The same properties of a triangle that 
 will demonstrate upon paper the course of a ship, will do it 
 on the ocean; and when applied to what are called the heav- 
 enly bodies, will ascertain to a minute the time of an eclipse, 
 though these bodies are millions of miles distant from us. 
 This knowledge is of divine origin; and it is from the Bible 
 of the creation that man has learned it, and not from the 
 stupid Bible of the church, that teacheth man nothing.* 
 
 All the knowledge man has of science and of machinery, 
 by the aid of which his existence is rendered comfortable 
 upon earth, and without which he would be scarcely distin- 
 guishable in appearance and condition from a common ani- 
 mal, comes from the great machine and structure of the 
 universe. The constant and unwearied observations of our 
 
 The Bible-makers hare undertaken to Eire us, In the first chapter of Gene- 
 its, an account of the creation; and In doing this they have demonstrated 
 nothing but their ignorance. They make there to hare been three days and three 
 alghts, erenings and mornings, before there was a enn; when it is the presence 
 r abttence of a sun that is the canae of day and night and what Is called his 
 riilng and setting, that of morning and evening. Besides, it is a puerile and 
 pitiful idea, to suppose the Almighty to say, "Let there be light," It is the im- 
 perative manner ol speaking that a conjuror uses, when he says to his cups and 
 balls, Presto, be gone and most probably has been taken from it, as Moses and 
 his rod are a conjuror and his wand. Longinns calls this expression the 
 ubllme; and by the same rule the conjuror is sublime too; for the manner of 
 peaking is expressively and grammatically the same. When authors and critic* 
 talk of the sublime, they see not how nearly it borders on the ridiculous. The 
 ubllme of the critics, like some part* of Edmund Bnrke's sublime and beautiful, 
 U like a wind-mill Just visible In a fog. which Imagination might distort Into 
 tying mountain, or an archangel, or a flock of wild geeee.
 
 f AJBT n.] THTE A&E OF SEASON. 163 
 
 ancestors upon the movements and revolutions of the hea ve nl 
 bodies, in what are supposed to have been the early ages v 
 the world, have brought this knowledge upon earth, of 
 is not Moses and the prophets, nor Jesus Chriat, nor his 
 apostles that have done it. The Almighty is the great me- 
 chanic of the creation; the first philosopher and original 
 teacher of all science. Let us, then, learn to reverence our 
 master, and let us not forget the labors of our ancestors. 
 
 Had we, at this day, no knowledge of machinery, and were 
 it possible that man could have a view, as I have before de- 
 scribed, of the structure and machinery of the universe, he 
 would soon conceive the idea of constructing some at least 
 of the mechanical works we now have: and the idea so con- 
 ceived would progressively advance in practice. Or could 
 a model of the universe, such as is called an orrery, be pre- 
 sented before him and put in motion, his mind would arrive 
 it the same idea. Such an object and such a subject would, 
 whilst it improved him in knowledge useful to himself aa a 
 man and a member of society, as well as entertaining, afford 
 far better matter for impressing him with a knowledge of, 
 and a belief in the Creator, and of the reverence and grati- 
 tude that man owes to him, than the stupid texts of the Bible 
 and of the Testament, from which, be the talents of the 
 preacher what they may, only stupid sermons can be preach- 
 ed. If man must preach, let him preach something that is 
 edifying, and from texts that are known to be true. 
 
 Tne Bible of the creation is inexhaustible in texts. Every 
 part of science, whether connected with the geometry of the 
 universe, with the systems of animal and vegetable life, or 
 with the properties of inanimate matter, is a text as well for 
 devotion as for philosophy for gratitude as for human im- 
 provement. It will perhaps be said, that if such a revolution 
 in the system of religion takes place, every preacher ought 
 to be a philosopher. Most certainly; and every house of 
 devotion a school of science. 
 
 It has been by wandering from the immutable law* of 
 science, and the right use of reason, and setting up an in- 
 vented thing called revealed religion, that so many wild and 
 blasphemous conceits have been formed of the Almighty. 
 The Jews have made him the assassin of the human specie*, 
 to make room for the religion of the Jews. The Christiana 
 have made him the murderer of himself, and the founder at
 
 164 THE AGE 07 BKABOH. [PART IL 
 
 a new religion, to supersede and expel the Jewish religion. 
 And to find pretense and admission for these things, they 
 must hare supposed his power and his wisdom imperfect, or 
 his will changeable; and the changeableness of the will is 
 the imperfection of the judgment The philosopher knows 
 that the laws of the Creator have never changed with 
 respect either to the principles of science, or the properties of 
 matter. Why, then, is it supposed they have changed with 
 respect to man? 
 
 I here close the subject I have shown in all the forego- 
 ing parts of this work that the Bible and Testament are im- 
 positions and forgeries; and I leave the evidence I have pro- 
 duced in proof of it to be refuted, if any one can do it; and I 
 leave the ideas that are suggested in the conclusion of the 
 work to rest on the mind of the reader; certain as I am, that 
 when opinions are free, either in matters of government or 
 religion, truth will finally and powerfully prevail
 
 EXAMINATION 
 
 or THE 
 
 PASSAGES IN THE NEW TESTAMENT 
 
 QUOTED FROM THE OLD, 
 
 AND CALLED 
 
 PROPHECIES CONCERNING JESUS CHRIST, 
 
 TOGBTHEB WITH 
 
 A REPLY TO THE BISHOP OP LLANDAFF. 
 A LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE, 
 
 AND 
 
 / 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 11
 
 PKEFACE. 
 
 TO THE MINISTERS AND PREACHERS OP ALL DENOMINA, 
 TIONS OF RELIGION. 
 
 IT is the duty of every man, as far as his ability extends, to 
 detect and expose delusion and error. But nature has not given 
 to every one a talent for the purpose ; and among those to 
 whom such a talent is given, there is often a want of disposition 
 or of courage to do it. 
 
 The world, or more properly speaking, that small part of it 
 sailed Christendom, or the Christian World, has been amused 
 for more than a thousand years with accounts of Prophecies in 
 the Old Testament, about the coming of the person called Jesus 
 Christ, and thousands of sermons have been preached, and vol- 
 umes written, to make man believe it. 
 
 In the following treatise I have examined all the passages in 
 the New Testament, quoted from the Old, and called prophecies 
 concerning Jesus Christ, and I find no such thing as a prophecy 
 of any such person, and I deny there are any. The passages all 
 relate to circumstances the Jewish nation was in at the time they 
 were written or spoken, and not to anything that was or was 
 not to happen in the world several hundred years afterwards ; 
 and I have shown what the circumstances were, to which the 
 passages apply or refer. I have given chapter and verse for 
 everything I have said, and have not gone out of the books of 
 the Old and New Testament for evidence that the passages are 
 not prophecies of the person called Jesus Christ. 
 
 The prejudice of unfounded belief, often degenerates into the 
 prejudice of custom, and becomes, at last, rank hypocrisy. 
 When men, from custom or fashion, or any worldly motive, pro- 
 fess or pretend to believe what they do not believe, nor can give
 
 104 PREFACE. 
 
 any reason for believing, they unship the helm of their morality, 
 and being no longer honest to their own minds, they feel no 
 moral difficulty in being unjust to others. It is from the in- 
 fluence of this vice, hypocrisy, that we see so many Church and 
 Meeting-going professors and pretenders to religion, so full of 
 trick and deceit in their dealings, and so loose in the perform- 
 ance of their engagements, that they are not to be trusted fur- 
 ther than the laws of the country will bind them. Morality 
 has no hold on their minds, no restraint on their actions. 
 
 One set of preachers make salvation to consist in believing. 
 They tell their corgregations, that if they believe in Christ, 
 their sins shall be forgiven. This, in the first place, is an en- 
 couragement to sin, in a similar manner as when a prodigal 
 young fellow is told his father will paj all his debts, he runs 
 into debt the faster, and becomes more extravagant : Daddy, 
 says he, pays all, and on he goes. Just so in the other case, 
 Christ pays all, and on goes the sinner. 
 
 In the next place, the doctrine these men preach is not true. 
 The New Testament rests itself for credulity and testimony on- 
 what are called prophecies in the Old Testament, of the person 
 called Jesus Christ ; and if there are no such things as prophe- 
 cies of any such person in the Old Testament, the New Testa- 
 ment is a forgery of the councils of Nice and Laodicea, and 
 the faith founded thereon, delusion and falsehood.* 
 
 Another set of preachers tell their congregations that God 
 predestinated and selected from all eternity, a certain number 
 to be saved, and a certain number to be damned eternally. If 
 this were true, the day of Judgment is PAST : their preaching is 
 in vain, and they had better work at some useful calling for 
 .their livelihood. 
 
 The councils of Nice and Laodicea were held about 350 yeara after th 
 time Christ ia said to have lived ; and the books that now compose tne 
 New Testament, were then voted for by YEAS and NATS, as we now vote a 
 law. A great many that were offered had a majority of nays, and were re- 
 jected. This u tha war *he New Testament came into being.
 
 PREFACE. 165 
 
 This doctrine, also, like the former, hath a direct tendency to 
 demoralize mankind. Can a bad man be reformed by telling 
 him, that if he is one of those who was decreed to be damned 
 before he was born, his reformation will do him no good ; and 
 if he was decreed to be saved, he will be saved whether he 
 believes it or not ; for this is the result of the doctrine. Such 
 preaching, and such preachers, do injury to the moral world. 
 They had better be at the plow. 
 
 As in my political works my motive and object have been to 
 give man an elevated sense of his own character, and free him 
 from the slavish and superstitious absurdity of monarchy and 
 hereditary government, so in my publications on religious sub- 
 jects my endeavors have been directed to bring man to a right 
 use of the reason that God has given him ; to impress on him 
 the great principles of divine morality, justice, mercy, and a 
 benevolent disposition to all men, and to all creatures, and to 
 inspire in him a spirit of trust, confidence and consolation in 
 his Creator, unshackled by the fables of books pretending to 
 be the word of God. 
 
 THOMAS PAINB
 
 EXAMINATION 
 
 OP THE 
 
 PASSAGES IN THE NEW TESTAMENT, 
 
 QUOTED FROM THE OLD, AND GALLED PROPHECIES OF THE CODING OF 
 
 JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 [THIS work was first published by Mr. Paine, at New York, 
 in 1807, and was the last of his writings, edited by himself. 
 It is evidently extracted from his answer to the Bishop of 
 Llandaff, or from his third part of the "Age of Reason," both of 
 which, it appears by his will, he left in manuscript. The term, 
 " The Bishop" occurs in this examination six times without 
 designating what bishop is meant. Of all the replies to his 
 second part of the " Age of Reason," that of Bishop Watsou was 
 the only one to which he paid particular attention; and he is, 
 no doubt, the person here alluded to. Bishop Watson's apology 
 for the Bible had been published some years before Mr. P. left 
 France, and the latter composed his answer to it, and also his 
 third part of the " Age of Reason," while in that country. 
 
 When Mr. Paine arrived in America, and found that liberal 
 opinions on religion were in disrepute, through the influence of 
 hypocrisy and superstition, he declined publishing the entire of 
 the works which he had prepared; observing that "An author 
 might lose the credit he had acquired by writing too much." 
 He however gave to the public the examination before us, in a 
 pamphlet form. But the apathy which appeared to prevail at 
 that time in regard to religious inquiry, fully determined him 
 to discontinue the publication of his theological writings. In 
 this case, taking only a portion of one of the works before 
 mentioned, he chose a title adapted to the particular part 
 selected.] 
 
 The Passages called Prophecies of, or concerning, Jesus Christ, 
 in the Old Testament, may be classed under the two following 
 heads: 
 
 First, those referred to in the four books of the New Testa-
 
 168 EXAMINATION OP 
 
 ment, called the four Evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and 
 John. 
 
 Secondly, those which translators and commentators have, of 
 their own imagination, erected into prophecies, and dubbed 
 with that title at the head of the several chapters of the Old 
 Testament. Of these it is scarcely worth while to waste time, 
 ink and paper upon; I shall, therefore, confine myself chiefly 
 to those referred to in the aforesaid four books of the New 
 Testament. If I show that these are not prophecies of the 
 person called Jesus Christ, nor have reference to any such 
 person, it will be perfectly needless to combat those which 
 translators, or the Church, have invented, and for which they 
 had no other authority than their own imagination 
 
 I begin with the book called the Gospel according to St. 
 Matthew 
 
 In the first chap ver 18, it is said, "Now the birth of Jesus 
 Christ was in this wise: when his Mother Mary was espoused 
 to Joseph, before tJiey came togetlier SHE WAS FOUND WITH CHILD 
 BY THE HOLY GHOST." This is going a little too fast, because 
 to make this verse agree with the next it should have said no 
 more than that she was found with child; for the next verse 
 says, " Then Joseph her husband being a just man, and not 
 willing to make her a public example, was minded to put her 
 away privily." Consequently Joseph had found out no more 
 than that she was with child, and he knew it was not by him- 
 elf. 
 
 V. 20. "And while he thought of these things (that is, whether 
 he should put her away privily, or maka a public example of 
 her) behold the Angel of the Lord appeared to him IN A DREAM 
 (that is, Joseph dreamed that an angel appeared unto him), 
 saying, Joseph, tliou son of David, fear not to take unto thee 
 Mary thy wife, for tliat which is conceived in her is of the Holy 
 Gtiost. And site sliall briny forth a son and call his name 
 Jesus ; for he shall save his people from t/ieir sins." 
 
 Now, without entering into any discussion upon the merits 
 or demerits of the account here given, it is proper to observe, 
 that it has no higher authority than that of a dream ; for it is 
 impossible for a man to behold anything in a dream, but that 
 which he dreams of. I ask not, therefore whether Joseph (if 
 there was such a man) had such a dream or not; because ad- 
 mitting he had, it proves nothing. So wonderful and rational 
 is the faculty of the mind in dreams, that it acts the part of
 
 THE PROPHECIES. 169 
 
 all the characters its imagination creates, and what it thinks it 
 hears from any of them, is no other than what the roving 
 rapidity of its own imagination invents. It is, therefore, 
 nothing to me what Joseph dreamed of ; whether of the fidelity 
 or infidelity of his wife. f pay no regard to my own dreams, 
 and 1 should be weak indeed to put faith iu the dreams of 
 another. 
 
 The verses that follow those I have quoted, are the words of 
 the writer of the book of Matthew "A'oio (says lie), fill this 
 {that is, all this dreaming and this pregnancy) teas done that it 
 might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the Proplwt, 
 saying, 
 
 " Behold a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a 
 son, and they shall call his name Emanuel, which being inter- 
 preted, is, God with ws." 
 
 This passage is in Isaiah, chap, vii ver 14, and the writer 
 of the book of Matthew endeavors to make his readers believe 
 that this passage is a prophecy of the person called Jesus 
 Christ. It is no such thing and I go to show it is not. But 
 it is first necessary that I explain the occasion of these words 
 being spoken by Isaiah ; the reader will then easily perceive, 
 that so far from their being a prophecy of Jesus Christ, they 
 have not the least reference to such a person, or anything that 
 could happen in the time that Christ is said to have lived 
 which was about seven hundred years after the time of Isaiah 
 The case is this : 
 
 On the death of Solomon the Jewish nation split into two 
 monarchies: one called the kingdom of Judah, the capital of 
 which was Jerusalem; the other ih kingdom of Israel, the 
 capital of which was Samaria The kingdom of Judah followed 
 the line of David, and the kingdom of Israel that of Saul; and 
 these two rival monarchies frequently carried on fierce wars 
 against each other. 
 
 At the time Ahaz was king of Judah, which was in the time 
 of Isaiah, Pekah was king of Israel ; and Pekah joined himself 
 to Rezin, king of Syria, to make war against Ahaz, king of 
 Judah ; and these two kings marched a confederated and power- 
 ful army against Jerusalem Ahaz and his people became 
 alarmed at the danger, and "their hearts were moved as the trees 
 of the wood are moved with the wind." Isaiah, chap, vii ver. 3. 
 
 In this perilous situation of things. Isaiah addressed himself 
 to Ahaz, and assures him, in the name of the Lord (the cant
 
 170 EXAMINATION OP 
 
 phrase of all the prophets), that these two kings should not 
 succeed against him . and, to assure him that this should be 
 the case (the case was however directly contrary*), tells Ahaz 
 to ask a sign of the Lord. This Ahaz declined doing, giving as 
 a reason that he would not tempt the Lord ; upon which Isaiah, 
 who pretends to be sent from God, says, ver 14, "Therefore 
 the Lord himself shall give you a sign, behold a virgin shall 
 conceive and bear a son Butter and honey shall he eat, that 
 he may know to refuse the evil and choose the good For be- 
 fore the child shall know to refuse the evil and choose the 
 good, the land which thou abhorrest shall be forsaken of both 
 her kings" meaning the king of Israel and the king of Syria r 
 who were marching against him. 
 
 Here then is the sign, which was to be the birth of a child, 
 and that child a son, and here also is the time limited for the 
 accomplishment of the sign, namely, before the child should 
 know to refuse the evil and choose the good. 
 
 The thing, therefore, to be a sign of success to Ahaz, must 
 be something that would take place before the event of the 
 battle then pending between him and the two kings could be 
 known. A thing to be a sign must precede the thing signi- 
 fied. The sign of rain must be before the rain. 
 
 It would have been mockery and insulting nonsense for 
 Isaiah to have assured Ahaz as a sign, that these two kings 
 should not prevail against him:, that a child should be born 
 seven hundred years after he was dead; and that before the 
 child so born should know to refuse the evil and choose the 
 good, he, Ahaz, should be delivered from the danger he was- 
 then immediately threatened with. 
 
 But the case is, that the child of which Isaiah speaks was 
 his own child, with which his wife or his mistress was then preg- 
 nant ; for he says in the next chapter, v. 2, " And I took unto 
 me faithful witnesses to record, Uriah the priest, and Zechariah 
 the son of Jeberechiah ; and I went unto the prophetess, and 
 
 * Chron. chap, xxviii. ver. 1st. Ahaz was twenty years old when he began 
 to reign, and he reigned sixteen years in Jerusalem, but he did not that which 
 teas right in the sight of the Lord. ver. 5. Wherefore the Lord his God deliv- 
 ered him into the hands of the king of Syria, and they smote him, and carried" 
 away a great multitude of them captive and brought them to Damascus ; and he 
 was aho delivered into the hand of the king of Israel, who smote him with a 
 great slaughter. 
 
 Ver. 6. And Pekah (king of Israel) slew in Judah an hundred and twenty 
 thousand in one day. ver. 8. And the children of Israel carried away captivt 
 of their brethren two hundred thousand women, sons, and daughters.
 
 THE PROPHECIES. 171 
 
 ghe conceived and bare a son;" and he says, at ver. 18 of the 
 same chapter, " Behold I and the children whom the Lord hath 
 given me are for signs and for wonders in Israel" 
 
 It may not be improper here to observe, that the word trans- 
 lated a virgin in Isaiah, does not signify a virgin in Hebrew, 
 but merely a young woman. The tense also is falsified in the 
 translation. Levi gives the Hebrew text of the 14th ver. of the 
 6th chap, of Isaiah, and the translation in English with it 
 " Behold a young woman is with child and beareth a son." The 
 expression, says he, is in the present tense. This translation 
 agrees with the other circumstances, related of the birth of this 
 child, which was to be a sign to Ahaz. But as the true trans- 
 lation could not have been imposed upon the world as a 
 prophecy of a child to be born seven hundred years afterwards, 
 the Christian translators have falsified the original: and instead 
 of making Isaiah to say, behold a young woman is with child 
 and beareth a son they make him to say, behold a virgin shall 
 conceive and bear a son. It is, however, only necessary for a 
 person to read the 7th and 8th chapters of Isaiah, and he will be 
 convinced that the passage in question is no prophecy of the 
 person called Jesus Christ. I pass on to the second passage 
 
 Suoted from the Old Testament by the New, as a prophecy of 
 esus Christ. 
 
 Matthew, chap. ii. ver. 1. "Now when Jesus was born in 
 Bethlehem of Judah, in the days of Herod the king, behold 
 there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem saying, where 
 is he that is born king of the Jews ? for we have seen his star 
 in the east, and are come to worship him. When Herod, the 
 king, heard these things, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem 
 with him and when he had gathered all the chief priests and 
 scribes of the people together, he demanded of them where 
 Christ should be born and they said unto him in Bethlehem, 
 in the land of Judea : for thus it is written by the prophet 
 and thou Bethlehem, in the land of Judea, art not the least among 
 the Princes of Judea, for out of thee shall come a Governor that 
 shall rule my people Israel." This passage is in Micah, chap. 5. 
 ver. 2. 
 
 I pass over the absurdity of seeing and following a star in the 
 day-time, as a man would a Will with the wisp, or a candle and 
 lantern at night ; and also that of seeing it in the east, when 
 they themselves came from the east ; for could such a thing be 
 seen at all to serve them for a jruide, it must be in the west to
 
 172 EXAMINATION OF 
 
 them. I confine myself solely to the passage called a prophecy 
 of Jesus Christ. 
 
 The book of Micah, in the passage above quoted, chap. v. ver. 
 2, is speaking of some person without mentioning his name from 
 whom some great achievements were expected ; but the descrip- 
 tion he gives of this person at the 5th verse, proves evidently 
 that it is not Jesus Christ, for he says at the 5th ver. " and this 
 man shall be the peace when the Assyrian shall come into our 
 land, and when he shall tread in our palaces, then shall we raise 
 up war against him (that is, against the Assyrian) seven shep- 
 herds and eight principal men v. 6. And they shall waste the 
 land of Assyria with the sword, and the land of Nimrod on the 
 entrance thereof : thus shall He (the person spoken of at the 
 head of the second verse) deliver us from the Assyrian when 
 he cometh into our land, and when he treadeth within our 
 borders." 
 
 This is so evidently descriptive of a military chief, that it 
 cannot be applied to Christ without outraging the character 
 they pretend to give us of him. Besides which the circum- 
 stances of the times here spoken of, and those of the times in 
 which Christ is said to have lived, are in contradiction to each 
 other. It was the Romans, and not the Assyrians, that had 
 conquered and were in t/ie land of Judea, and trod in their palaces 
 when Christ was born, and when he died, and so far from his 
 driving them out, it was they who signed the warrant for his 
 execution, and he suffered under it. 
 
 Having thus shown that this is no prophecy of Jesus Christ, 
 I pass on to the third passage quoted from the Old Testament 
 by the New, as a prophecy of him. 
 
 This, like the first I have spoken of, is introduced by a dream. 
 Joseph dreameth another dream, and dreameth that he seeth 
 another angeL The account begins at the 13th v. of 2nd chap 
 of Matthew. 
 
 " The angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream, say- 
 ing, Arise and take the young child and his mother and flee into 
 Egypt, and be thou thore until I bring thee word : For Herod 
 will seek the life of the young child to destroy him. When he 
 arose he took the young child and his mother by night and 
 departed into Egypt and was there until the death of Herod, 
 that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the 
 pi-ophet, saying, Out of Egypt I have called my son." 
 
 This passage is in the book of Hosea, chap. xi. ver. 1. The
 
 THE PROPHECIES. 173 
 
 words are, "When Israel was a child then I loved him and 
 called my son out of Egypt As they called them, so they went 
 from them, they sacrificed unto Balaam and burnt incense to 
 graven images." 
 
 This passage, falsely called a prophecy of Christ, refers to the 
 children of Israel coming out of Egypt in the time of Pharaoh, 
 and to the idolatry they committed afterwards. To make it 
 apply to Jesus Christ, he must then be the person who sacrificed 
 unto Baalam and burnt incense to graven images, for the person 
 called out of Egypt by the collective name, Israel, and the per- 
 sons committing this indolatry, are the same persons, or the 
 descendants from them. This, then, can be no prophecy of 
 Jesus Christ, unless they are willing to make an idolater of him. 
 I pass on to the fourth passage, called, a prophecy by the writer 
 of the book of Matthew. 
 
 This is introduced by a story told by nobody but himself, and 
 scarcely believed by anybody, of the slaughter of all the chil- 
 dren under two years old, by the command of Herod. A thing 
 which it is not probable should be done by Herod, as he only 
 held an office under the Roman government, to which appeals 
 could always be had, as we see in the case of Paul. 
 
 Matthew, however, having made or told his story, says, chap, 
 ii. v . 17. "Then was fulfilled that which was spoken by Jere- 
 miah, the prophet, saying, In Ramah was there a voice heard, 
 lamentation, weeping and great mourning ; Rachel weeping for 
 her children, and would not be comforted because they were not" 
 
 This passage is in Jeremiah chap. xxxi. ver. 15, and this 
 verse when separated from the verses before and after it, and 
 which explains its application, might, with equal propriety, be 
 applied to every case of wars, sieges and other violences, such as 
 the Christians themselves have often done to the Jews, where 
 mothers have lamented the loss of their children. There is 
 nothing in the verse, taken singly, that designates or points out 
 any particular application of it, otherwise than it points to 
 some circumstances which, at the time of writing it, had already 
 happened, and not to a thing yet to happen, for the verse is in 
 the preter or past tense. I go to explain the case and show the 
 application of the verse. 
 
 Jeremiah lived in the time that Nebuchadnezzar besieged, 
 took, plundered and destroyed Jerusalem, and led the Jews cap- 
 tive to Babylon. He carried his violence against the Jews to 
 every extreme. He slew the sons of King Zedekiah, before liis
 
 174 EXAMINATION OF 
 
 face, he then put out the eyes of Zedekiah, and kept him ia 
 prison till the day of his death. 
 
 It is of this time of sorrow and suffering to the Jews that 
 Jeremiah is speaking. Their temple was destroyed, their land 
 desolated, their nation and government entirely broken up, and 
 themselves, men, women and children, carried into captivity. 
 They had too many sorrows of their own, immediately before 
 their eyes, to permit them, or any of their chiefs, to be employ- 
 ing themselves on things that might, or might not, happen in 
 the world seven hundred years afterwards. 
 
 It is, as already observed, of this time of sorrow and suffering 
 to the Jews that Jeremiah is speaking in the verse in question. 
 In the two next verses, the 16th and 17th, he endeavors to 
 console the sufferings by giving them hopes, and according to the 
 fashion of speaking in those days, assurances from the Lord, 
 that their sufferings should have an end, and that their children 
 should return again to their own children. But I leave the 
 verses to speak for themselves, and the Old Testament to testify 
 against the New. 
 
 Jeremiah, chap. xxxi. ver. 15. "Thus saith the Lord, a 
 voice was heard in Rainah (it is in the preter tense), lamentation 
 and bitter weeping: Rachel weeping for her children because 
 they were not." 
 
 Verse 16. "Thus saith the Lord, refrain thy voice from 
 weeping, and thine eyes from tears ; for thy work shall be re- 
 warded, said the Lord, and THEY shall come again from the land 
 of the enemy." 
 
 Verse 17. "And there is hope in thine end, saith the Lord, 
 that thy children shall come again to their own border." 
 
 By what strange ignorance or imposition is it, that the chil- 
 dren of which Jeremiah speaks (meaning the people of the 
 Jewish nation, scripturally called children of Israel, and not 
 mere infants under two years old), and who were to return 
 again from the land of the enemy, and come again into their 
 own borders, can mean the children that Matthew makes Herod 
 to slaughter? Could those return again from the land of the 
 enemy, or how can the land of the enemy be applied to them I 
 Could they come again to their own borders ? Good heavens ! 
 How has the world been imposed upon by Testament-makers, 
 priestcraft, and pretended prophecies. I pass on to the fifth 
 passage called a prophecy of Jesus Christ. 
 
 This, like two of the former, is introduced by dream. Josepb
 
 THE PROPHECIES. 175 
 
 dreamed another dream, and dreameth of another Angel. And 
 Matthew is again the historian of the dream and the dreamer. 
 If it were asked how Matthew could know what Joseph dreamed, 
 neither the Bishop nor all the Church could answer the ques- 
 tion. Perhaps it was Matthew that dreamed, and not Joseph ; 
 that is, Joseph dreamed by proxy, in Matthew's brain, as they 
 tell us Daniel dreamed for Nebuchadnezzar. But be this as it 
 may, I go on with my subject. 
 
 The account of this dream is in Matthew, chap. ii. ver. 19. 
 " But when Herod was dead, behold an angel of the Lord 
 appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt, saying, Arise, and 
 take the young child and its mother and go into the land of 
 Israel, for they are dead which sought the young child's life. 
 And he arose and took the young child and his mother and came 
 into the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus did 
 reign in Judea in the room of his father Herod, he was afraid 
 to go thither: notwithstanding being warned of God in a 
 dream (here is another dream), he turned aside into the parts of 
 Galilee ; and he came and dwelt in a city called Nazareth, that 
 it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophets, He, shall 
 be called a Nazarene " 
 
 Here is good circumstantial evidence that Matthew dreamed, 
 for there is no such passage in all the Old Testament ; and I 
 invite the bishop and all the priests in Christendom, including 
 those of America, to produce it. I pass on to the sixth pas- 
 sage, called a prophecy of Jesus Christ. 
 
 This, as Swift says on another occasion, is lugged in head and 
 shoulders. It need only to be seen in order to be hooted as a 
 forced and far-fetched piece of imposition. 
 
 Matthew, chap. iv. v. 12. " Now when Jesus had heard that 
 John was cast into prison, he departed into Galilee and leav- 
 ing Nazareth, he came and dwelt in Capernaum, which is upon 
 the sea-coast, in the borders of Zebulon and Nephthalim That 
 it might be fulfilled which was spoken by Esaias (Isaiah) the 
 prophet, saying, The land of Zebulon and the land of Nepthalim, 
 by the way of the sea, beyond Jordan, in Galilee of the Gentiles 
 the people which sat in darkness saw great light ; and to them 
 which sat in the region and shadow of death, light is springing 
 upon them." 
 
 I wonder Matthew has not made the cris-cross-row, or the 
 christ-cross-row (I know not how the priests spell it) into a pro- 
 phecy. He might as well have done this as cut out these uu-
 
 176 EXAMINATION OF 
 
 connected and undescriptive sentences from the place they stand 
 in and dubbed them with that title. 
 
 The words, however, are in Isaiah, chap. ix. verses 1, 2, as 
 follows : 
 
 " Nevertheless the dimness shall not be such as was in her 
 vexation, when at the first he lightly afflicted the land of Zebulon 
 and the land of Nephthali, and afterward did more grievously 
 afflict her by the way of tlie sea, beyond Jordan, in Galilee of the 
 nations." 
 
 All this relates to two circumstances that had already hap 
 pened, at the time these words in Isaiah were written. The 
 one, where the land of Zebulon and Nephthali had been lightly 
 afflicted, and afterwards more grievously by the way of the sea. 
 
 But observe, reader, how Matthew has falsified the text. He 
 begins his quotation at a part of the verse where there is not 
 so much as a comma, and thereby cuts off everything that re- 
 lates to the first affliction. He then leaves out all that relates 
 to the second affliction, and by this means leaves out everything 
 that makes the verse intelligible, and reduces it to a senseless 
 skeleton of names and towns. 
 
 To bring this imposition of Matthew clearly and immediately 
 before the eye of the reader, I will repeat the verse, and put 
 between crotchets the words he has left out, and put in Italics 
 those he has preserved. 
 
 [Nevertheless the dimness shall not be such as was in her 
 vexation when at the first he lightly afflicted] the land of Zebulon 
 and the land of Nephthali, [and did afterwards more grievously 
 afflict her] by the way of the sea beyond Jordan in Galilee of tho 
 nations." 
 
 What gross imposition is it to gut, as the phrase is, a verse 
 in this manner, render it perfectly senseless, and then puff it off 
 on a credulous world as a prophecy. I proceed to the next 
 verse. 
 
 Ver. 2. "The people that walked in darkness have seen a 
 great light : they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, 
 upon them hath the light shined." All this is historical, and 
 not in the least prophetical The whole is in the preter tense : 
 it speaks of things that had been accomplished at the time the 
 words were written, and not of things to be accomplished after- 
 wards. 
 
 As then the passage is in no possible sense prophetical, nor 
 intended to be so, and that to attempt to make it so, is not only
 
 THE PROPHECIES. 177 
 
 to falsify the original, but to commit a criminal imposition ; it 
 is a matter of no concern to us, otherwise than as curiosity, to 
 know who the p.eople were of which the passage speaks, that sat 
 in darkness, and what the light was that shined in upon them. 
 
 If we look into the preceding chapter, the 8th, of which the 
 9th is only a continuation, we shall find the writer speaking, at 
 the 19th verse, of "witches and wizards who peep about and 
 mutter" and of people who made application to them ; and he 
 preaches and exhorts them against this darksome practice. It is 
 of this people, and of this darksome practice, or walking in dark- 
 ness, that he is speaking at the 2nd verse of the 9th chapter ; 
 and with respect to the light that liad shined in upon them, it 
 refers entirely to his own ministry, and to the boldness of it, 
 which opposed itself to that of the witcltes and wizards who 
 peeped about and muttered. 
 
 Isaiah is, upon the whole, a wild disorderly writer, preserving 
 in general no clear chain of perception in the arrangement of 
 his ideas, and consequently producing no defined conclusions 
 from them. It is the wildness of his style, the confusion of his 
 ideas, and the ranting metaphors he employs, that have afforded 
 so many opportunities to priestcraft in some cases, and to super- 
 stition in others, to impose those defects upon the world as pro- 
 phecies of Jesus Christ. Finding no direct meaning in them, 
 and not knowing what to make of them, and supposing at the 
 same time they were intended to have a meaning, they supplied 
 the defect by inventing a meaning of their own, and called it 
 his. I have, however, in this place done Isaiah the justice to 
 rescue him from the claws of Matthew, who has torn him un- 
 mercifully to pieces ; and from the imposition or ignorance of 
 priests and commentators, by letting Isaiah speak for himself. 
 
 If the words walking in darkness, and light breaking in y 
 could in any case be applied prophetically, which they cannot 
 be, they would better apply to the times we now live in than to 
 any other. The world has " walked in darkness" for eighteen 
 hundred years, both as to religion and government, and it is 
 only since the American Revolution began that light has broken 
 in. The belief of one God, whose attributes are revealed to us 
 in the book or scripture of the creation, which no human hand 
 can counterfeit or falsify, and not in the written or printed book 
 which, as Matthew has shown, can be altered or falsified by 
 ignorance or design, is now making its way among us ; and as 
 to government, the light is already gone forth, and whilst men 
 12
 
 178 EXAMINATION OF 
 
 ought to be careful not to be blinded by the excess of it, as at 
 a certain time in France, when everything was Robespierrean 
 violence, they ought to reverence, and even to adore it, with all 
 the firmness and perseverance that true wisdom can inspire. 
 
 I pass on to the seventh passage, called a prophecy of Jesus 
 Christ 
 
 Matthew, chap. viii. ver. 1 6. " When the evening was come, 
 they brought unto him (Jesus) many that were possessed with 
 devils, and he cast out the spirit with his word, and healed all 
 that were sick, That it might be fulfilled which was spoken 
 by Esaias (Isaiah) the prophet, saying, himself took our infirmir 
 ties, and bare our sicknesses." 
 
 This affair of people being possessed by devils, and of cast- 
 ing them out, was the fable of the day when the books of the 
 New Testament were written. It had not existence at any 
 other time. The books of the Old Testament mention no such 
 thing ; the people of the present day know of no such thing ; 
 nor does the history of any people or country speak of such a 
 thing. It starts upon us all at onco in the book of Matthew, 
 and is altogether an invention of the Now Testament-makers 
 and the Christian church. The book of Matthew is the first 
 book where the word D'.vil is mentioned.* AVn road in some 
 of the books of the Old Testament of things called familiar 
 spirits, the supposed companions of people called witches and 
 wizards. It was no other than the trick of pretended conjurors 
 to obtain money from credulous and ignorant people, or the 
 fabricated charge of superstitious malignancy against unfor- 
 tunate and decrepit old age 
 
 But the idea of a familiar spirit, if we can affix any idea to 
 the term, is exceedingly different to that of being possessed by 
 a devil. In the one case, the supposed familiar spirit is a dex- 
 terous agent, that comes and goes and does as he is bidden ; in 
 the other, he is a turbulent roaring monster, that tears and tor- 
 tures the body into convulsions. Reader, whoever thou art, 
 put thy trust in thy Creator, make use of the reason he en- 
 dowed thee with, and cast from thee all such fables. 
 
 The passage alluded to by Matthew, for as a quotation it is 
 false, is in Isaiah, chap. liii. ver. 4, which is as follows : 
 
 "Surely he (the person of whom Isaiah is speaking) hath 
 borne our griefs and carried our sorrows." It is in the preter 
 tense. 
 
 * The word devil is a personification of the word evil.
 
 THE PROPHECIES. 179 
 
 Here is nothing about casting out devils, nor curing of sick- 
 ness. The passage, therefore, so far from being a prophecy of 
 Christ, is not even applicable as a circumstance. 
 
 Isaiah, or at least the writer of the book that bears his name, 
 employs the whole of this chapter, the 53rd, in lamenting the 
 sufferings of some deceased person, of whom he speaks very 
 pathetically. It is a monody on the death of a friend ; but he 
 mentions not the name of the person, nor gives a circumstance 
 of him by which he can be personally known ; and it is this 
 silence, which is evidence of nothing, that Matthew has laid 
 hold of to put the name of Christ to it ; as if the chiefs of the 
 Jews, whose sorrows were then great, and the times they lived 
 in big with danger, were never thinking about their own affairs, 
 nor the fate of their own friends, but were continually running 
 a wild-goose chase into futurity. 
 
 To make a monody into a prophecy is an absurdity. The 
 characters and circumstances of men, even in different ages of 
 the world, are so much alike, that what is said of one may with 
 propriety be said of many ; but this fitness does not make the 
 passage into a prophecy ; and none but an impostor or a bigot 
 would call it so. 
 
 Isaiah, in deploring the hard fate and loss of his friend, men- 
 tions nothing of him but what the human lot of man is subject 
 to. All the cases he states of him, his persecutions, his impris- 
 onment, his patience in suffering, and his perseverance in prin- 
 ciple, are all within the line of nature : they belong exclusively 
 to none, and may with justness be said of many. But if Jesus 
 Christ was the person the church represents him to be, that 
 which would exclusively apply to him, must be something that 
 could not apply to any other person ; something beyond the 
 line of nature ; something beyond the lot of mortal man ; and 
 there are no such expressions in this chapter nor any other 
 chapter in the Old Testament. 
 
 It is no exclusive description to say of a person, as is said of 
 the person Isaiah is lamenting in this chapter, lie, was op- 
 pressed and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth ; he is 
 brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheen before his 
 shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth." This may be 
 said of thousands of persons, who have suffered oppressions and 
 unjust death with patience, silence and perfect resignation. 
 
 Grotius, whom the bishop esteems a most learned man. and 
 who certainly was so, supposes that f it> 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 <f Sion, behold 
 thi/ king cometh imto thee meek, and sitting upon an ass, and a 
 colt, the foal of an ass." 
 
 Poor ass! let it be some consolation amidst all thy sufferings, 
 that if the heathen world erected a bear into a constellation, the 
 Christian world has elevated thee into a prophecy. 
 
 This passage is in Zechariah, chap. ix. ver. 9, and is one of 
 the whims of friend Zechariah to congratulate his countrymen, 
 who were then returning from captivity in Babylon, and him- 
 self with them, to Jerusalem. It has no concern with any 
 other subject. It is strange that apostles, priests, and commeri- 
 tators, never permit, or never suppose, the Jews to be speaking 
 of their own affairs. Everything in the Jewish books is per- 
 verted and distorted into meanings never intended by the writers. 
 Even the poor ass must not be a Jew-ass but a Christian-ass. I 
 wonder they did not make an apostle of him, or a bishop, or 
 at least make him speak and prophesy. He could have lifted up 
 his voice as loud as any of them. 
 
 Zechariah,- in the first chapter of his book, indulges himself 
 in several whims on the joy of getting back to Jerusalem. Ho 
 says at the 8th verse, " I saw by night (Zechariah was a sharp- 
 sighted seer) and behold a man setting on a red horse (yes, reader, 
 a red horse), and he stood among the myrtle trees that were in 
 the bottom, and behind him were red horses speckled and white." 
 He says nothing about green horses nor blue horses, perhaps 
 because it is difficult to distinguish green from blue by night, 
 but a Christian can have no doubt they were there, because 
 "jaith is the evidence of things not seen." 
 
 Zechariah then introduces an angel among his horses, but he 
 does not tell us what color the angel was of, whether black or 
 white, nor whether he came to buy horses, or only to look at 
 them as curiosities, for certainly they were of that kind. Be 
 this however as it may, he enters into conversation with this 
 angel on the joyful affair of getting back to Jerusalem, and he 
 saith at the 16th verse, " Therefore, thus saith the Lord / am 
 returned to Jerusalem with mercies; my house shall be built in 
 it saith the Lord of hosts, and a line shall be stretched fo^ 1 ' 
 upon Jerusalem." An expression signifying 
 city.
 
 184 EXAMINATION OF 
 
 All this, whimsical and imaginary as it is, sufficiently proves 
 that it was the entry of the Jews into Jerusalem from captivity, 
 and not the entry of Jesus Christ, seven hundred years after- 
 wards, that is the subject upon which Zechariah is always 
 speaking. 
 
 As to the expression of riding upon an ass, which commenta- 
 tors represent as a sign of humility in Jesus Christ, the case is, 
 he never was so well mounted before. The asses of those coun- 
 tries are large and well-proportioned, and were anciently the 
 chief of riding animals. Their beasts of burden, and which 
 served also for the conveyance of the poor, were camels and 
 dromedaries. We read in Judges, chap. x. ver. 4, that " Jair 
 (one of the Judges of Israel) had thirty sons that rode on thirty 
 ass-colts, and they had thirty cities." But commentators distort 
 everything. 
 
 There is besides very reasonable grounds to conclude that this 
 story of Jesus riding publicly into Jerusalem, accompanied, as 
 it is said at the 8th and 9th verses, by a great multitude, shout- 
 ing and rejoicing, and spreading their garments by the way, is 
 altogether a story destitute of truth. 
 
 In the last passage called a prophecy that I examined, Jesus 
 is represented as withdrawing, that is, running away, and con- 
 cealing himself for fear of being apprehended, and charging the 
 people that were with him not to make him known. No new 
 circumstance had arisen in the interim to change his condition 
 for the better; yet here he is represented as making his public 
 entry into the same city from which he had fled for safety. The 
 two cases contradict each other so much, that if both are not 
 false, one of them at least can scarcely be true. For my own 
 part, I do not believe there is one word of historical truth in 
 the whole book. I look upon it at best to be a romance, the 
 principal personage of which is an imaginary or allegorical char- 
 acter founded upon some tale, and in which the moral is in many 
 parts good, and the narrative part very badly and blunderingly 
 written. 
 
 I pass on to the tenth passage, called a prophecy of Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 Matthew, chap. xxvi. ver. 51. " And behold one of them 
 which was with Jesus (meaning Peter) stretched out his 
 hand, and drew his sword, and struck a servant of the high 
 priest, and smote off his ear. Then said Jesus unto him, 
 Put up again thy sword into its place, for all they that take
 
 THE PROPHECIES. 185 
 
 the sword shall perish with the sword. Thinkest thou that 
 I cannot now pray to my Father, and he shall presently give 
 me more than twelve legions of angels. But how then shall 
 the scriptures be fulfilled that thus it must be. In that same 
 hour Jesus said to the multitudes, are ye come out as against 
 a thief, with swords and with staves for to take me? I sat 
 daily with you teaching in the temple, and ye laid no hold 
 on me. But all this was done that the scriptures of the pro- 
 phets might be fulfilled." 
 
 This loose and general manner of speaking, admits neither of 
 detection nor of proof. Here is no quotation given, nor the 
 name of any Bible author mentioned, to which reference can 
 be had. 
 
 There are, however, some high improbabilities against the 
 truth of the account. 
 
 First It is not probable that the Jews, who were then a 
 conquered people, and under subjection to the Romans, should 
 be permitted to wear swords. 
 
 Secondly If Peter had attacked the servant of the high 
 priest and cut off his ear, he would have been immediately 
 taken up by the guard that took up his master and sent to 
 prison with him. 
 
 Thirdly What sort of disciples and preaching aposcles must 
 those of Christ have been that wore swords ? 
 
 Fourthly This scene is represented to have taken place the 
 game evening of what is called the Lord's supper, which makes, 
 according to the ceremony of it, the inconsistency of wearing 
 swords the greater. 
 
 I pass on to the eleventh passage called a prophecy of Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 Matthew, chap, xxvii. ver. 3. " Then Judas which had be- 
 trayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented 
 himself, and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the 
 chief priests and elders, saying, I have sinned in that I have 
 betrayed the innocent blood. And they said, What is that to 
 us, see thou to that. And he cast down the thirty pieces of 
 silver, and departed, and went and hanged himself And the 
 chief priests took the silver pieces and said, it is not lawful to 
 put them into the treasury, because it is the pi-ice of blood 
 And they took counsel and bought with them the potter's 
 field to bury strangers in Wherefore that field is called the 
 field of blood unto this clay. Then was fulfilled that which
 
 186 EXAMINATION OF 
 
 was spoken by Jeremiah the prophet, saying, And they took 
 the thirty pieces of silver, the price of him' that was valued, 
 whom they of the children of Israel did value, and gave them 
 for the potter's field, as the Lord appointed me." 
 
 This is a most barefaced piece of imposition. The passage 
 in Jeremiah which speaks of the purchase of a field, has no 
 more to do with the case to which Matthew applies it, than it 
 has to do with the purchase of lands in America. I will recite 
 the whole passage : 
 
 Jeremiah, chap, xxxii. v. 6. " And Jeremiah said, the word 
 of the Lord came unto me, saying Behold Hanamiel, the son 
 of Shallum thine uncle, shall come unto thee, saying, buy thee 
 my field that is in Anathoth, for the right of redemption is 
 thine to buy it So Hanamiel mine uncle's son came to me in 
 the court of the prison, according to the word of the Lord, and 
 said unto me, buy my field I pray thee that is in Anathoth, 
 which is in the country of Benjamin, for the right of inheri- 
 tance is thine, and the redemption is thine ; buy it for thyself. 
 Then T knew this was the word of the Lord And I bought 
 the field of Hanamiel mine uncle's son, that was jn Anathoth, 
 and weighed him the money, even seventeen shekels of silver 
 and I subscribed the evidence and sealed it, and took witnesses 
 and weighed him the money in balances. So I took the evi- 
 dence of the purchase, both that which was sealed according to 
 the law and custom, and that which was open and I gave the 
 evidence of the purchase unto Baruch, the son of Neriah, the 
 son of Maasaeiath, in the sight of Hanamiel mine uncle's son, 
 and in the presence of the witnesses that subscribed, before all 
 the Jews that sat in the court of the prison and I charged 
 Baruch before them, saying, Thus saith the Lord of hosts, the 
 God of Israel, Take these evidences, this evidence of the pur- 
 chase both which is sealed, and this evidence which is open, and 
 put them in an earthen vessel, that they may continue many 
 days for thus saith the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, 
 houses, and fields, and vineyards, shall be possessed again in 
 this land." 
 
 I forbear making any remark on this abominable imposition 
 of Matthew. The thing glaringly speaks for itself. It is priests 
 and commentators that I rather ought to censure, for having 
 preached falsehood so long, and kept people in darkness with 
 respect to those impositions. I am not contending with these 
 men upon points of doctrine, for I know that sophistry has aJ-
 
 THE PROPHECIES. 187 
 
 ways a city of refuge. I am speaking of facts : for wherever 
 the thing called a fact is a falsehood, the faith founded upon it 
 is delusion, and the doctrine raised upon it not true. Ah, 
 reader, put thy trust in thy Creator, and thou wilt be safe ! but 
 if thou trustest to the book called the scriptures, thou trustest 
 to the rotten staff of fable and falsehood. But I return to my 
 subject. 
 
 There is, among the whims and reveries of Zechariah, men- 
 tion made, of thirty pieces of silver given to a potter. They 
 can hardly have been so stupid as to mistake a potter for a 
 field : and if they had, the passage in Zechariah has no more 
 to do with Jesus, Judas, and the field to bury strangers in, 
 than that already quoted. I will recite the passage. 
 
 Zechariah, chap. xi. ver. 7. "And I will feed the flock of 
 slaughter, even you, O poor of the flock ; and I took unto me 
 two staves ; the one I called Beauty, and the other I called 
 Bands, and I fed the flock Three shepherds also, I cut off in 
 one month ; and my soul loathed them, and their soul also 
 abhorred me. Then said I, I will not feed you ; that which 
 dieth, let it die ; and that which is to be cut off, let it be cut 
 off ; and let the rest eat every one the flesh of another. And 
 I took my staff, even Beauty, and cut it asunder, that I might 
 break my covenant which I had made with all the people. 
 And it was broken in that day ; and so the poor of the flock 
 who waited upon me, knew that it was the word of the Lord. 
 
 " And I said unto them, if ye think good give me my price, 
 and if not, forbear. So they weighed for my price thirty pieces 
 of silver. And the Lord said unto me, cast it unto the potter, 
 a goodly price that I was prized at of them ; and I took the 
 thirty pieces of silver and cast them to the potter in the house 
 of the Lord. 
 
 "Then I cut asunder mine other staff, even Bands, that I 
 might break the brotherhood between Judah and Israel."* 
 
 * Whiston, in his Essay on the Old Testament, says, that the passage of 
 Zechariah of which I have spoken, was in the copies of the Bible of the first 
 century, in the book of Jeremiah, from whence, says he, it was taken and 
 inserted without coherence, in that of Zechariah well, let it be so, it does 
 not make the case a whit the better for the New Testament ; but it makes 
 the case a great deal the worse for the old. Because it shows as I have 
 mentioned respecting some passages in a book ascribed to Isaiah, that the 
 works of different authors have been so mixed and confounded together, 
 they cannot now be discriminated, except where they are historical, chrono- 
 logical, or biographical, as in the interpolation in Isaiah. It is the name of 
 Cyrus inserted where it could not be inserted, as he was not in existence till
 
 188 EXAMINATION OF 
 
 There is no making either head or tail of this incoherent 
 gibberish. His two staves, one called Beauty and the other 
 Bands, is so much like a fairy tale, that I doubt if it had any 
 other origin. There is, however, no part that has the least re- 
 lation to the case stated in Matthew ; on the contrary, it is the 
 reverse of it. Here the thirty pieces of silver, whatever it 
 was for, is called a goodly price, it was as much as the thing 
 was worth, and according to the language of the day. was ap- 
 proved of by the Lord, and the money given to the potter in 
 the house of the Lord. In the case of Jesus and Judas, as 
 stated in Matthew, the thirty pieces of silver were the price 
 of blood ; the transaction was condemned by the Lord, and 
 the money when refunded, was refused admittance into the 
 Treasury. Everything in the two cases is the reverse of each 
 other. 
 
 Besides this, a very different and direct contrary account to 
 that of Matthew, is given of the affair of Judas, in the book 
 called the Acts of the Apostles , according no that book, the case 
 is, that so far from Judas repenting and returning the money, 
 and the high priest buying a field with it to bury strangers in, 
 Judas kept the money and bought a field with it for himself ; 
 and instead of hanging himself, as Matthew says, he fell head- 
 long and burst asunder some commentators endeavor to get 
 over one part of the contradiction by ridiculously supposing 
 that Judas hanged himself first and the rope broke. 
 
 Acts, chap. i. ver. 16. "Men and brethren, this scripture 
 must needs have been fulfilled which the Holy Ghost by the 
 
 one hundred and fifty years after the time of Isaiah, that detects the inter- 
 polation and the blunder with it. 
 
 Whiston was a man of great literary learning, and what is of much higher 
 degree, of scientific learning. He was one of the best and most celebrated 
 mathematicians of his time, for which he was made professor of mathema- 
 tics of the University of Cambridge. He wrote so much in defence of the 
 Old Testament, and of what he calls prophecies of Jesus Christ, that at 
 last he began to suspect the truth of the Scriptures, and wrote against them ; 
 for it is only those who examine them, that see the imposition. Those who 
 believe them most, are those who know least about them. 
 
 Whiston, after writing BO much in defence of the Scriptures, was at last 
 prosecuted for writing against them. It was this lhat gave occasion to 
 Swift, in his ludicrous epigram on Ditton and Whiston, each of which set 
 up to find out the longitude, to call the one good master Ditton and the other 
 wirki'd Will Whiston. But as Swift was a great associate with the Free- 
 thinkers of those days such as Bollingbroke, Pope, and others, who did not 
 believe the book called the scriptures, there is no certainty whether he wit- 
 tily called him wicked for defending the scriptures, or for writing against 
 thiu. The known character of Swift decides for the former.
 
 THE PROPHECIES. 189 
 
 4 mouth of David spake before concerning Judas, which was a 
 guide to them that took Jesus. (David says not a word about 
 Judas,) ver. 17, for he (Judas) was numbered among us and 
 obtained part of our ministry." 
 
 Ver. 18 " Now this man purchased a field with the reward 
 of iniquity, and falling headlong, he burst asunder in the midst, 
 and his bowels gushed out." Is it not a species of blasphemy 
 to call the New Testament revealed religion, when we see in it 
 such contradictions and absurdities. 
 
 I pass on to the twelfth passage called a prophecy of Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 Matthew, chap, xxvii. ver. 35. "And they crucified him, 
 and parted his garments, casting lots ; that it might be fulfilled 
 which was spoken by the prophet, They parted my garments 
 among them, and ^ipon my vesture did they cast lots." This 
 expression is in the 22nd Psalm, ver. 18. The writer of that 
 Psalm (whoever he was, for the Psalms are a collection and 
 not the work of one man) is speaking of himself and his own 
 case, and not that of another He begins this Psalm with the 
 words which the New Testament writers ascribed to Jesus 
 Christ. " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me" 
 words which might be uttered by a complaining man without 
 any great impropriety, but very improperly from the mouth of 
 a reputed God. 
 
 The picture which the writer draws of his own situation in 
 this Psalm, is gloomy enough. He is not prophecying, but 
 complaining of his own hard case. He represents himself as 
 surrounded by enemies, and beset by persecutions of every 
 kind ; and by way of showing the inveteracy of his persecutors, 
 he says, at the 18th verse, "They parted my garments among 
 them, and cast lots upon my vesture." The expression is in the 
 present tense ; and is the same as to say, they pursue me even 
 to the clothes upon my back, and dispute how they shall divide 
 them; besides, the word vesture does not always mean cloth Ing 
 of any kind, but property, or rather the admitting a man to, or 
 investing him with property; and as it is used in this Psalm 
 distinct from the word garment, it appears to be used in this 
 sense. But Jesus had no property ; for they make him sa\ of 
 himself, "The foxes have holes and the birds of the air /t&ve 
 nests, but the Son of Man hath not where to lay his head." 
 
 But be this as it may, if we permit ourselves to suppose the 
 Almighty would condescend to tell, by what is called the spirit
 
 190 EXAMINATION OF 
 
 of prophecy, what could come to pass in some future age of the 
 world, it is an injury to our own faculties, and to our ideas of 
 his greatness, to imagine that it would be about an old coat, or 
 an old pair of breeches, or about anything which the common 
 accidents of life, or the quarrels that attend it, exhibit every 
 day. 
 
 That which is in the power of man to do, or in his will not 
 to do, is not a subject for prophecy, even if there were such a 
 tiling, because it cannot carry with it any evidence of divine 
 power, or divine interposition : The ways of God are not the 
 ways of men. That which an almighty power performs, or 
 wills, is not within the circle of human power to do, or to con- 
 trol. But any executioner and his assistants might quarrel 
 about dividing the garments of a sufferer, or divide them with- 
 out quarrelling, and by that means fulfil the thing called a 
 prophecy or set it aside. 
 
 In the passage before examined, I have exposed the false- 
 hood of them. In this I exhibit its degrading meanness, as an 
 insult to the Creator and an injury to human reason. 
 
 Here end the passages called prophecies by Matthew. 
 
 Matthew concludes his book by saying,, that when Christ 
 expired on the cross, the rocks rent, the graves opened, and the 
 bodies of many of the saints arose ; and Mark says, there was 
 darkness over the land from the sixth hour until the ninth. 
 They produce no prophecy for this; but had these things been 
 facts, they would have been a proper subject for prophecy, be- 
 cause none but an almighty power could have inspired a fore- 
 knowledge of them, and afterwards fulfilled them. Since then 
 there is no such prophecy, but a pretended prophecy of an old 
 coat, the proper deduction is, there were no such things, and 
 that the book of Matthew is fable and falsehood. 
 
 I pass on to the book called the Gospel according to St. 
 Mark. 
 
 THE BOOK OF MARK. 
 
 THERE are but few passages in Mark called prophecies, and 
 but few in Luke and John. Such as there are I shall examine, 
 and also such other passages as interfere with those cited by 
 Matthew. 
 
 Mark begins his book by a passage which he puts in the 
 shape of a prophecy. Mark, chap. i. verse 1. "The begin-
 
 THE PROPHECIES. 191 
 
 ning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God As it is 
 written in the prophets, Behold I send my messenger before thy 
 face, which shall prepare the way before thee." Malachi, chap, 
 iii. verse 1. The passage in the original is in the first person. 
 Mark makes this passage to be a prophecy of John the Baptist, 
 said by the Church to be a forerunner of Jesus Christ. But if 
 we attend to the verses that follow this expression, as it stands 
 in Malachi, and to the first and fifth verses of the next chapter, 
 we shall see that this application of it is erroneous and false. 
 
 Malachi having said, at the first verse, " Behold I will send 
 my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me," says, 
 at the second verse, " But who may abide the day of his com- 
 ing ? and who shall stand when he appeareth 1 for he is like a 
 refiner's fire, and like fuller's soap." 
 
 This description can have no reference to the birth of Jesus 
 Christ, and consequently none to John the Baptist. It is a 
 scene of fear and terror that is here described, and the birth of 
 Christ is always spoken of as a time of joy and glad tidings. 
 
 Malachi, continuing to speak on the same subject, explains 
 in the next chapter what the scene is of which he speaks in the 
 verses above quoted, and whom the person is whom he calls the 
 messenger. 
 
 "Behold," says he, chap. iv. vei'se 1, "the day cometh that 
 shall burn like an oven, and all the proud, yea, and all that do 
 wickedly, shall be stubble ; and the day cometh that shall burn 
 them up, said the Lord of hosts, that it shall leave them neither 
 root nor branch." 
 
 Verse 5. " Behold I will send you Elijah the prophet before 
 the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord." 
 
 By what right, or by what imposition or ignorance Mark has 
 made Elijah into John the Baptist, and Malachi's description , 
 of the day of judgment into the birthday of Christ, I leave to! 
 the Bishop to settle. 
 
 Mark, in the second and third verses of his first chapter, 
 confounds two passages together, taken from different books of 
 the Old Testament. The second verse, "Behold I send my 
 messenger before thy face, which shall prepare the way before 
 me," is taken, as I have said before, from Malachi. The third 
 verse, which says, " The voice of one crying in the wilderness, 
 prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his path straight," is not 
 in Malachi, but in Isaiah, chap. xi. verse 3. Whiston says 
 that both of these verses were originally in Isaiah, If so, it is
 
 192 EXAMINATION OF 
 
 another instance of the disordered state of the Bible, and cor- 
 roborates what I have said with respect to the name and 
 description of Cyrus being in the book of Isaiah, to which it 
 cannot chronologically belong. 
 
 The words in Isaiah, chap. xl. verse 3, " The voice of him 
 that crieth in the wilderness, prepare ye the way of the Lord, 
 make his path straight" are in the present tense, and conse- 
 quently not predictive. It is one of those rhetorical figures 
 which the Old Testament authors frequently used. That it is 
 merely rhetorical and metaphorical, may be seen at the 6th 
 verse. "And the voice said, cry; and he said, what shall I 
 cry? All flesh is grass." This is evidently nothing but a 
 figure, for flesh is not grass otherwise than as a figure or meta- 
 phor, where one thing is put for another. Besides which, the 
 whole passage is too general and declamatory to be applied 
 exclusively to any particular person or purpose. 
 
 I pass on to the eleventh chapter. 
 
 In this chapter, Mark speaks of Christ riding into Jerusalem 
 upon a colt, but he does not make it the accomplishment of a 
 prophecy, as Matthew has done; for he says nothing about a 
 prophecy. Instead of which he goes on the other tack, and in 
 order to add new honors to the ass, he makes it to be a miracle ; 
 for he says, ver. 2, it was "a colt whereon never man sat;" 
 signifying thereby, that as the ass had not been broken, he con- 
 sequently was inspired into good manners, for we do not hear 
 that he kicked Jesus Christ off. There is not a word about his 
 kicking in all the four Evangelists. 
 
 I pass on from these feats of horsemanship, performed upon 
 a jack-ass, to the 15th chapter. 
 
 At the 24th verse of this chapter, Mark speaks of parting 
 Christ's garments and casting lots upon them,, but he applies no 
 prophecy to it as Matthew does. He rather speaks of it as a 
 thing then in practice with executioners, as it is at this day. 
 
 At the 28th verse of the same chapter, Mark speaks of Christ 
 being crucified between two thieves ; that, says he, " the scrip- 
 tures might be fulfilled which saith, and he was numbered with 
 the transgressors" The same thing might be said of the thieves. 
 
 This expression is in Isaiah, chap. liii. ver. 12 Grotius ap- 
 plies it to Jeremiah. But the case has happened so often in 
 the world, where innocent men have been numbered with trans- 
 gressors, and is still continually happening, that it is absurdity 
 to call it a prophecy of any particular person. All those whom
 
 THE PROPHECIES. 193 
 
 the church call martyrs were numbered wit a transgressors. All 
 the honest patriots who fell upon the scaffold in France, in the 
 time of Robespierre, were numbered with transgressors ; and if 
 himself had not fallen, the same case, according to a note in his 
 own handwriting, had befallen me ; yet I suppose the bishop 
 will not allow that Isaiah was prophesying of Thomas Paine. 
 
 These are all the passages in Mark which have any reference 
 to prophecies. 
 
 Mark concludes his book by making Jesus say to his disci- 
 ples, chap. xvi. ver. 15, "Go ye into all the world and preach 
 the gospel to every creature ; he that believeth and is baptized 
 shall be saved, but he that believeth not shall be damned (fine 
 Popish stuff this), and these signs shall follow them that be- 
 lieve ; in my name they shall cast out devils ; tUfey shall speak 
 with new tongues ; they shall take up serpents, and if they drink 
 any deadly thing it shall not hurt them ; they shall lay hands 
 on the sick, and they shall recover." 
 
 Now, the bishop, in order to know if he has all this saving 
 and wonder-working faith, should try those things upon him- 
 self. He should take a good dose of arsenic, and if he please, 
 I will send him a rattle-snake from America ! As for myself, 
 as I believe in God and not at all in Jesus Christ, nor in the 
 books called the scriptures, the experiment does not concern me. 
 
 I pass on to the book of Luke. 
 
 There are no passages in Luke called prophecies, excepting 
 those which relate to the passages I have already examined. 
 
 Luke speaks of Mary being espoused to Joseph, but he makes 
 no references to the passage in Isaiah, as Matthew does. He 
 speaks also of Jesus riding into Jerusalem upon a colt, but he 
 says nothing about a prophecy. He speaks of John the Baptist, 
 and refers to the passage in Isaiah of which I have already 
 spoken. 
 
 At the 13th chapter, verse 31, he says, "The same day there 
 came certain of the Pharisees, saying unto him (Jesus) get thee 
 out and depart hence, for Herod will kill thee and he said unto 
 them, go ye and tell that fox, behold I cast out devils and I do 
 cures to-day and to-morrow, and the third day I shall be per- 
 fected." 
 
 Matthew makes Herod to die whilst Christ was a child in 
 
 Egypt, and makes Joseph to return with the child on the news 
 
 of Herod's death, who had sought to kill him. Luke makes 
 
 Herod to be living, and to seek the life of Jesus after Jesus 
 
 13
 
 194 EXAMINATION OF 
 
 was thirty years of age: for he says, chap. iii. v. 23, "And 
 Jesus began to be about thirty years of age, being, as was sup- 
 posed, the son of Joseph." 
 
 The obscurity in which the historical part of the New Testa- 
 ment is involved with respect to Herod, may afford to priests 
 and commentators a plea, which to some may appear plausible, 
 but to none satisfactory, that the Herod of which Matthew 
 speaks, and the Herod of which Luke speaks, were different 
 persons. Matthew calls Herod a king ; and Luke, chap. iii. v. 
 1, calls Herod Tetrarch (that is, Governor) of Galilee. But 
 there could be no such person as a king Herod, because the Jews 
 and their country were under the dominion of the Roman Em- 
 perors who governed them by Tetrarchs or Governors. 
 
 Luke, chap.'ii. makes Jesus to be born when Cyrenius was 
 Governor of Syria, to which government Judea was annexed, 
 and according to this, Jesus was not born in the time of Herod. 
 Luke says nothing about Herod seeking the life of Jesus when 
 he was born ; nor of his destroying the children under two years 
 old ; nor of Joseph fleeing with Jesus into Egypt : nor of his 
 returning from thence. On the contrary, the book of Luke 
 speaks as if the person it calls Christ had never been out of 
 Judea, and that Herod sought his life after he commenced 
 preaching, as is before stated. I have already shown that Luke, 
 in the book called the Acts of the Apostles (which commenta- 
 tors ascribe to Luke), contradicts the account in Matthew, with 
 respect to Judas and the thirty pieces of silver. Matthew says, 
 that Judas returned the money, and that the high priests bought 
 with it a field to bury strangers in. Luke says, that Judas kept 
 the money, and bought a field with it for himself. 
 
 As it is impossible the wisdom of God should err, so it is 
 impossible those books should have been written by divine in- 
 spiration. Our belief in God, and his unerring wisdom, forbids 
 us to believe it. As for myself, I feel religiously happy in the 
 total disbelief of it. 
 
 There are no other passages called prophecies in Luke than 
 those I have spoken of. I pass on to the book of John. 
 
 THE BOOK OF JOHN. 
 
 JOHN, like Mark and Luke, is not much of a prophecy- 
 monger. He speaks of the ass, and the casting lots for Jesus' 
 clothes, and some other trifles, of which I have already spoken.
 
 THE PROPHECIES. 195 
 
 John makes Jesus to say, chap. v. ver. 46,. "For had ye Re- 
 lieved Moses, ye would have believed me, for he wrote of me." 
 The book of the Acts, in speaking of Jesus, says, chap. iii. ver. 
 22, "For Moses truly said unto the fathers, a prophet shall the 
 Lord your God raise up unto you, of your brethren, like unto 
 me, him shall ye hear in all things whatsoever he shall say unto 
 you." 
 
 This passage is in Deuteronomy, chap, xviii. ver. 15. They 
 apply it as a prophecy of Jesus. What imposition ! The per- 
 son spoken of in Deuteronomy, and also in Numbers, wiiere 
 the same person is spoken of, is Joshua, the minister of Moses, 
 and his immediate successor, and just such another Robespier- 
 rean character as Moses is represented to have been. The case, 
 as related in those books, is as follows : 
 
 Moses was grown old and near to his end, and in order to 
 prevent confusion after his death, for the Israelites had no set- 
 tled system of government, it was thought best to nominate a 
 successor to Moses while he was yet living. This was done, as 
 we are told, in the following manner : 
 
 Numbers, chap, xxvii. ver. 12. "And the Lord said unto 
 Moses, get thee up into this mount Abarim, and see tlie land 
 which I have given unto the children of Israel and when thou 
 hast seen it, thou also shalt be gathered unto thy people, as 
 Aaron thy brother is gathered, ver. 15, And Moses spake unto 
 the Lord, saying, Let the Lord, the God of the spirits of all 
 flesh, set a man over the congregation Which may go out be- 
 fore them, and which may go in before them, and which may 
 lead them out, and which may bring them in. that the congre- 
 gation of the Lord be not as sheep that have no shepherd 
 And the Lord said unto Moses, take thee Joshua, the son of 
 Nun, a man in whom is the spirit, and lay thine hand upon 
 him and set him before Eleazar, the priest, and before all the 
 congregation, and give him a charge in their sight and thou 
 shalt put some of thine honor upon him, that all the congre- 
 gation of the children of Israel may be obedient ver. 22, and 
 Moses did as the Lord commanded, and he took Joshua, and set 
 him before Eleazar the priest, and before all the congregation ; 
 and he laid hands upon him, and gave him charge as the Lord 
 commanded by the hand of Moses." 
 
 I have nothing to do, in this place, with the truth, or the 
 conjuration here practised, of raising up a successor to Moses 
 like unto himself. The passage sufficiently proves it is Josliup,
 
 196 EXAMINATION OF 
 
 and that it is an imposition in John to make the case into ft 
 prophecy of Jesus. But the prophecy-mongers were so inspired 
 with falsehood, that they never speak truth.* 
 
 I pass to the last passage in these fables of the Evangelists 
 called a prophecy of Jesus Christ. 
 
 John, having spoken of Jesus expiring on the cross between 
 two thieves, says, chap. xix. verse 32, " Then came the soldiers 
 and brake the legs of the first (meaning one of the thieves) and 
 of the other which was crucified with him But when they came 
 to Jesus, and saw that he was dead already, they brake not his 
 legs verse 36, for these things were done that the Scriptures- 
 should be fulfilled, A bone of him shall not be broken." 
 
 The passage here referred to is in Exodus, and has no more 
 to do with Jesus than with the ass he rode upon to Jerusalem ; 
 nor yet so much, if a roasted jack-ass, like a roasted he-goat, 
 might be eaten at a Jewish passover. It might be some con- 
 solation to an ass to know that though his bones might be picked 
 they would not be broken. I go to state the case. 
 
 Newton, Bishop of Bristol in England, published a work in three vol- 
 mes, entitled. "Dissertations on the Prophecii 
 
 written and tiresome to read. He strains hard to make every passage into 
 a prophecy that suits his purpose Among others, he makes this expression 
 of Moses, "the Lord shall raise thee up a prophet like unto me," into a pro- 
 
 phecies." The work is tediously 
 hard to make every passage into 
 g others, he makes this expression 
 prophet like unto me," into a pro- 
 phecy of Christ, who was not born, according to the Bible chronologies, till 
 fifteen hundred and fifty-two years after the time of Moses, whereas it was 
 an immediate successor to Moses, who was then near his end, that is spokea 
 of in the passage above quoted. 
 
 This Bishop, the better to impose this passage on the world as a prophecy 
 of Christ, has entirely omitted the account in the book of Numbers which I 
 have given at length, word for word, and which shows, beyond the possi- 
 bility of a doubt, that the person spoken of by Moses, is Joshua, and no 
 other person. 
 
 Newton is but a superficial writer. He takes up things upon hearsay, and 
 inserts them without either examination or reflection, and the more extra- 
 ordinary and incredible they are, the better he likes them. 
 
 In speaking of the walls of Babylon (volume the first, page 263), he 
 makes a quotation from a traveller of the name of Tavernur, whom he call* 
 (by way of giving credit to what he says), a celebrated traveller, that those 
 walls were made of burnt brick, ten feet square and three feet thick. If New ton 
 had only thought of calculating the weight of such a brick, he would have 
 seen the impossibility of their being used or even made. A brick ten feet 
 square, and three feet thick, contains three hundred cubic feet, and allow- 
 ing a cubic foot of brick to be only one hundred pounds, each of the Bishop'* 
 bricks would weigh thirty thousand pounds ; and it would take auout thirty 
 cart loads of clay (one-horse carts) to make one brick. 
 
 But his account of the stones used in the building of Solomon's temple, 
 (volume 2nd, page 211), far exceeds his bricks of ten feet square in the wall* 
 of Habylon ; these are but brick-bats compared to them. 
 
 The tne (days he) employed in the foiuiuatiou, were in magnitude forty
 
 THE PROPHECIES. 197 
 
 The book of Exodus, in instituting the Jewish passover, in 
 which they were to eat a he-lamb or a he-goat, says, chap xii. 
 verse 5, " Your lamb shall be without blemish, a male of the 
 first year: ye shall take it from the sheep or from the goats." 
 
 The book, after stating some ceremonies to be used in killing 
 and dressing it (for it was to be roasted, not boiled), says, ver. 
 43, " And the Lord said unto Moses and Aaron, this is the 
 ordinance of the passover : there shall no stranger eat thereof ; 
 but every man's servant that is bought for money, when thou 
 hast circumcised him, then shall he eat thereof. A foreigner 
 shall not eat thereof. In one house shall it be eaten ; thou saalt 
 not carry forth ought of the flesh thereof abroad out of the house; 
 neither shalt thou break a bone thereof." 
 
 We here see that the case as it stands in Exodus is a cere- 
 mony and not a prophecy, and totally unconnected with Jesus' 
 bones, or any part of him. 
 
 John, having thus filled up the measure of apostolic fable, 
 
 cubits, that is, above sixty feet, a cubit, says he, being somewhat more than 
 one foot and a half (a cubit is one foot nine inches,/, and the superstructure 
 (says this Bishop) was worthy of such foundations. There were some 
 stones, says he, of the whitest marble, forty-five cubits long;, five cubits high, 
 and six cubits broad. These are the dimensions this Bishop has given, 
 which in measure of twelve inches to a foot, is 78 feet 9 inches long, ll> 
 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, <kc., chap, xxv., ver. 3 ; and in one of the pre- 
 tended prophecies I have just examined, God is made to give- 
 directions how they should kill, cook, and eat a he-lamb or a 
 he-goat. And Ezekiel, chap, iv., to fill up the measure of 
 abominable absurdity, makes God to order him to take wheat 
 and barley, and beans and lentiles, and millet, and fitches, and 
 make a loaf or a cake thereof, and bake it with human dung and 
 eat it; but as Ezekiel complained that this mess was too strong 
 for his stomach, the matter was compromised from man's dung 
 to cow's dung, Ezekiel chap. iv. Compare all this ribaldry,, 
 blasphemously called the word of God, with the Almighty 
 power that created the universe, and whose eternal wisdom 
 directs and governs all its mighty movements, and we shall be- 
 at a loss to find a name sufficiently contemptible for it. 
 
 In the promises which the Old Testament pretends that God 
 made to his people, the same derogatory ideas of him prevail. 
 It makes God to promise to Abraham that his seed should be 
 like the stars in heaven and the sand on the sea shore for 
 multitude, and that he would give them the land of Canaan as 
 their inheritance for ever. But observe, reader, how the per- 
 formance of this promise was to begin, and then ask thine own 
 reason, if the wisdom cf God, whose power is equal to his will, 
 could consistently with that power, and that wisdom, make 
 such a promise. 
 
 The performance of the promise was to begin, according to> 
 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, 
 <kc. How then does it happen, that they do not adopt the 
 names found in the first ten chapters ? Here is evidently a line 
 of division drawn between the first ten chapters of Genesis, and 
 the remaining chapters, with respect to the adoption of names. 
 There must be some cause for this, and I go to offer a solution 
 of the problem. 
 
 The reader will recollect the quotation I have already made 
 from the Jewish Rabbin, Maimonides, wherein he says, " We 
 ought not to understand nor to take according to the letter that 
 which is written in the book of the creation. It is a maxim 
 (says he) which all our sages repeat above all, with respect to 
 the work of six days." 
 
 The qualifying expression above all, implies there are other 
 parts of the book, though not so important, that ought not to be 
 understood or taken according to the letter, and as the Jews do 
 not adopt the names mentioned in the first ten chapters, it 
 appears evident those chapters are included in the injunction 
 not to take them in a literal sense, or according to the letter ; 
 from which it follows, that the persons or characters mentioned 
 in the first ten chapters, as Adam, Abel, Seth, Enoch, Methu- 
 
 * Noah ia an exception ; there are many of that name among the Jews. 
 EDITOB.
 
 BISHOP OF LLANDAFF. 221 
 
 elah, and so on to Noah, are not real but fictitious or allegorical 
 persons, and, therefore, the Jews do not adopt their names into 
 their famlies. If they affixed the same idea of reality to them 
 as they do to those that follow after the tenth chapter, the 
 names of Adam, Abel, Seth, &c., would be as common among 
 the Jews of the present day, as are those of Abraham, Isaac, 
 Jacob, Moses and Aaron. 
 
 In the superstition they have been in, scarcely a Jew family 
 would have been without an Enoch, as a presage of his going to 
 heaven as ambassador for the whole family. Every mother who 
 wished that the days of her son might be long in the land would 
 call him Methuselah ; and all the Jews that might have to tra- 
 verse the ocean would be named Noah, as a charm against ship- 
 wreck and drowning. 
 
 This is domestic evidence against the book of Genesis, which 
 joined to the several kinds of evidence before recited, shows 
 the book of Genesis not to be older than the Babylonian cap- 
 tivity, and to be fictitious. I proceed to fix the character and 
 antiquity of the book of 
 
 JOB. 
 
 The book of Job has not the least appearance of being a book 
 of the Jews, and though printed among the books of the Bible, 
 does not belong to it. There is no reference in it to any Jew- 
 ish law or ceremony. On the contrary, all the internal evidence 
 it contains shows it to be a book of the Gentiles, either of 
 Persia or Chaldea. 
 
 The name of Job does not appear to be a Jewish name. 
 There is no Jew of that name in any of the books of the Bible, 
 neither is there now that I ever heard of. The country where 
 Job is said or supposed to have lived, or rather where the scene 
 of the drama is laid, is called TJz, and there was no place of 
 that name ever belonging to the Jews. If Uz is the same as 
 Ur, it was in Chaldea, or the country of the Gentiles. 
 
 The Jews can give no account how they came by this book, 
 nor who was the author, nor the time when it was written. 
 Origen, in his work against Celsus (in the first ages of the 
 Christian church), says, that the book of Job is older than Moses. 
 Eben-Ezra, the Jewish commentator, whom (as I have before 
 said) the bishop allows to have been a man of great erudition, 
 and who certainly understood his own language, says, that the 
 book of Job has been translated from another language into
 
 222 REPLY TO THE 
 
 Hebrew. Spinosa, another Jewish commentator of great learn- 
 ing, confirms the opinion of Eben-Ezra, and says moreover, 
 "Je crois gue Job etait Gentile;"* I believe that Job was a 
 Gentile. 
 
 The bishop (in his answer to me) says, " that the structure of 
 the whole book of Job, in whatever light of history or drama 
 it be considered, is founded on the belief that prevailed with 
 the Persians and Chaldeans, and other Gentile nations, of a 
 good and an evil spirit. 
 
 In speaking of the good and evil spirit of the Persians, the 
 bishop writes them Arimanius and Oromasdes. I will not dis- 
 pute about the orthography, because I know that translated 
 names are differently spelled in different languages. But he 
 has nevertheless made a capital error. He has put the devil 
 first; for Arimanius, or, as it is more generally written, Ahri- 
 man, is the evil spirit, smd^Oromasdes or Ormusd the good- 
 spirit. He has made the same mistake in the same paragraph,. 
 in speaking of the good and evil spirit of the ancient Egyptians, 
 Osiris and Typho, he puts Typho before Osiris. The error is- 
 just the same as if the bishop in writing about the Christian 
 religion, or in preaching a sermon, were to say the Devil and 
 God. A priest ought to know his own trade better. We agree, 
 however, about the structure of the book of Job, that it is Gen- 
 tile. I have said in the second part of the " Age of Reason,'^ 
 and given my reasons for it, that the drama of it is not Hebrew. 
 
 From the testimonies I have cited, that of Origen, who, about 
 fourteen hundred years ago, said that the book of Job was more 
 ancient than Moses ; that of Eben-Ezra, who, in his " Commen- 
 tary on Job," says, it has been translated from another language- 
 (and consequently from a Gentile language) into Hebrew ; that of 
 Spinosa, who not only says the same thing, but that the author 
 of it was a Gentile ; and that of the bishop, who says that the 
 structure of the whole book is Gentile. It follows then, in the 
 first place, that the book of Job is not a book of the Jews 
 originally. 
 
 Then, in order to determine to what people or nation any 
 book of religion belongs, we must compare it with the leading 
 dogmas or precepts of that people or nation ; and, therefore, upon 
 the bishop's own construction, the book of Job belongs either to- 
 the ancient Persians, the Chaldeans, or the Egyptians; because 
 
 * Spinosa on the ceremonies of the Jews, page 296, nublished in French* 
 at Amsterdam, 1678.
 
 BISHOP OF LLANDAPF. 223 
 
 the structure of it is consistent -with the dogma they held, that 
 of a good and evil spirit, called in Job, God and Satan, existing 
 as distinct and separate beings, and it is not consistent with 
 any dogma of the Jews. 
 
 The belief of a good and an evil spirit, existing as distinct 
 and separate beings, is not a dogma to be found in any of the 
 books of the Bible. It is not till we come to the New Testa- 
 ment that we he hear of any such dogma. There the person 
 called the Son of God, holds conversation with Satan on & 
 mountain, as familiarly as is represented in the drama of Job. 
 Consequently the bishop cannot say, in this respect, that the 
 New Testament is founded upon the Old. According to the 
 Old, the God of the Jews was the God of everything. All good 
 and evil came from him. According to Exodus, it was God, 
 and not the Devil, that hardened Pharaoh's heart. According 
 to the book of Samuel, it was an evil spirit from God that 
 troubled Saul. And Ezekiel makes God to say, in speaking of 
 the Jews, " / gave them the statutes that were not good, and 
 judgments by which they should not live." The bible describes 
 the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in such a contradictory 
 manner, and under such a two-fold character, there would be no 
 knowing when he was in earnest and when in irony ; when to 
 believe and when not. As to the precepts, principles, and 
 maxims, in the book of Job, they show that the people, abusively 
 called the heathen in the books of the Jews, had the most sub- 
 lime ideas of the Creator, and the most exalted devotional moral- 
 ity. It was the Jews who dishonored God. It was the Gen- 
 tiles who glorified him. As to the fabulous personifications 
 introduced by the Greeks and Latin poets, it was a corruption 
 of the ancient religion of the Gentiles, which consisted in the 
 adoration of a first cause of the works of the creation, in which 
 the sun was the great visible agent. 
 
 It appears to have been a religion of gratitude and adoration, 
 and not of prayer and discontented solicitation. In Job we 
 find adoration and submission, but not prayer. Even the ten 
 commandments enjoin not prayer. Prayer has been added to 
 devotion by the church of Rome, as the instrument of fees and 
 perquisites. All prayers by the priests of the Christian church, 
 whether public or private, must be paid for. It may be right, 
 individually, to pray for virtues, or menta/ instruction, but not 
 for things. It is an attempt to dictate to the Almighty in the 
 government of the world. But to return to the book of Job.
 
 224 REPLY TO THE 
 
 As the book of Job decides itself to be a book of the Gen- 
 tiles, the next thing is to find out to what particular nation it 
 belongs, and lastly, what is its antiquity. 
 
 As a composition it is sublime, beautiful and scientific : full 
 of sentiment, and abounding in grand metaphorical description. 
 As a drama, it is regular. The dramatis personce, the persons 
 performing the several parts, are regularly introduced and speak 
 without interruption or confusion. The scene, as I have before 
 said, is laid in the country of the Gentiles, and the unities, 
 though not always necessary in a drama, are observed here as 
 strictly as the subject would admit. 
 
 In the last act, where the Almighty is introduced as speak- 
 ing from the whirlwind, to decide the controversy between Job- 
 and his friends, it is an idea as grand as poetical imagination 
 can conceive. What follows of Job's future prosperity does not 
 belong to it as a drama. It is an epilogue of the writer, as the 
 first verses of the first chapter, which gave an account of Job, 
 his country and his riches, are the prologue. 
 
 The book carries the appearance of being the work of some 
 of the Persian Magi, not only because the structure of it corres- 
 ponds to the dogmas of the religion of those people, as founded 
 by Zoroaster, but from the astronomical references in it to the 
 constellations of the zodiac and other objects in the heavens, of 
 which the sun, in their religion called Mithra, was the chief. 
 Job, in describing the power of God (Job ix. ver. 27), says, 
 " Who commandeth the sun, and it riseth not, and sealeth up 
 the stars who alone spreadeth out the heavens, and treadeth 
 upon the waves of the sea who maketh Arcturus, Orion, and 
 Pleiades, and the chambers of the south." All this astronomi- 
 cal allusion is consistent with the religion of the Persians. 
 
 Establishing then the book of Job, as the work of some of 
 the Persian, or Eastern Magi, the case naturally follows, that 
 when the Jews returned from captivity, by the permission of 
 Cyrus, king of Persia, they brought this book with them : had 
 it translated into Hebrew, and put into their scriptural canons, 
 which were not formed till after their return. This will account 
 for the name of Job being mentioned in Ezekiel) Ezekiel, chap. 
 xiv., v. 14), who was one of the captives, and also for its not 
 being mentioned in any book said or supposed to have been 
 written before the captivity. 
 
 Among the astronomical allusions in the book, there is one 
 which serves to fix its antiquity. It is that where God is made
 
 BISHOP OF LLANDAFF. 225 
 
 to say to Job, in the style of reprimand, " Canst thou bind the 
 sweet influences of Pleiades." (Chap, xxxviii., ver. 31 ) As 
 the explanation of this depends upon astronomical calculation, 
 I will, for the sake of those who would not otherwise under- 
 itand it, endeavor to explain it as clearly as the subject will 
 tdmit. 
 
 The Pleiades are a cluster of pale, milky stars, about the size 
 jf a man's hand, in the constellation Taurus, or in English, the 
 Bull. It is one of the constellations of the zodiac, of which 
 there are twelve, answering to the twelve months of the year 
 The Pleiades are visible in the winter nights, but not in the 
 summer nights, being then below the horizon 
 
 The zodiac is an imaginary belt or circle in the heavens, 
 eighteen degrees broad, in which the sun apparently makes his 
 annual course, and in which all the planets move. When the 
 sun appears to our view to be between us and the group of star* 
 forming such or such a constellation, he is said to be in that 
 constellation. Consequently the constellations he appears to \>* 
 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 oam<? roaring out of the cannon's 
 mouth, to prevent their hurting the saints of her favorite 
 army. She does no such feats now-a-days. Perhaps the reason 
 is, that the infidels have taken away her muslin apron. They 
 show also, between L'lontmartre and the village of St. Denis, 
 several places whpre they say St. Denis stopt with his head in 
 his hands after it had been cut off at Montmartre. The Protes- 
 tants will call 'Ihosi' things lies ; and where is the proof that all 
 the other things railed miracles are not as great lies as those. 
 
 [There appears to be an omission here in the copy.] 
 
 Christ, say those- Cabalists, came in ihejulness of time. And 
 pray what is th<- fulness of time? The words admit of no idea. 
 They are perfectly Cabalistical. Time is a word invented to 
 describe to our conception a greater or less portion of eternity. 
 It may be a minute, a portion of eternity measured by the vi- 
 bration of a pendulum of a certain length ; it may be a day, 
 a year, a hundred, or a thousand years, or any other quantity. 
 Those portions are only greater or less comparatively. 
 
 The word fulness applies not to any of them. The idea of 
 fulness of time cannot be conceived. A woman with child and 
 ready for delivery, as Mary was when Christ was born, may be 
 said to have gone her full time ; but it is the woman that is 
 full, not time. 
 
 It may also be said figuratively, in certain cases, that the 
 times are full of events ; but time itself is incapable of being
 
 BISHOP OF LLANDAFF. 2-*>3 
 
 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., <fec. 
 
 But immediately from the beginning of the fourth verse of 
 the second chapter, where the second story begins, the style of 
 expression is always the Lord God, and this style of expression 
 is invariably used to the end of the chapter, and is repeated 
 eleven times; in the one it is always GOD, and never the Lord 
 God, in the other it is always the Lord God, and never GOD. 
 The first story contains thirty-four verses, and repeats the 
 single word GOD thirty-five times. The second story contains 
 twenty-two verses and repeats the compound word Lord-God 
 eleven times; this difference of style, so often repeated, and so 
 uniformly continued, shows that those two chapters, containing 
 two different stories, are written by different persons. It is the 
 same in all different editions of the Bible, in all the languages 
 I have seen.
 
 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 245 
 
 Having thus shown, from the difference of style, that those 
 two chapters divided, as they properly divide themselves, at 
 the end of the third verse of the second chapter, are the work 
 of two different persons, I come to show, from the contradictory 
 matters they contain, that they cannot be the work of one 
 person, and are two different stories. 
 
 It is impossible, unless the writer was a lunatic, without 
 memory, that one and the same person could say, as is said in 
 the 27th and 28th verses of the first chapter "So God created 
 man in his own image, in the image of God created lie him; 
 male and female created he them; and God blessed them, and 
 God said unto them, be fruitful and multiply, and replenish the 
 earth, and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea, 
 and over the fowls of the air, and every living thing that moveth 
 on the face of the earth." It is, I say, impossible that the same 
 person who said this, could afterwards say, as is said in the 
 second chapter, ver. 5, and there was not a man to till the 
 ground; and then proceed in the 7th verse to give another 
 account of the making a man for the first time, and afterwards 
 of the making a woman out of his rib. 
 
 Again, one and the same person could not write, as is written 
 in the 29th verse of the first chapter: "Behold I (God) have 
 given you every herb bearing seed, which is on the face of the 
 earth ; and every tree, in which is the fruit of a tree bearing 
 seed, to you it shall be for meat," and afterwards say, as is said 
 in the second chapter, that the Lord God planted a tree in the 
 midst of a garden, and forbad man to eat thereof. 
 
 Again, one and the same person could not say, Thus the heavens 
 and the earth were finished, and all the host of them, and on the 
 seventh day God ended his work which he had made; and shortly 
 after set the Creator to work again, to plant a garden, to make 
 a man and a woman, &c., as is done in the second chapter. 
 
 Here are evidently two different stories contradicting each 
 other. According to the first, the two sexes, the male and the 
 female, were made at the same time. According to the second, 
 they were made at different times, the man first, the woman 
 afterwards. According to the first story they were to have 
 dominion over all the earth. According to the second, their 
 dominion was limited to a garden. How large a garden it 
 could be that one man and one woman could dress and keep 
 in order, I leave to the prosecutor, the judge, the jury, and Mr. 
 Erskine to determine.
 
 246 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 
 
 The story of the talking serpent, and its tete-a-tete with Eve ; 
 the doleful adventure called the Fall of Man ; and how he was 
 turned out of his fine garden, and how the garden was after- 
 wards locked up and guarded by a flaming sword (if any one 
 can tell what a flaming sword is), belonging altogether to the 
 second story. They have no connection with the first story. 
 According to the first there was no garden of Eden ; no forbid- 
 den tree : the scene was the whole earth, and the fruit of all the 
 trees was allowed to be eaten. 
 
 In giving this example of the strange state of the Bible, it 
 cannot be said T have gone out of my way to seek it, for I have 
 taken the beginning of the book ; nor can it be said I have made 
 more of it, than it makes icself. That there are two stories is as 
 visible to the eye, when attended to, as that there are two chap- 
 ters, and that they have been written by different persons, nobody 
 knows by whom. If this then is the strange condition the begin- 
 ning of the Bible is in, it leads to a just suspicion, that the 
 other parts are no better, and consequently it becomes every 
 man's duty to examine the case. I have done it for myself, and 
 am satisfied that the Bible is fabulous, 
 
 Perhaps I shall be told in the cant-language of the day, as I 
 have often been told by the Bishop of Llandaff and others, of the 
 great and laudable pains that many pious and learned men have 
 taken to explain the obscure and reconcile the contradictoiy, or 
 as they say, the seemingly contradictory passages of the Bible. 
 It is because the Bible needs such an undertaking, that is one 
 of the first causes to suspect it is NOT the word of God ; this 
 single reflection, when carried home to the mind, is in itself a 
 volume. 
 
 What ! does not the Creator of the Universe, the Fountain 
 of all Wisdom, the Origin of all Science, the Author 'of all 
 Knowledge, the God of Order, and of Harmony, know how to 
 write ? When we contemplate the vast economy of the crea- 
 tion; when we behold the unerring regularity of the visible 
 solar system, the perfection with which all its several parts re- 
 volve, and by corresponding assemblage, form a whole ; when 
 we launch our eye into the boundless ocean of space, and see 
 ourselves surrounded by innumerable worlds, not one of which 
 varies from its appointed place when we trace the power of 
 the Creator, from a mite to an elephant from an atom to an 
 universe can we suppose that, the mind that could conceive 
 such a design, and *he power that executed it with incomparable
 
 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 247 
 
 perfection, cannot write without inconsistency ; or, that a boot 
 so written, can be the work of such a power 1 The writings of 
 Thomas Paine, even of Thomas Paine, need no commentator 
 to explain, expound, arrange, and re-arrange their several parts, 
 to render them intelligible he can relate a fact, or write an 
 essay, without forgetting in one page what he has written in an- 
 other certainly, then, did the God of all perfection condescend 
 to write or dictate a book, that book would be as perfect as 
 himself is perfect ; the Bible is not so, and it is confessedly not 
 so, by the attempts to amend it. 
 
 Perhaps I shall be told, that though I have produced one 
 instance, I cannot produce another of equal force. One is suf- 
 ficient to call in question the genuineness of authenticity of any 
 book that pretends to be the word of God ; for such a book 
 would, as before said, be as perfect as its author is perfect. 
 
 I will, however, advance only four chapters further into the 
 the book of Genesis, and produce another example that is suf- 
 ficient to invalidate the story to which it belongs. 
 
 We have all heard of Noah's Flood ; and it is impossible to 
 think of the whole human race, men, women, children, and 
 infants (except one family,) deliberately drowning, without feel- 
 ing a painful sensation ; that heart must be a heart of flint that 
 can contemplate such a scene with tranquillity. There is no- 
 thing in the ancient mythology, nor in the religion of any people 
 we know of upon the globe, that records a sentence of their God, 
 or of their Gods, so tremendously severe and merciless. If the 
 story be not true, we blasphemously dishonor God by believing 
 it, and still more so, in forcing, by laws and penalties, that be- 
 lief upon others. I go now to show, from the face of the story, 
 that it carries the evidence of not being true. 
 
 I know not if the judge, the jury, and Mr. Erskine, who tried 
 and convicted Williams, ever read the Bible, or know anything 
 of its contents, and, therefore, I will state the case precisely. 
 
 There was no such people as Jews or Israelites, in the time 
 that Noah is said to have lived, and consequently there was no 
 such law as that which is called the Jewish or Mosaic Law. It 
 is according to the Bible, more than six hundred years from th*> 
 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 
 one and the same hook, and that a mistranslation of the words, 'ancient 
 scripture,' used by Prisot. Finch quotes Prisot ; Wingate does the same ; 
 Sheppard quotes Prisot, Finch and Wingate. Hale cites nobody. The 
 court, on Woolston's case, cites Hale ; Wood cites Woolston's case ; Black- 
 stone quotes Woolston's case and Hale : and Lord Mansfield, like Hale, 
 ventures it on his own authority. Here I might defy the best read lawyer 
 to produce another scrip of authority for this judiciavy forgery ; and I mi^ht 
 go on farther to show how some of the Anglo-Saxon priests interpolated into 
 the text of Alfred's laws the 20th, 21st, '-'I'd, and 23d chapters of Exodus, 
 and the 15th of the Acts of the Apostles, from the 23rd to the 29th verses ; 
 but this would lead my pen and your patience too far. What a conspiracy 
 this, between church and state 1 ' "
 
 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 255 
 
 41 Age of Reason," have taken the ground upon which only an 
 answer could be written. The case in question is not upon any 
 point of doctrine, but altogether upon a matter of fact. Is the 
 book called the Bible the word of God, or is it not? If it can 
 be proved to be so, it ought to be believed as such ; if not, it 
 ought not be believed as such. This is the true state of the case. 
 The " Age of Reason " produces evidence to show, and I have 
 in this letter produced additional evidence that it is not the 
 word of God. Those who take the contrary side should prove 
 that it is. But this they have not done, nor attempted to do, 
 and consequently they have done nothing to the purpose. 
 
 The prosecutors of Williams have shrunk from the point, as 
 the answerers have done. They have availed themselves of pre- 
 judice instead of proof. If a writing was produced in a court 
 of judicature, said to be the writing of a certain person, and 
 upon the reality or non-reality of which, some matter at issue 
 depended, the point to be proved would be, that such writing 
 was the writing of such person. Or if the issue depended upon 
 certain words, which some certain person was said to have 
 spoken, the point to be proved would be, that such words were 
 spoken by such person ; and Mr. Erskine would contend the 
 case upon this ground. A certain book is said to be the word 
 of God. What is the proof that it is so 1 for upon this the 
 whole depends ; and if it cannot be proved to be so, the prose- 
 cution fails for want of evidence. 
 
 The prosecution against Williams charges him with publishing 
 a book, entitled the " Age of Reason," which it says, is an im- 
 pious blasphemous pamphlet, tending to ridicule and bring into 
 contempt the Holy Scriptures. Nothing is more easy than to 
 find abusive words, and English prosecutions are famous for this 
 species of vulgarity. The charge, however, is sophistical ; for 
 the charge, as growing out of the pamphlet, should have stated, 
 not as it now states, to ridicule and bring into contempt the 
 Holy Scriptures, but to show, that the book called the Holy 
 Scriptures are not the Holy Scriptures. It is one thing if 1 
 ridicule a work as being written by a certain person ; but it i 
 quite a different thing if I write to prove that such work was 
 not written by such person. In the first case, I attack the per- 
 son through the work ; in the other case, I defend the honor of 
 the person against the work. This is what the "Age of Reason" 
 does, and consequently the charge in the indictment is sophis- 
 tically stated. Every ov will admit, that if the Bible be not
 
 256 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 
 
 the word of God, we err in believing it to be his word, and 
 ought not to believe it. Certainly, then, the ground the prose- 
 cution should take, would be to prove that the Bible is in fact 
 what it is called. But this the prosecution has not done, and 
 cannot do. 
 
 In all cases the prior fact must be proved, before the subse- 
 quent facts can be admitted in evidence. In a prosecution for 
 adultery, the fact of marriage, which is the prior fact, must be 
 proved, before the facts to prove adultery can be received. If 
 the fact of marriage cannot be proved, adultery cannot be 
 proved ; and if the prosecution cannot prove the Bible to be 
 the word of God, the charge of blasphemy is visionary and 
 groundless. 
 
 In Turkey they might prove, if the case happened, that a 
 certain book was bought of a certain bookseller, and that the- 
 said book was written against the Koran. In Spain and Por- 
 tugal they might prove that a certain book was bought of a 
 certain bookseller, and that the said book was written against 
 the infallibility of the Pope. Under the ancient mythology 
 they might have proved that a certain writing was bought of 
 a certain person, and that the said writing was written against 
 the belief of a plurality of gods, and in the support of the be- 
 lief of one God. Socrates was condemned for a work of this 
 kind. 
 
 All these are but subsequent facts, and amount to nothing, 
 unless the prior facts be proved. The prior fact, with respect 
 to the first case, is, Is the Koran the word of God? With 
 respect to the second, Is the infallibility of the Pope a truth? 
 With respect to the third, Is the belief of a plurality of gods 
 a true belief 1 and in like manner with respect to the present 
 prosecution, Is the book called the Bibie the word of God 1 If 
 the present prosecution prove no more than could be proved in 
 any or all of these cases, it proves only as they do, or as an in- 
 quisition would prove ; and in this view of the case, the prose- 
 cutors ought at least to leave off reviling that infernal institu- 
 tion, the inquisition. The prosecution, however, though it may 
 injure the individual, may promote the cause of truth, because 
 the manner in which it has been conducted, appears a confession 
 to the world, that there is no evidence to prove that the Bible 
 is the word of God. On what authority then do we believe the 
 many strange stories that the Bible tells of God. 
 
 This prosecution has been carried on through the medium of
 
 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 257 
 
 what is called a special jury, and the whole of a special jury is 
 nominated by the aiaster of the crown office. Mr. Erskino 
 vaunts himself upon the bill he brought into parliament with 
 respect to trials, for what the government party calls libels. 
 But if in crown prosecutions, the master of the crown office is 
 to continue to appoint the whole special jury, which he does by 
 nominating the forty-eight persons from which the solicitor of 
 each party is to strike out twelve, Mr Erskine's bill is only 
 vapor and smoke. The root of the grievance lies in the man- 
 ner of forming the jury, and to this Mr. Erskine's bill applies 
 no remedy. 
 
 When the trial of Williams came on, only eleven of the 
 special jurymen appeared, and the trial was adjourned. In 
 cases where the whole number do not appear, it is customary 
 to make up the deficiency by taking jurymen from persona 
 present in court. This, in the law term, is called a Tales. 
 Why was not this done in this case? Reason will suggest that 
 they did not choose to depend on a man accidentally taken. 
 When the trial recommenced the whole of the special jury ap- 
 peared, and Williams \vasconvicted; it is folly to contend a 
 cause where the whole jury is nominated by one of the parties. 
 I will relate a recent case that explains a great deal with re- 
 spect to special juries in crown prosecution. 
 
 On the trial of Lambert and others, printers and proprietors 
 of the Morning Chronicle, for a libel, a special jury was struck, 
 on the prayer of the Attorney-General, who used to be called 
 Diabolus Regis, or King's Devil. 
 
 Only seven or eight of the special jury appeared, and the 
 Attorney-General not praying a Tales, the trial stood over to a 
 future day ; when it was to be brought on a second time, the 
 Attorney -General prayed for a new special jury, but as this was 
 not admissible, the original special jury was summoned. Only 
 eight of them appeared, on which the Attorney-General said, 
 " As I cannot, on a second trial, have a special jury, I will 
 pray a Tales" Four persons were then taken from the persons 
 present in court, and added to the eight special jurymen. The 
 jury went out at two o'clock to consult on their verdict, and the 
 judge (Kenyon) understanding they were divided, and likely to 
 be some time in making up their minds, retired from the bench, 
 and went home. At seven the jury went, attended by an officer 
 of ihe court to the Judge's house, and delivered a verdict, 
 " Guilty of puhl^ing, but with no malicious intention." The 
 17
 
 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 
 
 Judge said, " 1 cannot record this verdict : it is no verdict at 
 all." The jury withdrew, and after sitting in consultation till 
 five in the morning, brought in a verdict, Not Guilty. Would 
 this have been the case had they been all special jurymen 
 nominated by the Master of the Crown-office ? This is one of 
 the cases that ought to open the eyes of the people with respect 
 to the manner of forming special juries. 
 
 On the trial of Williams, the Judge prevented the counsel 
 for the defendant proceeding in the defence. The prosecution 
 had selected a number of passages from the Age of Reason, and 
 inserted them in the indictment. The defending counsel was 
 selecting other passages to show, that the passages in the in- 
 dictment were conclusions drawn from premises, and unfairly 
 seperated therefrom in the indictment. The Judge said, he did 
 not know how to act; meaning thereby whether to let the counsel 
 -proceed in the defence or not, and asked the jury if they wished 
 to hear the passages read which the defending counsel had 
 selected. The jury said NO, and the defending counsel was in 
 consequence silent. Mr. Erskine 1 then, Falstaff like, having all 
 the field to himself, and no enemy at hand, laid about him most 
 heroically, and the jury found the defendant guilty. I know 
 not if Mr. Erskine ran out of court and hallooed, huzza for the 
 Bible and the trial by jury. 
 
 Robespierre caused a decree to be passed during the trial of 
 Brissot and others, that after a trial had lasted three days (the 
 whole of which time in the case of Brissot, was taken up by the 
 prosecuting party), the judge should ask the jury (who were 
 ithen a packed jury) if they were satisfied. If the jury said 
 YES, the trial ended, and the jury proceeded to give their ver- 
 dict, without hearing the defence of the accused party. It 
 needs no depth of wisdom to make an application of this case. 
 
 1 will now state a case to show that the trial of Williams is 
 not a trial, according to Kenyon's own explanation of law. 
 
 On a late trial in London (Seltheris versus Hoossman) on a 
 policy of insurance, one of the jurymen, Mr. Dunnage, after 
 hearing one side of the case, and without hearing the other side, 
 .got up and said, it was as legal a policy of insurance as ever was 
 written. The Judge, who was the same as presided on the trial 
 of Williams, replied, that it was a great misfortune when any 
 gentleman of the jury makes up his mind on a cause before it 
 was jinislied. Mr. Erskine, who in that cause was counsel for 
 the defendant (in this he was aeainFt the defendant), cried out,
 
 LETTER TO MB. ERSKINE, 250 
 
 it is worse than a misfortune, it is a fault. The Judge, in his 
 address to the jury in summing up the evidence, expatiated 
 upon, and explained the parts which the law assigned to the 
 counsel on each side, to the witnesses, and to the Judge, and 
 said, " When all this was done, and not until then, it was the 
 business of the jury to declare what the justice of the case was ; 
 and that it was extremely rash and imprudent in any man to 
 draw a conclusion before all the premises were laid before them, 
 upon which that conclusion was to be grounded." According 
 then to Kenyon's own doctrine, the trial of Williams is an ir- 
 regular trial, the verdict an irregular verdict, and as such is not 
 recordable. 
 
 As to special juries, they are but modern; and were insti- 
 tuted for the purpose of determining cases at law between 
 merchants; because, as the method of keeping merchants' 
 accounts differs from that of common tradesmen, and . their 
 business, by lying much in foreign bills of exchange, insurance, 
 etc., is of a different description to that of common tradesmen, 
 it might happen that a common jury might not be competent 
 to form a judgment. The law that instituted special juries, 
 makes it necessary that the jurors be merchants, or of the degree 
 of squires. A special jury in London is generally composed of 
 merchants; and in the country, of men called country squires, 
 that is, fox-hunters, or men qualified to hunt foxes. The one 
 may decide very well upon a case of pounds, shillings, and pence, 
 or of the counting-house: and the other of the jockey-club or 
 the chase. But who would not laugh, that because such men 
 can decide such cases, they can also be jurors upon theology. 
 Talk with some London merchants about scripture, and they 
 will understand you mean scrip, and tell you how much it is 
 worth at the Stock Exchange. Ask them about theology, and 
 they will say they know of no such gentleman upon Change. 
 Tell some country squires of the sun and moon standing still, 
 the one on the top of a hill and the other in a valley, and 
 they will swear it is a lie of one's own making. Tell them that 
 God Almighty ordered a man to make a cake and bake it with 
 a t d and eat it, and they will say it is one of Dean Swift's 
 blackguard stories. Tell them it is in the Bible, and they 
 will lay a bowl of punch it is not, and leave it to the parson of 
 the parish to decide. Ask them also about theology, and they 
 will say, they know of no such an one on the turf. An appeal 
 to such juries serves to bring the Bible into more ridicule than
 
 260 LETTEE TO MR. ERSKINE. 
 
 anything the author of the "Age of Reason" has written; and 
 the manner in which the trial has been conducted shows that 
 the prosecutor dares not come to the point, nor meet the de- 
 fence of the defendant. But all other cases apart, on what 
 ground of right, otherwise than on the right assumed by an 
 inquisition, do such prosecutions stand? Religion is a private 
 affair between every, man and his Maker, and no tribunal or 
 third party has a right to interfere between them. It is not 
 properly a thing of this world; it is only practised in this 
 world ; but its object is in a future world : and it is no other- 
 wise an object of just laws, than for the purpose of protecting 
 the equal rights of all, however various their beliefs may be. 
 If one man choose to believe the book called the Bible to be 
 the word of God, and another, from the convinced idea of the 
 purity and perfection of God, compared with the contradictions 
 the book contains from the lasciviousness of some of its 
 stories, like that of Lot getting drunk and debauching his two- 
 daughters, which is not spoken of as a crime, and for which 
 the most absurd apologies are made from the immorality of 
 some of its precepts, like that of showing no mercy and from 
 the total want of evidence on the case, thinks he ought not to- 
 believe it to be the word of God, each of them has an equal 
 right ; and if the one has the right to give his reasons for be- 
 lieving it to be so, the other has an equal right to give his 
 reasons for believing the contrary. Anything that goes beyoad 
 this rule is an inquisition. Mr. Erskine talks of his moral 
 education; Mr. Erskine is very little acquainted with theo- 
 logical subjects, if he does not know there is such a thing as a 
 sincere and religious belief that the Bible is not the word of 
 God. This is my belief ; it is the belief of thousands far more 
 learned than Mr. Erskine; and it is a belief that is every day 
 increasing. It is not infidelity, as Mr. Erskine profanely and 
 abusively calls it; it is the direct reverse of infidelity. It is a 
 pure religious belief, founded on the idea of the perfection of 
 the Creator. If the Bible be the word of God, it needs not the 
 wretched aid of prosecutions to support it ; and you might with 
 as much propriety, make a law to protect the sunshine, as to 
 protect the Bible, if the Bible, like the sun, be the work of God. 
 We see that God takes good care of the Creation he has made. 
 He suffers no part of it to be extinguished: and he will take 
 the same care of his word, if he ever gave one. But men ou.crht 
 to be reverentially careful and suspicious how they ascribe
 
 LETTER TO MB. ERSKINE. 261 
 
 books to him as his word, which from this confused condition 
 would dishonor a common scribbler, and against which there is 
 abundant evidence, and every cause to suspect imposition. 
 Leave then the Bible to itself. God will take care of it if he 
 has anything to do with it, as he takes care of the sun and the 
 moon, which need not your laws for their better protection. 
 As the two instances I have produced, in the beginning of this 
 letter, from the book of Genesis, the one respecting the account 
 called the Mosaic account of the Creation, the other of the 
 Flood, sufficiently show the necessity of examining the Bible, 
 in order to ascertain what degree of evidence there is for re- 
 ceiving or rejecting it as a sacred book ; I shall not add more 
 upon that subject; but in order to show Mr. Erskine that 
 there are religious establishments for public worship which 
 make no profession of faith of the books called holy scriptures, 
 nor admit of priests, I will conclude with an account of a 
 society lately begun in Paris, and now very rapidly extending 
 itself. 
 
 The society takes the name of Theophilantropes, which would 
 be rendered in English by the word Theophilanthropists, com- 
 pounded of three Greek words, signifying God, Love, and Man. 
 The explanation given to this word is, Lovers of God and Man, 
 or Adorers of God and Friends of Man, adorateurs de Dieu et 
 amis des hommes. The society proposes to publish each year a 
 volume, the first volume is just published, entitled 
 
 EELIGIOUS YEAE OF THE THEOPHILANTHROPISTS; 
 
 OB, 
 ADORERS OF GOD, AND FRIENDS OF MAN. 
 
 Being a collection of the discourses, lectures, hymns and 
 canticles, for all the religious and moral festivals of the Theo- 
 philanthropists during the course of the year, whether in their 
 public temples or in their private families, published by the 
 author of the Manual of the Theophilanthropists. 
 
 The volume of this year, which is the first, contains 214 
 pages duodecimo. 
 
 The following is the table of contents: 
 
 1. Precise history of the Theophilanthropista 
 
 2. Exercises common to all the festivals. 
 
 3. Hymn, No. L God of whom the universe speaks.
 
 3*52 LETTER TO MR. ERSKINE. 
 
 4. Discourse upon the existence of God. 
 
 5. Ode II. The heavens instruct the earth. 
 
 6. Precepts of wisdom, extracted from the book of th 
 
 Adorateurs. 
 
 7. Canticle, No. IIL God Creator, soul of nature. 
 
 8. Extracts from divers moralists, upon the nature of God, 
 
 and upon the physical proofs of his existence. 
 
 9. Canticle, No. IV. Let us bless at our waking the God 
 
 who gives us light 
 
 10. Moral thoughts extracted from the Bible. 
 
 11. Hymn, No. Y. Father of the universe. 
 
 12. Contemplation of nature on the first days of the spring. 
 
 13. Ode, No. VI. Lord in thy glory adorable. 
 
 14. Extracts from the moral thoughts of Confucius. 
 
 15. Canticle in praise of actions, and thanks for the works of 
 
 the creation. 
 
 16. Continuation from the moral thoughts of Confucius. 
 
 17. Hymn, No. VIL All the universe is full of thy magni- 
 
 ficence. 
 
 18. Extracts from an ancient sage of India upon the duties of 
 
 families. 
 
 19. Upon the spring. 
 
 20. Moral thoughts of divers Chinese authors. 
 
 21. Canticle, No. VIII. Everything celebrates the glory of 
 
 the eternal. 
 
 22. Continuation of the moral thoughts of Chinese authors. 
 
 23. Invocation for the country. 
 
 24. Extracts from the moral thoughts of Theognis. 
 
 25. Invocation, Creator of man. 
 
 26. Ode, No. IX. Upon death. 
 
 27. Extracts from the book of the Moral Universal, upon 
 
 happiness. 
 
 28. Ode, No. X. Supreme Author of Nature. 
 
 INTRODUCTION; 
 
 ENTITLED 
 
 PRECISE HISTORY OF TILE THEOPHILANTHROPISTS. 
 
 "TOWARDS the month of Vendimiaire, of the year 5 (Sept. 
 170C), there appeared at Paris, a small work, entitled, Manual
 
 LETTER TO MY. ERSKINE. 263 
 
 of the Theoanthropophiles, since called, for the salre of easier 
 pronunciation, Theophilanthropes (Theophilanthropists), pub- 
 lished by C . 
 
 " The worship set forth in this Manual, of which the origin 
 is from the beginning of the world, was then professed by some 
 families in the silence of domestic life. But no sooner was the 
 Manual published, than some perrons, respectable for their know- 
 ledge and their manners, saw, in the formation of a society open 
 to the public, an easy method of spreading moral religion, and 
 of leading by degrees great r umbers to the knowledge thereof, 
 who appear to have forgotten it. This consideration ought of 
 itself not to leave indifferent those persons who know that 
 morality and religion, which is the most solid support thereof, 
 are necessary to the maintenance of society, as well as to the 
 happiness of the individual. These considerations determined 
 the families of the Theophilanthropists to unite publicly for the 
 exercise of their worship. 
 
 " The first society of this kind opened in the month of Nivose, 
 year 5 (Jan. 1797), in the street Dennis, No. 34, corner of Lom- 
 bard-street. The care of conducting this society was under- 
 taken by five fathers of families. They adopted the Manual 
 of the Theophilanthropisfcs. They agreed to hold their days of 
 public worship on the days corresponding to Sundays, but with- 
 out making this a hindrance to other societies to choose such 
 other day as they thought more convenient. Soon after this, 
 more societies were opened, of which somo celebrate on the 
 decadi (tenth day), and others on the Sunday : it was also re- 
 solved that the committee should meet one hour each week 
 for the purpose of preparing or examining the discourses and 
 lectures proposed for the next general assembly. Tnat the gen- 
 eral assemblies should be called Fetes (festivals) religious and 
 moral. That those festivals should be conducted in principal 
 and form, in a manner, as not to be considered c.s the festivals 
 of an exclusive worship ; and that in recalling those who might 
 not be attached to any particular worship, those festivals might 
 also be attended as moral exercises by diociplcs cf every sect, 
 and consequently avoid, by scrupulous care, everything that 
 night make the society appear under the name of a sect. 
 The society adopts neither rights nor priesthood, < nd it wih 
 never lose sight of the resolution not to advance e^ clung as a 
 society, inconvenient to c.ny sect or wets, in any t,. j or coun- 
 try, and under any government.
 
 264 LETTER TO MR. ERSXINE. 
 
 " It will be seen, that it is so much the more easy OT fie 
 society to keep within this circle, because, that the dogmas of 
 the Theophilanthropists are those upon which all the sects Lave 
 agreed, that their moral is that upon which there has iiever been 
 the least dissent ; and that the name they have taken, expresses 
 the double end of all the sects, that of leading to the adoration 
 of God and love of mail. 
 
 "The Theophilanthropists do not call themselves the disci- 
 ples of such or such a man. They avail themselves* of th; wise 
 precepts that have been transmitted by writers of all countries 
 and in all ages. The reader will Jind in the discourses, lectures, 
 hymns, and canticles, which the Throphilanthmpists hav? 
 adopted for their religious and moral festivals, ami which they 
 present under the title of Ajuiee lu'ligieuse, extracts from 
 moralists, ancient and modern, divested of maxims too severe, 
 or too loosely conceived, or contrary to piety, whether towards 
 God or towards man." 
 
 Next follow the dogmas of the Theophilanthropists, or things 
 they profess to believe. These are but two, and are thus ex- 
 pressed, les Theopldlanlhropes croient i"i Vexisten.ee de Dieu, et 
 a I'immortalite de I'dme. The Thoophilanthropists believe in 
 the existence of God, and the immortality of the soul 
 
 The Manual of the Theophilanthropists, a small volume of 
 sixty pages, duodecimo, is published separately, as is also their 
 catechism, which is of the same size. The principles of the 
 Theophilanthropists are the same as those published in the first 
 part of the "Age of Reason" in 1793, and in the second part, in 
 1795. The Theophilanthropists, as a society, are silent upon 
 all the things they do not profess to believe, as the sacredness 
 of the books called the Bible, &c., <fec. They profess the im- 
 mortality of the soul, but they are silent on the immortality 
 of the body, or that which the church calls the resurrection. 
 The author of the "Age of Reason" gives reasons for every thing 
 he disbelieves, as well as for those he believes ; and where this 
 cannot be done with safety, the government is a despotism, and 
 the church an inquisition. 
 
 It is more than three years since the first part of the " Age of 
 Reason " was published, and more than a year and a half since 
 the publication of the second part: the bishop of Llandaff 
 undertook to write an answer to the second part ; and it was not 
 until after it was known that the author of the "Age of Reason 
 would reply to the bishop, that the prosecution against the book
 
 LETTER TO MR. EJ1SKINE. 265 
 
 was set on foot, and which is said to be carried on by some 
 clergy of the English church. If the bishop is one of them, 
 and the object be to prevent an exposure of the numerous and 
 gross errors he has committed in his work (and which he wrote 
 when report said that Thomas Paine was dead), it is a confession 
 that he feels the weakness of his cause, and finds himself unable 
 to maintain it. In this case he has given me a triumph I did 
 not seek, and Mr. Erskine, the herald of the prosecution, has 
 proclaimed it.
 
 266 AN ESSAY ON DUEAM3, 
 
 AN ESSAY ON DKEAMS. 
 
 As a great deal is said in the New Testament about dreams, 
 ft is first necessary to explain the nature of a dream, and to show 
 by what operation of the mind a dream is produced during sleep. 
 When this is understood we shall be better enabled to judge 
 whether any reliance can be placed upon them . and, conse- 
 quently, whether the several matters in the New Testament re- 
 lated of dreams deserve the credit which the writers of that book 
 and priests and commentators ascribe to them. 
 
 In order to understand the nature of dreams, or of that which 
 passes in ideal vision during a state of sleep, it is first necessary 
 to understand the composition and decomposition of the human 
 mind 
 
 The three great faculties of the mind are IMAGINATION, JUDG- 
 MENT and MEMORY. Every action of the mind comes under one 
 or the other of these faculties. In a state of wakefulness, as in 
 the day-time, these three faculties are all active ; but that is sel- 
 dom the case in sleep, and never perfectly ; and this is the cause- 
 that our dreams are not so regular and rational as our waking 
 thoughts. 
 
 The seat of that collection of powers or faculties that consti 
 tute what is called the mind, is in the brain There is not, and 
 cannot be, any visible demonstration of this anatomically, but 
 accidents happening to living persons, show it to be so. An in- 
 jury done to the brain by a fracture of the skull, will sometimes 
 change a wise man into a childish idiot : a being without a mind. 
 But so careful has nature been of that sanctum sanctorum of 
 man, the brain, that of all the external accidents to which hu- 
 manity is subject, this happens the most seldom. But we often 
 see it happening by long and habitual intemperance. 
 
 Whether those three faculties occupy distinct apartments of 
 the brain, is known only to that Almighty power that formed 
 and organized it. We can see the external effects of muscular 
 motion in all the members of the body, though its primum mo- 
 bile, or firrt mov'pfl cause, ia unknown to man. Our external
 
 AN ESSAY ON DREAMS. 267 
 
 motions are sometimes the effect of intention, and sometimes 
 not. If we are sitting and intend to rise, or standing and in- 
 tend to sit, or to walk, the limbs obey that intention as if they 
 heard the order given. But we make a thousand motions 
 every day, and that as well waking as sleeping, that have no 
 prior intention to direct them. Each member acts as if it had 
 a will or mind of its own. Man governs the whole when he 
 pleases to govern, but in the interims the several parts, like little 
 suburbs, govern themselves without consulting the sovereign. 
 
 But all these motions, whatever be the generating cause, are 
 external and visible. But with respect to the brain, no oculai 
 observation can be made upon it. All is mystery ; all is dark- 
 ness in that womb of thought. 
 
 Whether the brain is a mass of matter in continual rest , 
 whether it has a vibrating pulsative motion, or a heaving and 
 falling motion, like matter in fermentation ; whether different 
 parts of the brain have different motions according to the faculty 
 that is employed, be it the imagination, the judgment, or the 
 memory, man knows nothing of it. He knows not the cause of 
 his own wit. His own brain conceals it from him. 
 
 Comparing invisible by visible things, as metaphysical can 
 sometimes be compared to physical things, the operations of thos-e 
 distinct and several faculties have some resemblance to the mecL- 
 anism of a watch. The main spring which puts all in motion 
 corresponds to the imagination : the pendulum or balance, which 
 corrects and regulates that motion, corresponds to the judgment : 
 and the hand and dial, like the memory, records the operations. 
 
 Now in proportion as these several faculties sleep, slumber, o* 
 keep awake, during the continuance of a dream, in that pro- 
 portion the dream will be reasonable or frantic, remembered or 
 forgotten. 
 
 If there is any faculty in mental man that never sleeps it is 
 that volatile thing the imagination : the case is different with 
 the judgment and memory. The sedate and sober constitution 
 of the judgment easily disposes it to rest ; and as to the memory, 
 it records in silence, and is active only when it is called upon. 
 
 That the judgment soon goes to sleep may be perceived by 
 our sometimes beginning to dream before we are fully asleep 
 ourselves. Some random thought runs in the mind, and we start, 
 as it were, into recollection that we are dreaming between sleep- 
 ing and waking. 
 
 If the judgment sleeps whilst the imagination keeps awake,
 
 268 AN ESSAY ON DREAMS. 
 
 the dream will be a riotous assemblage of mis-shapen images and 
 ranting ideas, and the more active the imagination is, the wilder 
 the dream will be. The most inconsistent and the most impos- 
 sible things will appear right ; because that faculty, whose pro- 
 vince it is to keep order, is in a state of absence. The master 
 of the school is gone out, and the boys are in an uproar. 
 
 If the memory sleeps, we shall have no other knowledge of 
 the dream than that we have dreamt, without knowing what it 
 was bout. In this case it is sensation, rather then recollection, 
 that acts. The dream has given us some sense of pain or trou- 
 ble, and we feel it as a hurt, rather than remember it is as a vision. 
 
 If memory only slumbers, we shall have a faint remembrance 
 of the dream, and after a few minutes it will sometimes happen 
 that the principal passages of the dream will occur to us more 
 fully. The cause of this is that the memory will sometimes 
 continue slumbering or sleeping after we are awake ourselves, 
 and that so fully, that it may, and sometimes does happen that 
 we do not immediately recollect where we are. nor what we 
 have been about, or have to do. But when the memory starts 
 into wakefulness, it brings the knowledge of these things back 
 upon us, like a flood of light, and sometimes the dream with it. 
 
 But the most curious circumstances of the mind in a state 
 of dream, is the power it has to become the agent of every per- 
 son, character and thing, of which it dreams, it carries on con- 
 versation with several, asks questions, hears answers, gives and 
 receives information, and it acts all these parts itself. 
 
 But however various and eccentric the imagination may be 
 in the creation of images and ideas, it cannot supply the place 
 of memory with respect to things that are forgotten when wo 
 are awake. For example, if we have forgotten the name of a 
 person, and dream of seeing him and asking him his name, he 
 cannot tell it ; for it is ourselves asking ourselves the question. 
 
 But though the imagination cannot supply the place of rea) 
 memory, it has the wild faculty of counterfeiting memory. It 
 dreams of persons it never knew, and talks with them as if it 
 remembered them as old acquaintances. It relates circum- 
 stances that never happened, and tells them as if they had 
 happened. It goes to places that never existed, and knows 
 where all the streets and houses are, as if it had been there 
 before. The scenes it creates often appear as scenes remem- 
 bered. It will sometimes act a dream within a dream, and, in 
 the delusion of dreaming, tell a dream it never dreamed, and
 
 AN ESSAY ON DREAMS. 269 
 
 tell it as if it was from memory. It may also be remarked 
 that the imagination in & dream has no idea of time, as time. 
 It counts only by circumstances; and if a succession of circum- 
 stances pass in a dream that -would require a great length of 
 time to accomplish them, it will appear to the dreamer that a 
 length of time equal thereto has passed also. 
 
 As this is the state of the mind in dream, it may rationally 
 be said that every person is mad once in twenty -four hours, for 
 were he to act in the day as he dreams in the night, he would 
 be confined for a lunatic. In a state of wakefulness, those 
 three faculties being all alive, and acting in union, constitute 
 the rational man. In dreams it is otherwise, and, therefore, 
 that state which is called insanity, appears to be no other than 
 A disunion of those faculties, and a cessation of the judgment 
 during wakefulness, that we so often experience during sleep; 
 And idiotcy, into which some persons have fallen, is that cessa- 
 tion of all the faculties of which we can be sensible when we 
 happen to wake before our memory. 
 
 In this view of the mind how absurd it is to place reliance 
 upon dreams, and how much more absurd to make them a 
 foundation for religion; yet the belief that Jesus Christ is the 
 Son of God, begotten by the Holy Ghost, a being never heard 
 of before, stands on the story of an old man's dream. "And 
 behold the angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream, 
 saying, Joseph, thou son of David, fear not thou to take unto 
 thee Mary thy wife, for that which is conceived in her is of the 
 Holy Ghost" Matt. chap. i. verse 20. 
 
 After this we have the childish stories of three or four other 
 dreams? about Joseph going into Egypt; about his coming 
 back again ; about this, and about that, and this story of 
 dreams has thrown Europe into a dream for more than a 
 thousand years. All the efforts that nature, reason, and con- 
 science have made to awaken man from it, have been ascribed 
 by priestcraft and superstition to the workings of the devil, 
 and had it not been for the American revolution, which, by 
 establishing the universal right of conscience, first opened the 
 vay to free discussion, and for the French revolution which 
 followed, this religion of dreams had continued to be preached, 
 and that after it had ceased to be believed. Those who 
 preached it and did not believe it, still believed the delusion 
 necessary. They were not bold enough to b^ honest, nor 
 'honest enough to be bold.
 
 270 AN ESSAY ON DREAMS. 
 
 [Every new religion, like a new play, requires a new appar- 
 atus of dresses and machinery, to fit the new characters it 
 creates. The story of Christ in the New Testament brings a 
 new being upon the stage, which it calls the Holy Ghost; and 
 the story of Abraham, the father of the Jews, in the Old 
 Testament, gives existence to a new order of beings it calls 
 Angels. There was no Holy Ghost before the time of Christ, 
 nor Angels before the time of Abraham. We hear nothing of 
 these winged gentlemen till more than two thousand years, 
 according to the Bible chronology, from the time they say the 
 heavens, the earth, and all therein were made : After this, 
 they hop about as thick as birds in a grove; The first we hear 
 of, pays his addresses to Hagar in the wilderness; then three 
 of them visit Sarah ; another wrestles a fall with Jacob ; and 
 these birds of passage having found their way to earth and 
 back, are continually coming and going. They eat and drink, 
 and up again to heaven. What they do with the food they 
 carry away, the Bible does not tell us. Perhaps they do as th& 
 birds do. * * 
 
 One would think that a system loaded with such gross and 
 vulgar absurdities as scripture religion is, could never have- 
 obtained credit; yet we have seen what priestcraft and fanati- 
 cism could do, and credulity believe. 
 
 From angels in the Old Testament we get to prophets, to- 
 witches, to seers of visions, and dreamers of dreams, and some- 
 times we are told, as in 1 Samuel, chap. ix. ver 15, that God 
 whispers in the ear At other times we are not told how the 
 impulse was given, or whether sleeping or waking. In 2 Sam. 
 chap. xxiv. ver. 1, it is said, "And again the anger of the Lord 
 was kindled against Israel, and he moved David against them 
 to say, Go, number Israel and Judah. And in 1 Chron. chap. 
 xxi. ver. 1, when the same story is again related, it is said, 
 "And Satan stood up against Israel, and moved David to number 
 Israel." 
 
 Whether this was done sleeping or waking, we are not told, 
 hut it seems that David, whom they call a man after God's 
 own heart," did not know by what spirit he was moved, and as 
 to the men called inspired penmen, they agree so well about 
 the matter, that in one book they say that it was God, and ux 
 tne other that it was the Devil 
 
 The idea that writers of the Old Testament had of God was 
 Boisterous, contemptible, and vulgar. They make him the Mj*r
 
 AN ESSAY ON DREAMS. 271 
 
 of the Jews, the fighting God of Israel, the conjuring God of 
 their Priests and Prophets. They tell as many fables of him 
 as the Greeks told of Hercules. ******** 
 
 They make their God to say exultingly, " / will get me honor 
 upon Pharaoh and upon his Host, upon his Chariots and upon 
 his Horsemen" And that he may keep his word, they make 
 him set a trap in the Red Sea, in the dead of the night, for 
 Pharaoh, his host, and his horses, and drown them as a rat- 
 catcher would do so many rats Great honor indeed ! the story 
 of Jack the giant-killer is better told! 
 
 They pit him against the Egyptian magicians to conjure with 
 him, the three first essays are a dead match Each party turns 
 his rod into a serpent, the rivers into blood and creates frogs ; 
 but upon the fourth the God of the Israelites obtains the laurel, 
 he covers them all over with lice ! The Egyptian magicians 
 cannot do the same, and this lousy triumph proclaims the vic- 
 tory ! 
 
 They make their God to rain fire and brimstone upon Sodom 
 and Gomorrah, and belch fire and smoke upon mount Sinai, 
 as if he was the Pluto of the lower regions. They make him 
 salt up Lot's wife like pickled pork ; they make him pass like 
 Shakespeare's Queen Mab into the brain of their priests, 
 prophets, and prophetesses, and tickle them into dreams, and 
 after making him play all kind of tricks they confound him 
 with Satan, and leave us at a loss to know what God they 
 meant! 
 
 This is the descriptive God of the Old Testament ; and as to 
 the New, though the authors of it have varied the scene, they 
 have continued the vulgarity. 
 
 Is man ever to be the dupe of priestcraft, the slave of super- 
 stition 1 Is he never to have just ideas of his Creator? It is 
 better not to believe there is a God, than to believe of him 
 falsely. When we behold the mighty universe that surrounds 
 us, and dart our contemplation into the eternity of space, filled 
 with innumerable orbs, revolving in eternal harmony, how 
 paltry must the tales of the Old and New Testaments, profanely 
 called the word of God, appear to thoughtful man ? The stu- 
 pendous wisdom and unerring order, that reign and govern 
 throughout this wondrous whole, and call us to reflection, put to 
 shame the Bible I The God of eternity and of all that is real, 
 is not the God of passing dreams, and shadows of man's imagi- 
 nation ! The God of truth is not the God of fable ; the belief
 
 272 AN ESSAY ON DREAMS. 
 
 of a God begotten and a God crucified, is a God blasphemed 
 it is making a profane use of reason.]* 
 
 I shall conclude this Essay on Dreams with the two first 
 verses of the 34th chapter of Ecclesiasticus, one of the books 
 of the Apocrypha. 
 
 " The hopes of a man void of understanding are vian and 
 false ; and dreams lift up fools Wlwso regardeth dreams is 
 like him that catcheth at a shadow, and followeth after the 
 wind." 
 
 * Mr. Paine must have been in an ill humor when he wrote the passage 
 inclosed in crotchets, commencing at page 270 ; and probably on reviewing 
 it, and discovering exceptionable clauses, was induced to reject the whole, 
 as it does not appear in the edition published by himself. But having ob- 
 obtained the original in the hand writing of Mr. P. and deeming some of the 
 remarks worthy of being preserved, I have thought proper to restore the 
 passage with the exception of the objectionable parte. EDITOB.
 
 A LETTER TO A FKiKND. ??3 
 
 A LETTER: 
 
 BEING AN ANSWEB TO A FfllEND ON THE PUBLIOATZOH O 
 
 THE AGE OF REASON. 
 
 PARIS, May 12, 1797. 
 
 In your letter of the 20th of March, you gave me several 
 quotations from the Bible, which you call the word of God, to 
 show me that my opinions on religion are wrong, and I could 
 give you as many, from the same book, to show that yours are 
 not right; consequently, then, the Bible decides nothing, because 
 it decides any way, and every way, one chooses to make it. 
 
 But by what authority do you call the Bible the word of 
 God ? for this is the first point to be settled. It is not your 
 calling it so that makes it so, any more than the Mahometans 
 calling the Koran the word of God makes the Koran to be so. 
 The Popish Councils of Nice and Laodicea, about 350 years 
 after the time that the person called Jesus Christ is said to- 
 have lived, voted the books, that now compose what is called 
 the New Testament, to be the word of God. This was done by 
 yeas and nays, as we now vote a law. The Pharisees of the 
 second Temple, after the Jews returned from captivity in Baby 
 Ion. did the same by the books that now compose the Old Tes- 
 tament, and this is all the authority there is, which to me is no- 
 authority at all. I am as capable of judging for myself as they 
 were, and I think more so, because, as they made a living by 
 their religion, they had a self-interest in the vote they gave. 
 
 You may have an opinion that a man is inspired, but you 
 cannot prove it, nor can you have any proof of it yourself, be- 
 cause you cannot see into his mind in order to know how he 
 comes by his thoughts, and the same is the case with the word 
 revelation. There can be no evidence of such a thing, for you 
 can no more prove revelation than you can prove what another 
 man dreams of, neither can he prove it himself. 
 
 It is often said in the Bible that God spake unto Moses, 
 but how do you know that God spake unto Moses ? Because, 
 18
 
 274- A LETTER TO A FRIEND. 
 
 you will say, the Bible says so. The Koran says, that God 
 spake unto Mahomet; do you believe that too? No. Why 
 not? Because, you will say, you do not believe it; and so be- 
 cause you do, and because you don't, is all the reason you can 
 give for believing or disbelieving, except you will say that Ma- 
 homet was an impostor. And how do you know Moses was 
 not an impostor ? For my own part, I believe that all are im- 
 postors who pretend to hold verbal communication with the 
 Deity. It is the way by which the world has been imposed 
 upon ; but if you think otherwise you have the same right to 
 your opinion that I have to mine, and must answer for it in the 
 same manner. But all this does not settle the point, whether 
 the Bible be the word of God, or not. It is, therefore, neces- 
 sary to go a step further. The case then is : 
 
 You form your opinion of God from the account given of him 
 in the Bible; and I form my opinion of the Bible from the 
 wisdom and goodness of God, manifested in the structure of the 
 universe, and in all the works of the Creation. The result in 
 these two cases will be, that you, by taking the Bible for your 
 -standard, will have a bad opinion of God ; and I, by taking 
 Ood for my standard, shall have a bad opinion of the Bible. 
 
 The Bible represents God to be a changeable, passionate 
 vindictive being; making a world, and then drowning it, 
 -afterwards repenting of what he had done, and promising not 
 to do so again. Setting one nation to cut the throats of an- 
 other, and stopping the course of the sun till the butchery 
 should be done. But the works of God in the Creation preach 
 to us another doctrine. In that vast volume we see nothing 
 to give us the idea of a changeable, passionate, vindictive God ; 
 every thing we there behold impresses us with a contrary idea ; 
 that of unchangeableness and of eternal order, harmony, and 
 goodness. The sun and the seasons return at their appoin- 
 ted time, and every thing in the Creation proclaims that God 
 is unchangeable. Now, which am I to believe: a book that 
 any impostor may make, and call the word of God, or the Crea- 
 tion itself, which none but an Almighty Power could make ? 
 for the Bible- says one thing, and the Creation says the contrary. 
 The Bible represents God with all the passions of a mortal, and 
 the Creation proclaims him with all the attributes of a God. 
 
 It is from the Bible that man has learned cruelty, rapine, 
 and murder ; for the belief of a cruel God makes a cruel man. 
 That blood-thirsty man, called the prophet Samuel, makes God
 
 .A. LETTER TO A FRIEND. 275 
 
 to say (1 Sam. chap. xv. ver. 3), " Now go and smite Amalek 
 and utterly destroy all that they have, and spare them not, but 
 slay both man and woman, infant and suckling, ox and sheep, 
 Darnel and ass." 
 
 That Samuel, or some other impostor, might say this, is 
 what, at this distance of time, can neither be proved nor dis- 
 proved, but, in my opinion, it is blasphemy to say, or to believe 
 that God said it All our ideas of justice and goodness of God 
 revolt at the impious cruelty of the Bible. It is not a God, 
 just and good, but a devil, under the name of God, that the 
 Bible describes. 
 
 What makes this pretended order to destroy the Amalekites 
 appear the worse, is the reason given for it. The Amalekites, 
 four hundred years before, according to the account in Exodus, 
 ohap 17, (but which has the appearance of fable from the 
 magical account it gives of Moses holding up his hands,) had 
 opposed the Israelites coming into their country, and this the 
 Amalekites had a right to do, because the Israelites were the 
 invaders, as the Spaniards were the invaders of Mexico ; and 
 this opposition by the Amalekites, at that time, is given as a 
 reason that the men, women, infants and sucklings, sheep and 
 oxen, camels and asses, that were born four hundred years after- 
 wards, should be put to death ; and to complete the horror, 
 Samuel hewed Agag, the chief of the Amalekites, in pieces, as 
 you would hew a stick of wood. I will bestow a few observa- 
 tions on this case. 
 
 In the first place, nobody knows who the author, or writer, 
 of the book of Samuel was, and, therefore, the fact itself has 
 no other proof than anonymous or hearsay evidence, which is 
 no evidence at all. In the second place, this anonymous book 
 says, that this slaughter was done by the express command of 
 God : but all our ideas of the justice and goodness of God give 
 the lie to the book, and as I never will believe any book that 
 ascribes cruelty and injustice to God, I, therefore, reject the 
 Bible as unworthy of credit. 
 
 As I have now given you my reasons for believing that the 
 Bible is not the word of God, and that it is a falsehood, I have 
 a right to ask you your reasons for believing the contrary ; but 
 I know you can give me none, except that you were educated to 
 believe the Bible, and as the Turks give the same reason for 
 believing the Koran, it is evident that education makes all the 
 difference, and that reason and truth have nothing to do in the
 
 276 A LETTER TO A FRIEND. 
 
 case. You believe in the Bible from the accident of birth, and 
 the Turks believe in the Koran from the same accident, and 
 each calls the other infidel. But leaving the prejudice of educa- 
 tion out of the case, the unprejudiced truth is, that all are inn- 
 dels who believe falsely of God, whether they draw their creed 
 from the Bible, or from the Koran, from the Old Testament or 
 from the New. 
 
 When you have examined the Bible with the attention that 
 I have done (for I do not think you know much about it), and 
 permit yourself to have just ideas of God, you will most proba- 
 bly believe as I do. But I wish you to know that this answer 
 to your letter is not written for the purpose of changing your 
 opinion. It is written to satisfy you, and some other friends 
 whom I esteem, that my disbelief of the Bible is founded on a 
 pure and religious belief in God; for, in my opinion, the Bible- 
 is a gross libel against the justice and goodness of God> 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," <fec. What, my good friend, 
 do you call believing in God infidelity? for that is the great 
 point mentioned in the " Age of Reason " against all divided 
 beliefs and allegorical divinities. The Bishop of Llandaff (Dr. 
 Watson) not only acknowledges this, but pays me some compli- 
 ments upon it, in his answer to the second part of that work. 
 
 "There is (says he) a philosophical sublimity in some of your 
 ideas, when speaking of the Creator of the Universe."
 
 316 LETTEll TO SAMUML ADAMS. 
 
 What then (my much esteemed friend, for I do not respect 
 you the less because we differ, and that perhaps not much, in 
 religious sentiments), what, I ask, is the thing called infidelity 1 
 If we go back to your ancestors and mine, three or four hun- 
 dred years ago, for we must have fathers and grandfathers or 
 we should not have been here, we shall find them praying to 
 saints and virgins, and believing in purgatory and transubstan- 
 tiation ; and therefore, all of us are infidels according to our 
 forefather's belief. If we go back to times more ancient we 
 shall again be infidels according to the belief of some other 
 forefathers. 
 
 The case, my friend, is, that the world has been overrun 
 with fable and creed of human invention, with sectaries of 
 whole nations against other nations, and sectaries of those 
 sectaries in each of them against each other. Every sectary, 
 except the Quakers, have been persecutors. Those who fled 
 from persecution, persecuted in their turn, and it is this con- 
 fusion of creeds that has tilled the world with persecution, and 
 deluged it with blood. Even the depredation on your com- 
 merce by the Barbary powers, sprang from the crusades of the 
 church against those powers. It was a war of creed against 
 creed, each boasting of God for its author, and reviling earn 
 other with the name of infidel. If I do not believe as you be- 
 lieve, it proves that you do not believe as I believe, and this is 
 all that it proves. 
 
 There is, however, one point of union wherein all religions 
 meet, and that is in the first article of every man's creed, and 
 of every nation's creed, that has any creed at all, 7" believe in 
 God. Those who rest here, and there are millions who do, can- 
 not be wrong as far as their creed goes. Those who choose to 
 go further may be wrong, for it is impossible that all can be 
 right, since there is so much contradiction among them. The 
 first, therefore, are, in my opinion, on the safest side. 
 
 I presume you are so far acquainted with ecclesiastical his- 
 tory as to know, and the bishop who has answered me has been 
 obliged to acknowledge the fact, that the Books that compose 
 the New Testament, were voted by yeas and nays to be the 
 Word of God, as you now vote a law, by the Popish Council 
 of Nice and Laodicea, about fourteen hundred and fifty years 
 ago. .With respect to the fact there is no dispute, neither 
 do I mention it for the sake of controversy. This vote may 
 appear authority enough to some and not authority enough to
 
 LETTER TO SAMUEL ADAMS. 317 
 
 others. It is proper, however, that everybody should know 
 the fact. 
 
 With respect to the " Age of Reason," which you so much 
 condemn, and that, I believe, without having read it, for you 
 say only that you heard of it, I will inform you of a circum- 
 stance, because you cannot know it by other means. 
 
 I have said in the first page of the first part of that work, 
 that it had long been my intention to publish my thoughts 
 upon religion, but that I had reserved it to a later time of Ufe. 
 I have now to inform you why I wrote it, and published it at 
 the time I did. 
 
 In the first place, I saw my life in continual danger. My 
 friends were falling as fast as the guillotine could cut their heads 
 off, and as I expected every day the same fate, I resolved to 
 begin my work. I appeared to myself to be on my death bed, 
 for death was on every side of me, and I had no time to lose. 
 This accounts for my writing at the time I did, and so nicely did 
 the time and intention meet, that I had not finished the first 
 part of the work more than six hours before I was arrested and 
 taken to prison. Joel Barlow was with me, and knows the 
 fact. 
 
 In the second place, the people of France were running head- 
 long into atheism, and I had the work translated and published 
 in their own language, to stop them in that career, and fix 
 them to the first article (as I have before said) of every man's 
 creed, who has any creed at all, / believe in God. I endangered 
 my own life, in the first place, by opposing in the Convention 
 the executing of the king, and laboring to show they were 
 trying the monarch and not the man, and that the crimes im- 
 puted to him were the crimes of the monarchical system; and 
 endangered it a second time by opposing atheism, and yet some 
 of your priests, for I do not believe that all are perverse, cry 
 out, in the war-whoop of monarchical priestcraft, what an infidel ! 
 what a wicked man is Thomas Paine ! They might as well 
 add, for he believes in God, and is against shedding blood. 
 
 But all this war-whoop of the pulpit has some concealed 
 object. Religion is not the cause, but is the stalking-horse. 
 They put it forward to conceal themselves behind it. It is not 
 a secret that there has been a party composed of the leaders of 
 the Federalists, for I do not include all Federalists with their 
 leaders, who have been working by various means for several 
 years past, to overturn the Federal Constitution established on
 
 318 LETTER TO SAMUEL ADAMS. 
 
 the representative system, and place government in the new 
 world on the corrupt system of the old. To accomplish this a 
 large standing army was necessary, and as a pretence for such 
 an army, the danger of a foreign invasion must be bellowed 
 forth from the pulpit, from the press, and by their public 
 orators. 
 
 I am not of a disposition inclined to suspicion. It is in its 
 nature a mean and cowardly passion, and upon the whole, even 
 admitting error into the case, it is better, I am sure it is more 
 generous, to be wrong on the side of confidence than on the side 
 of suspicion. But I know as a fact, that the English Govern- 
 ment distributes annually fifteen hundred pounds sterling 
 among the Presbyterian ministers in England, and one hundred 
 among those of Ireland;* and when I hear of the strange dis- 
 courses of some of your ministers and professors of colleges I 
 cannot, as the Quakers say, find freedom in my mind to acquit 
 them. Their anti-revolutionary doctrines invite suspicion, even 
 against one's will, and in spite of one's charity to believe well of 
 them. 
 
 As you have given me one Scripture phrase, I wil give you 
 another for those ministers. It is said in Exodus, chapter xxii. 
 verse 28, " Thou shalt not revile the gods, nor curse the ruler 
 of thy people." But those ministers, such I mean as Dr. 
 Emmons, curse ruler and people both, for the majority are, 
 politically, the people, and ifc is those who have chosen the 
 ruler whom they curse. 
 
 As to the first part of the verse, that of not reviling the gods, 
 it makes no part of my Scripture: I have but one God. 
 
 Since I began this letter, for I write it by piecemeals as I 
 have leisure, I have seen the four letters that passed between 
 you and John Adams. In your first letter you say, " Let 
 divines and philosophers, statesmen and patriots, unite their 
 mdeavors to renovate the age, by inculcating in the minds of 
 youth the fear and love of the Deity and universal philan- 
 thropy" Why, my dear friend, this is exactly my religion, 
 and is the whole of it. That you may have an idea that the 
 "Age of Reason" (for I believe you have not read it) inculcates 
 this reverential fear and love of the Deity, I will give you a 
 paragraph from it. 
 
 * There must undoubtedly be a very gross mistake in respect to the 
 amount said to be expended ; the sums intended to be expressed were prob- 
 ably fifteen hundred thousand, and one hundred thousand pounds. EDITOR.
 
 LETTER TO SAMUEL ADAMS. 319 
 
 " Do we want to contemplate his power ? We see it in the 
 immensity of the Creation. Do we want to contemplate his 
 wisdom ? We s,ee it in the unchangeable order by which the 
 incomprehensible whole is governed. Do we want to contem- 
 plate his munificence ? We see it in the abundance with which 
 he fills the earth. Do we want to contemplate his mercy 1 We 
 see it in his not withholding that abundance even from the 
 unthankful." 
 
 As I am fully with you in your first part, that respecting 
 the Deity, so am I in your second, that of universal philan- 
 thropy; by which I do not mean merely the sentimental bene- 
 volence of wishing well, but the practical benevolence of doing 
 good. We cannot serve the Deity in the manner we serve 
 those who cannot do without that service. He needs no ser- 
 vices from us. We can add nothing to eternity. But it is in 
 our power to render a service acceptable to him, and that is, 
 not by praying, but by endeavoring to make his creatures 
 happy. A man does not serve God when he prays, for it is 
 himself he is trying to serve; and as to hiring or paying men 
 to pray, as if the Deity needed instruction, it is in my opinion 
 an abomination. One good school-master is of more use and of 
 more value than a load of such parsons as Dr. Emmons, and 
 some others. 
 
 You, my dear and much respected friend, are now far in the 
 vale of years; I have yet, I believe, some years in store, for I 
 have a good state of health and a happy mind; I take care of 
 both, by nourishing the first with temperance, and the latter 
 with abundance. 
 
 This I believe you will allow to be the true philosophy of 
 life. You will see by my third letter to the citizens of the 
 United States, that I have been exposed to, and preserved 
 through many dangers; but, instead of buffeting the Deity 
 with prayers, as if I distrusted him, or must dictate to him, I 
 reposed myself on his protection; and you, my friend, will find, 
 even in your last moments, more consolation in the silence of 
 resignation than in the murmuring wish of prayer. 
 
 In everything which you say in your second letter to John 
 Adams, respecting our rights as men and citizens in this world, 
 I am perfectly with you. On other points we have to answer 
 to our Creator and not to each other. The key of heaven is 
 not in the keeping of any sect, nor ought the road to it to be 
 obstructed by any. Our relation to each other in this world
 
 320 LETTER TO SAMUEL ADAMS. 
 
 is, as men, and the man who is a friend to man and to his 
 rights, let his religious opinions be what they may, is a good 
 citizen, to whom I can give, as I ought to do, and as every 
 other ought, the right hand of fellowship, and to none with 
 more hearty good will, my dear friend, than to you. 
 
 THOMAS PAINS, 
 FBDBBAI, Cm, Jan. 1, 1803.
 
 LETTER TO ME. DEAN. 821 
 
 EXTRACT FROM A 
 
 LETTER TO ANDEEW A. DEAN.* 
 
 RESPECTED FRIEND, 
 
 I RECEIVED your friendly letter, for which I am obliged to 
 you. It is three weeks ago to-day (Sunday, Aug. 15), that I 
 was struck with a fit of an apoplexy, that deprived me of all 
 sense and motion. I had neither pulse nor breathing, and the 
 people about me supposed me dead. I had felt exceedingly 
 well that day, and had just taken a slice of bread and butter, 
 for supper, and was going to bed. The tit took me on the 
 the stairs, as suddenly as if I had been shot through the head ; 
 and I got so very much hurt by the fall, that I have not been able 
 to get in and out of bed since that day, otherwise than being 
 lifted out in a blanket, by two persons ; yet all this while my 
 mental faculties have remained as perfect as L ever enjoyed 
 them. I consider the scene I have passed through as an ex 
 periment on dying, and I find that death has no terrors for me. 
 As to the people called Christians, they have no evidence that 
 their religion is true.f There is no more proof that the Bible 
 is the word of God, than that the Koran of Mahomet is the 
 word of God. It is education makes all the difference. Man, 
 before he begins to think for himself, is as much the child of 
 habit in Greeds as he is in ploughing and sowing. Yet creeds, 
 like opinions, prove nothing. 
 
 Where is the evidence that the person called Jesus Christ is 
 the begotten Son of God ? The case admits not of evidence 
 
 *Mr. Dean rented Mr. Paine's farm at New Rochelle. 
 
 fMr. Paine's entering upon the subject of religion on this occasion, it may 
 be presumed, was occasioned by the following passage in Mr. Dean's letter 
 to him, viz. : 
 
 "I have read with good attention your manuscript on dreams, and ex- 
 amination of the prophecies in the Bible. I am now searching the old pro- 
 phecies, and comparing the same to those said to be quoted in the New 
 Testament. I confess the comparison is a matter worthy of our serious at 
 tention ; I know not the result till I finish ; then if you be living, I shall 
 communicate the same to you ; I hope to be with you soon." 
 21
 
 322 LETTER TO MR. DEAN. 
 
 either to our senses or our mental faculties : neither has God 
 given to man any talent by which such a thing is comprehen- 
 sible. It cannot therefore be an object for faith to act upon, 
 for faith is nothing more than an assent the mind gives to 
 something it sees cause to believe is fact. But priests, preach- 
 3rs, and fanatics, put imagination in the place of faith, and it 
 is the nature of the imagination to believe without evidence. 
 
 If Joseph the carpenter dreamed (as the book of Matthew, 
 chap. 1st, says he did), that his betrothed wife, Mary, was with 
 child, by the Holy Ghost, and that an angel told him so, I am 
 not obliged to put faith in his dream, nor do I put any, for I 
 put no faith in my own dreams, and I should be weak and 
 foolish indeed to put faith in the dreams of others. 
 
 The Christian religion is derogatory to the Creator in all its 
 articles. It puts the Creator in an inferior point of view, and 
 places the Christian Devil above him. It is he, according to 
 the absurd story in Genesis, that outwits the Creator in the 
 garden of Eden, and steals from Lim his favorite creature, man, 
 and, at last, obliges him to beget a son, and put that son to 
 death, to get man back again, and this the priests of the Chris- 
 tian religion call redemption. 
 
 Christian authors exclaim against the practice of offering up 
 human sacrifices, which, they say, is done in some countries ; 
 and those authors make those exclamations without ever reflect- 
 ing that their own doctrine of salvation is founded on a human 
 sacrifice. They are saved, they say, by the blood of Christ. 
 The Christian religion begins with a dream and ends with a 
 murder. 
 
 As I am now well enough to sit up some hours in the day, 
 though not well enough to get up without help, I employ my- 
 self as I have always done, in endeavouring to bring man to the 
 right use of the reason that God has given him, and to direct 
 his mind immediately to his Creator, and not to fanciful second- 
 ary beings called mediators, as if God was superannuated or 
 ferocious. 
 
 As to the book called the Bible, is it blasphemy to call it the 
 word of God. It is a book of lies and contradiction, and a history 
 of bad times and bad men. There is but a few good characters 
 in the whole book. The fable of Christ and his twelve apostles, 
 which is a parody on the sun and the twelve signs of Zodiac, 
 copied from the ancient religions of the eastern world, is the 
 least hurtful part Everything told of Christ has reference to
 
 LETTER TO MR. DEAN. 323 
 
 the sun. Hia reported resurrection is at sunrise, and that on 
 the first day of the week ; that is, on the day anciently dedica- 
 ted to the sun, and from thence called Sunday ; in latin Dies 
 Soils, the day of the sun ; as the next day, Monday, is Moon- 
 day. But there is no room in a letter to explain these things. 
 
 While man keeps to the belief of one God, his reason unites 
 with his creed. He is not shocked with contradictions and 
 horrid stories. His bible is the heavens and the earth. He 
 beholds his Creator in all his works, and every thing he beholds 
 inspires him with reverence and gratitude. From the good- 
 ness of God to all, he learns his duty to his fellow man, and 
 stands self-reproved when he transgresses it Such a man is no 
 persecutor. 
 
 But when he multiplies his creed with imaginary things, of 
 which he can have neither evidence nor conception, such as the 
 tale of the garden of Eden, the talking serpent, the fall of man, 
 the dreams of Joseph the carpenter, the pretended resurrection 
 and ascension, of which there is even no historical relation, for 
 no historian of those times mentions such a thing, he gets into 
 the pathless region of confusion, and turns either frantic or 
 hypocrite. He forces his mind, and pretends to believe what 
 he does not believe. This is in general the case with the Metho- 
 dists. Their religion is all creed and no morals. 
 
 I have now my friend given you a fac smile of my mind on 
 the subject of religion and creeds, and my wish is, that you 
 make this letter as publicly known as you find opportunities 
 of doing. 
 
 Yours, in friendship, 
 
 THOMAS PAINE. 
 N. Y., Aug. 1806. 
 
 THE END.
 
 THB 
 
 POLITICAL WOKKS 
 
 THOMAS PAINE, 
 
 MOVBB OF THB " DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE," SECRETAKT OF FORBGH 
 
 AFFAIRS UNDER THE FIRST AMERICAN CONGRESS, AND MEMBER 
 
 OP THE NATIONAL CONVENTION OF FRANCS. 
 
 TlMM are Out time, that try man's io i la. ' " The world ii my country ; to do good, my religion." 
 
 CHICAGO AND NEW YORK : 
 
 BELFORD, CLARKE & CO. 
 
 1885.
 
 PRINTED AND BOUND BY 
 
 DONOHUE & HENNEBERRY, 
 
 CHICAGO.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 PERHAPS the sentiments contained in the following pages, art 
 not yet sufficiently fashionable to procure them general favor ; 
 a long habit of not thinking a thing wrong, gives it a superfi 
 cial appearance of being right, and raises at first a formidable, 
 outcry in defence of custom. But the tumult soon subsides. 
 Time makes more converts than reason. 
 
 As a long and violent abuse of power is generally the means 
 of calling the right of it in question, (and in matters too which 
 might never have been thought of, had not the sufferers beei. 
 aggravated into the inquiry,) and as the King of England hath 
 undertaken in his own right, to support the parliament in whal 
 he calls theirs, and as the good people of this country are griev- 
 ously oppressed by the combination, they have an undoubted 
 privilege to inquire into the pretensions of both, and equally to 
 reject the usurpations of either. 
 
 In the following sheets, the author hath studiously avoided 
 everything which is personal among ourselves. Compliments 
 as well as censure to individuals make no part thereof. The 
 wise and the worthy need not the triumph of a pamphlet ; 
 and those whose sentiments are injudicious or unfriendly, will 
 cease of themselves, unless too much pains is bestowed upon 
 their conversion. 
 
 The cause of America is, in a great measure, the cause of all 
 mankind. Many circumstances have, and will arise, which are
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 not local, but universal, and through which the principles of all 
 lovers of mankind are affected, and in the event of which, their 
 affections are interested. The laying a country desolate with 
 fire and sword, declaring war against the natural rights of all 
 mankind, and extirpating the defenders thereof from the face 
 of the earth, is the concern of every man to whom nature hath 
 qiven the power of feeling; of which class regardless of party 
 censure, ia 
 
 THB AUTHOB, 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, Feb. 14, &76,
 
 COMMON SENSE: 
 
 ADDRESSED TO THE INHABITANTS OP AMERICA, ON THB 
 FOLLOWING INTERESTING SUBJECTS, VIZ.: 
 
 L -OF THE ORIGIN AND DESIGN OF GOVERNMENT IN GENERAL, WITH 
 CONCISE EEMARKS ON THE ENGLISH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 II. OF MONARCHY AND HEREDITARY SUCCESSION. 
 HL THOUGHTS OF THE PRESENT STATE OF AMERICAN AFFAIRS. 
 
 IV. OF THE PRESENT ABILITY OF AMERICA, WITH SOME MISCELLANEOUS 
 REFLECTIONS. To WHICH is ADDED AN APPENDIX. 
 
 "Man knows no matter save creating heaven, 
 Or thow whom choice and common good ordain
 
 PUBLISHER'S INTRODUCTION. 
 
 "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 mistake 
 not, in concurrence with the transcendent folly and wickedness 
 of the ministry, give the coup-de-grace to Great Britain. In 
 short, I own myself convinced by the arguments, of the neces- 
 sity of separation." 
 
 General Washington, in a letter to Joseph Reed, Jan. 31, 
 1776, says : "A few more such naming 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 book" (Common Sense), says Dr. Rush, "burst forth 
 from the press with an effect that has been rarely produced by 
 types and paper, in any age or country."
 
 COMMON SENSE. 
 
 CH THE 
 
 ORIGIN AND DESIGN OF GOVERNMENI IN GENERAL, 
 
 WITH CONCISE REMARKS ON THK ENGLISH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 SOME writers have so confounded society with government, 
 as to leave little or no distinction between them ; whereas they 
 are not only different, but have different origins. Society is 
 produced by our wants, and government by our wickedness ; the 
 former promotes our happiness positively by uniting our affec- 
 tions, the latter negatively by restraining our vices. The one 
 encourages intercourse, the other creates distinctions The first 
 is a patron, the last is a punisher. 
 
 Society in every state is a blessing, but government, even in 
 its best state, is but a necessary evii ; in its worst state an in- 
 tolerable one ; for when we suffer or are exposed to the same 
 miseries by a government, which we might expect in a country 
 without government^ our calamity is heightened by reflecting 
 that we furnish the means by which we suffer. Government, 
 like dress, is the badge of lost innocence ; the palaces of kings 
 are built upon the ruins of the bowers of paradise. For, were 
 the impulses of <:onscience clear, uniformly and irresistibly 
 obeyed, man would need no other law-giver; but that not being 
 die case, he finds it necessary to surrender up a pai*t of his pro- 
 perty to furnish mean? for the protection of the rest ; and this 
 he is induced to do by the same prudence which in every other 
 case advises him out of two evils to choose the least Where- 
 fore, security being the true design and end of government, it 
 unanswerably follows that whatever form thereof appears most 
 likely to ensure it to us, with the least expense and greatest 
 benefit, is preferable to all others. 
 
 In order to gain a clear and just idea of the design and end 
 of government, let us suppose a small number of persons settled
 
 8 COMMON SE.NSE. 
 
 in some sequestered part of the earth, unconnected with the 
 rest, they will then represent the first peopling of any country, 
 or of the world. In this state of natural liberty, society will 
 be their first thought. A thousand motives will excite them 
 thereto ; the strength of one man is so unequal to his wants, 
 and his mind so unfitted for perpetual solitude, that he is soon 
 obliged to seek assistance and relief of another, who in his turn 
 requires the same. Four or five united, would be able to raise 
 a tolerable dwelling in the midst of a wilderness, but one man 
 might labor out the common period of life without accomplish- 
 ing anything ; when he had felled his timber he could not 
 remove it, nor erect it after it was removed ; hunger in the 
 meantime would urge him from his work, and every different 
 want would call him a different way. Disease, nay even mis- 
 fortune, would be death, for though neither might be mortal, yet 
 either would disable him from living, and reduce him to a state 
 in which he might rather be said to perish than to die. 
 
 Thus necessity, like a gravitating power, would soon form 
 our newly arrived emigrants into society, the reciprocal blessings 
 of which, would supersede, and render the obligations of law 
 and government unnecessary while they remained perfectly just 
 to each other , but as nothing but heaven is impregnable to 
 vice, it will unavoidably happen, that in proportion as they 
 surmount the first difficulties of emigration, which bound them 
 together in a common cause, they will begin to relax in their 
 duty and attachment to each other ; and this remissness will 
 point out the necessity of establishing some form of government 
 to supply the defect of moral virtue. 
 
 Some convenient tree will afford them a state house, under 
 the branches of which the whole colony may assemble to delib- 
 erate on public matters. It is more than probable that their 
 first laws will have the title only of Regulations, and be enforced 
 by no other penalty than public disesteem. In this first parlia- 
 ment every man by natural right will ha ve a seat. 
 
 But as the colony increases, the public concerns will increase 
 likewise, and the distance at which the members may be sepa 
 rated, will render it too inconvenient for all of them to meet on 
 every occasion as at first, when their number was small, their 
 habitations near, and the public concerns few and trifling. This 
 will point out the convenience of their consenting to leave the 
 legislative part to be managed by a select number chosen from 
 the whole body, who are supposed to have the same concerns at
 
 COMMON SENSE. 9 
 
 stake which those have who appointed them, and who will act 
 in the same manner as the whole body would, were they present. 
 If the colony continue increasing, it will become necessary to 
 augment the number of representatives, and that the interest 
 of every part of the colony may be attended to, it will be found 
 best to divide the whole into convenient parts, each part send- 
 ing its proper number ; and that the elected might never form 
 to themselves an interest separate from the electors, prudence 
 will point out the propriety of having elections often : because 
 as the elected might by that means return and mix again with 
 the general body of the electors, in a few months, their fidelity to 
 the public will be secured by the prudent reflection of not mak- 
 ing a rod for themselves. And as this frequent interchange 
 will establish a common interest with every part of the com- 
 munity, they will -mutually and naturally support each other, 
 and on this (not on the unmeaning name of King) depends the 
 strength of government and the happiness of the governed. 
 
 Here, then, is the origin and rise of government ; namely a 
 mode rendered necessary by the inability of moral virtue to 
 govern the world ; here too is the design and end of govern- 
 ment, viz., freedom and security. And however our eyes may 
 be dazzled with show, or our ears deceived by sound ; however 
 prejudice may warp our wills, or interest darken our under- 
 standing, the simple voice of nature and reason will say it is 
 right. 
 
 I draw my idea of the form of government from a principle 
 in nature, which no art cam overturn, viz., that the more simple 
 anything is, the less liable it is to be disordered; and the easier 
 repaired when disordered; and with this maxim in view, I offer 
 a few remarks on the so much boasted constitution of England. 
 That it was noble for the dark and slavish times in which it was 
 erected, is granted. When the world was overrun with tyranny 
 the least remove therefrom was a glorious rescue. But that it 
 is imperfect, subject to convulsions, and incapable of producing 
 what it seems to promise, is easily demonstrated. 
 
 Absolute governments (though the disgrace of human na- 
 ture) have this advantage with them that they are simple; if 
 the people suffer, they know the head from which their suffer- 
 ing springs, know likewise the remedy and are not bewildered 
 by a variety of causes and cures. But the constitution of Eng- 
 land is so exceedingly complex, that the nation may suffer for 
 years together without being able to discover in which nart the
 
 10 COMMON SENSE. 
 
 fault lies; some will say in one and some in another, and every 
 political physician will advise a different medicine. 
 
 I know it is difficult to get over local or long-standing preju 
 dices, yet if we will suffer ourselves to examine the component 
 parts of the English constitution, we shall find them to be the 
 base remains of two ancient tyrannies, compounded with some 
 new republican materials. 
 
 First. The remains of monarchical tyranny in the person of 
 the king. 
 
 Secondly. The remains of aristocratical tyranny in the per- 
 sons of the peers. 
 
 Thirdly. The new republican materials, in the persons of 
 the commons, on whose virtue depends the freedom of England. 
 
 The two first, by being hereditary are independent of the 
 people; wherefore in a constitutional sense they contribute 
 nothing to the freedom of the state. 
 
 To say that the constitution of England is a union of three 
 powers, reciprocally checking each otuer, is farcical; either the 
 words have no meaning, or they are flat contradictions. 
 
 To say that the commons is a check upon the king, presup- 
 poses two things. 
 
 First. That the king is not to be trusted without being 
 looked after, or in other words, that a thirst for absolute power 
 is the natural disease of monarchy. 
 
 Secondly. That the commons, by being appointed for tMt 
 purpose, are either wiser or more worthy of confidence than txir 
 crown. 
 
 But as the same constitution which gives the commons a 
 power to check the king by withholding the supplies, gives after- 
 wards the king a power to check the commons, by empowering 
 him to reject their other bills ; it again supposes that the king 
 is wiser than those whom it has already supposed to be wiser 
 than him. A mere absurdity ! 
 
 There is something exceedingly ridiculous in the composition 
 of monarchy ; it first excludes a man from the means of infor- 
 mation, yet empowers him to act in cases where the highest 
 judgment is required. The state of a king shuts him from the 
 world, yet the business of a king requires him to know it 
 thoroughly ; wherefore the different parts, by unnaturally oo- 
 posing and destroying each other, prove the whole character to 
 be absurd and useless. 
 
 Some writers have explained the Encash constitution thus :
 
 COMMON SENSE. 11 
 
 the king, say they, is one, the people another j the peers are a 
 house in behalf of the king ; the commons in behalf of the peo- 
 ple ; but this hath all the distinctions of a house divided against 
 itself ; and though the expressions be pleasantly arranged, yet 
 when examined they appear idle and ambiguous ; and it will 
 always happen, that the nicest construction that words are ca- 
 pable of, when applied to the description of something which 
 either cannot exist, or is too incomprehensible to be within 
 the compass of description, will be words of sound only, and 
 though they may amuse the ear, they cannot inform the mind, 
 for this explanation includes a previous question, viz.: How 
 came the king by a power which the people are afraid to trust, 
 ana always obliged to check ? Such a power could not be the 
 pit of a wise people, neither can any power, which needs check- 
 ^nf/, be from God ; yet the provision which the constitution 
 makes, supposes such a power to exist. 
 
 But the provision is unequal to the task ; the means either 
 cannot or will not accomplish the end ; and the whole affair is 
 &/elo de se; for as the greater weight will always carry up the 
 less, and as all the wheels of a machine are put in motion by 
 one, it only remains to know which power in the constitu- 
 tion has the most weight, for that will govern ; and though the 
 others, or a part of them may clog, or, as the phrase is, check 
 the rapidity of its motion, yet so long as they cannot stop it, their 
 endeavors will be ineffectual; the first moving power will at last 
 have its way, and what it wants in speed is supplied by time. 
 
 That the crown is this overbearing part in the English con- 
 stitution needs not be mentioned, and that it derives its whole 
 consequence merely from being the giver of places and pen- 
 sions is self-evident, wherefore, though we have been wise 
 enough to shut and lock a door against absolute monarchy, we 
 at the same time have been foolish enough to put the crown in 
 possession of the key. 
 
 The prejudice of Englishmen, in favor of their own govern- 
 ment, by kings, lords and commons, arises as much or more 
 from national pride as from anything. Individuals are und< m I >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 </' *.he 30th of December, printed by permission 
 of our enemies, says that * the Quakers begin to speak openly of their attach- 
 ment to the British constitution. " We are certain that we have many friends 
 among them and we wish to know them.
 
 THE CRISIS. 69 
 
 authority for believing it. George the third has imposed upon 
 us by the same arts, but time, at length, has done him justice, 
 and the same fate may probably attend your lordship. Your 
 avowed purpose here, is to kill, conquer, plunder, pardon, and 
 enslave; and the ravages of your army through the Jerseys have 
 been marked with as much barbarism as if you had openly pro- 
 fessed yourself the prince of ruffians; not even the appeal ance 
 of humanity has been preserved either on the march or the re- 
 treat of your troops; no general order that I could ever learn, 
 has ever been issued to prevent or even forbid your troops from 
 robbery, wherever they came, and the only instance of juslice, 
 if it can be called such, which has distinguished you for im- 
 partiality, is, that you treated and pundered all alike; what 
 could not be carried away has been destroyed, and mahogany 
 furniture has been deliberately laid on fire for fuel, rather than 
 that men should be fatigued with cutting wood.* There was a 
 time when the whigs confided much in your supposed candor, 
 and the tories rested themselves in your favour; the experiments 
 have now been made, and failed; in every town, nay, every 
 cottage, in the Jerseys, where your arms have been, is a testi- 
 mony against you. How you may rest under the sacrifice of 
 character I know not ; but this I know, that you sleep and rise 
 with the daily curses of thousands upon you ; perhaps the misery 
 which the tories have . suffered by your proffered mercy, may 
 give them some claim to their country's pity, and be in the end 
 the best favor you could show them. 
 
 In a folio general order-book belonging to Col. Rhol's bat- 
 talion, taken at Trenton, and now in the possession' of the coun- 
 cil of safety for this state, the following barbarous order is fre- 
 quently repeated, " His excellency the commander-in-chief, 
 orders that all inhabitants who shall be found with arms, not 
 having an officer with them, shall be immediately taken and 
 hung up." How many you may have thus privately sacrificed, 
 we know not, and the account can only be settled in another 
 world. Your treatment of prisoners, in order to distress them 
 to enlist in your infernal service, is not to be equalled by any 
 instance in Europe. Yet this is the humane lord Howe and 
 
 * As some people may doubt the truth of such wanton destruction, I think 
 it necessary to inform them, that one of the people called Quakers, who lives 
 at Trenton, gave me this information at the house of Mr. Michael Hutchin- 
 Bon (one of the same profession), who lives near Trenton ferry on the i j eun- 
 ylvania side, Mr. Hutchinson being present.
 
 70 THE CRISIS. 
 
 his brother, whom the tories and their three-quarter kindred, 
 the Quakers, or some of them at least, have been holding up for 
 patterns of justice and mercy! 
 
 A bad cause will ever be supported by bad means and bad 
 men; and whoever will be at the pains of examining strictly 
 into things, will find that one and the same spirit of oppression 
 and impiety, more or less, governs through your whole party in 
 both countries : not many days ago I accidentally fell in company 
 with a person of this city noted for espousing your cause, and 
 on my remarking to him, " that it appeared clear to me, by the 
 late providential turn of affairs, that God Almighty was visibly 
 on our side," he replied, " We care nothing for that, you may 
 have Him, and welcome ; if we have but enough of the devil 
 on our side, we shall do." However carelessly this might have 
 been spoken, matters not, 'tis still the insensible principle that 
 directs all your conduct, and will at last most assuredly deceive 
 and ruin you. 
 
 If ever a nation was mad or foolish, blind to its own interest 
 and bent on its own destruction, it is Britain. There are such 
 things as national sins, and though the punishment of individuals 
 may be reserved to another world, national punishment can only 
 be inflicted in this world. Britain, as a nation, is, in my in- 
 most belief, the greatest and most ungrateful offender against 
 God on the face of the whole earth; blessed with all the com- 
 merce she could have wished for, and furnished, by a vast ex- 
 tension of dominion, with the means of civilizing both the 
 eastern and western world, she has made no other use of both 
 than proudly to idolize her own "thunder," and rip up the 
 bowels of whole countries for what she could get. Like 
 Alexander, she has made war her sport, and inflicted misery 
 for prodigality's sake. The blood of India is not yet repaid, 
 nor the wretchedness of Africa yet requited. Of late she has 
 enlarged her list of national cruelties, by her butcherly de- 
 struction of the Caribbs of St. Vincent's, and returning an 
 answer by the sword to the meek prayer for "Peace, liberty and 
 safety " These are serious things, and whatever a foolish tyrant, 
 a debauched court, a trafficking legislature, or a blinded people 
 may think, the national account with heaven must some day 
 or other be settled; all countries have sooner or later been 
 called to their reckoning; the proudest empires have sunk when 
 the balance was struck; and Britain, like an individual peni- 
 tent must undergo her day of sorrow, and the sooner it happens
 
 THE CRISIS. 71 
 
 to her the better: as I wish it over, I wish it to come, but withal 
 wish that it may be as light as possible. 
 
 Perhaps your lordship has no taste for serious things; by 
 your connections with England I should suppose not : therefore 
 I shall drop this part of the subject, and take it up in a line in 
 which you will better understand me. 
 
 By what means, may I ask, do you expect to conquer America ? 
 If you could not affect it in the summer, when our army was 
 less than yours, nor in the winter, when we had none, how are 
 you to do it 1 In point of generalship you have been outwitted, 
 and in point of fortitude outdone; your advantages turn out to 
 your loss, and show us that it is in our power to ruin you by 
 gifts: like a game of drafts, we can move out of one square to 
 let you come in, in order that we may afterwards take two or 
 three for one: and as we can always keep a double corner for 
 ourselves, we can always prevent a total defeat. You cannot 
 be so insensible, as not to see that we have two to one the advant- 
 age of you, because we conquer by a drawn game, and you lose 
 by it. Burgoyne might have taught your lordship this know- 
 ledge; he has been long a student in the doctrine of chances. 
 
 I have no other idea of conquering countries than by sub- 
 duing the armies which defend them : have you done this, or 
 can you do it? If you have not, it would be civil in you to let 
 your proclamations alone for the present; otherwise, you will 
 ruin more tories by your grace and favor, than you will whigs 
 by your arms. 
 
 Were you to obtain possession of this city, you would not 
 know what to do with it more than to plunder it. To hold it 
 in the manner you hold New York, would be an additional 
 dead weight upon your hands: and if a general conquest is 
 your object, you had better be without the city than with it. 
 When you have defeated all our armies, the cities will fall into 
 your hands of themselves ; but to creep into them in the manner 
 you got into Princeton, Trenton, etc., is like robbing an orchard 
 in the night before the fruit be ripe, and running away in the 
 morning. Your experiment in the Jerseys is sufficient to teach 
 you that you have something more to do than barely to get into 
 other people's houses; and your new converts, to whom you 
 promised all manner of protection, and seduced into new guilt 
 by pardoning them for their former virtues, must begin to have 
 a very contemptible opinion both of your power and your policy. 
 Your authority in the Jerseys is now reduced to the small circle
 
 72 THB CRISIS. 
 
 which your army occupies, and your proclamatipn is no where 
 else seen unless it be to be laughed at. The mighty subduers 
 of the continent have retreated into a nut-shell, and the proud 
 f orgivers of our sins have fled from those they came to pardon 
 and all this at a time when they were despatching vessel aftei 
 vessel to England with the great news of every day. In short, 
 you have managed your Jersey expedition so very dexterously, 
 that the dead only are conquerors, because none will dispute 
 ^he ground with them. 
 
 In all the wars which you have formerly been concerned in, 
 you had only armies to contend with ; in this case you have both 
 an army and a country to combat with. In former wars, the 
 countries followed the fate of their capitals; Canada fell with 
 Quebec, and Minorca with Port Mahon or St. Phillips ; by sub- 
 duing those, the conquerors opened a way into, and became 
 masters of the country ; here it is otherwise ; if you get possess- 
 ion of a city here, you are obliged to shut yourselves up in it, 
 and can make no other use of it, than to spend your country's 
 money in. This is all the advantage you have drawn from New 
 York ; and you would draw less from Philadelphia, because it 
 requires more force to keep it, and is much further from the sea. 
 A pretty figure you and the tories would cut in this city, with 
 a river full of ice, and a town full of fire; for the immediate 
 consequence of your getting here would be, that you would be 
 cannonaded out again, and the tories be obliged to make good 
 the damage , and this sooner or later will be the fate of New 
 York. 
 
 I wish to see the city saved, not so much from military as 
 from natural motives. 'Tis the hiding place of women and 
 children, and lord Howe's proper business is with our armies. 
 When I put all the circumstances together which ought to be 
 taken, I laugh at your notion of conquering America. Because 
 you lived in a little country, where an army might run over the 
 whole in a few days, and where a single company of soldiers 
 might put a multitude to the rout, you expected to find it the 
 same here. It is plain that you brought over with you all the 
 narrow notions you were bred up with, and imagined that a 
 proclamation in the king's name was to do great things ; but 
 Englishmen always travel for knowledge, and your lordship, I 
 hope, will return, if you return at all, much wiser than you 
 came. 
 
 We may be surprised by events we did not expect and in that
 
 THE CRISIS. 73 
 
 interval of recollection you may gain some temporary advantage; 
 such was the case a few weeks ago, but we soon ripen again 
 into reason, collect our strength, and while you are preparing 
 for a triumph, we come upon you with a defeat. Such it has 
 been, and such it would be were you to try it a hundred times 
 over. Were you to garrison the places you might march over, 
 in order to secure their subjection (for remember you can do it 
 by no other means), your army would be like a stream of water 
 running to nothing. By the time you extended from New York 
 to Virginia, you would be reduced to a string of drops not 
 capable of hanging together ; while we, by retreating from state 
 to state, like a river turning back upon itself, would acquire 
 strength in the same proportion as you lost it, and in the end 
 be capable of overwhelming you. The country, in the mean- 
 time, would suffer, but it is a day of suffering, and we ought to 
 expect it. What we contend for is worthy the affliction we 
 may go through. If we get but bread to eat, and any kind of 
 raiment to put on, we ought not only to be contented, but thank- 
 ful. More than that we ought not to look for, and less than 
 that heaven has not yet suffered us to want. He that would 
 sell his birthright for a little salt, is as worthless as he who sold 
 it for porridge without salt. And he that would part with it 
 for a gay coat, or a plain coat, ought for ever to be a slave in 
 buff. What are salt, sugar and finery, to the inestimable 
 blessings of "Liberty and safety!" Or what. are the incon- 
 veniences of a few months to the tributary bondage of ages 1 
 The meanest peasant in America, blest with these sentiments, 
 is a happy man compared with a New York tory ; he can eat 
 his morsel without repining, and when he has done, can sweeten 
 it with a repast of wholesome air: he can. take his child by the 
 hand and bless it, without feeling the conscious shame of neg- 
 lecting a parent's duty. 
 
 In publishing these remarks I have several objects in view. 
 
 On your part they are to expose the folly of your pretended 
 authoi'ity as a commissioner; the wickedness of your cause in 
 general ; and the impossibility of your conquering us at any 
 rate. On the part of the public, my intention is, to show them 
 their true and solid interest; to encourage them to their own 
 good, to remove the fears and falsities which bad men have 
 spread, and weak men have encouraged; and to excite in all 
 men a love for union, and a cheerfulness for duty. 
 
 I shall submit one more case to you respecting your conquest
 
 74 THE CRISIS. 
 
 of this country, and then proceed to new observations. Sup- 
 pose our armies in every part of this continent were immediately 
 to disperse, every man to his home, or where else he might be 
 safe, and engage to re-assemble again on a certain future day ; 
 it is clear that you would then have no army to contend with, 
 yet you would be as much at a loss in that case as you are now ; 
 you would be afraid to send your troops in parties over the 
 continent, either to disarm or prevent us from assembling, lest 
 they should not return; and while you kept them together, having 
 no army of ours to dispute with, you could not call it a conquest;' 
 you might furnish out a pompous page in the London Gazette 
 or a new New York paper, but when we returned at the ap- 
 pointed time, you would have the same work to do that you had 
 at first 
 
 It has been the folly of Britain to suppose herself more 
 powerful than she really is, and by that means has arrogated to 
 herself a rank in the world she is not entitled to ; for more than 
 this century past she has not been able to carry on a, war without 
 foreign assistance. Marlborough's campaigns, and t>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, <fcc., and it was 
 necessary they should incense them against us, by assigning on 
 their own part some seeming reputable reason why. By divid- 
 ing, it had a tendency to weaken the states, and likewise to 
 perplex the adherents of America in England. But the prin- 
 cipal scheme, and that which has marked their character in every 
 part of their conduct, was a design of precipitating the colonies 
 into a state which they might afterwards deem rebellion, and, 
 under that pretence, put an end to a'l future complaints, peti- 
 tions and remonstrances, by seizing the whole at once. They 
 had ravaged one part of the globe till it could glut them no
 
 90 THE CRISIS 
 
 longer; their prodigality required new plunder, and through the 
 East India article, tea, they hoped to transfer their rapine from 
 that quarter of the world to this. Every designed quarrel had 
 its pretence; and the same barbarian avarice accompanied the 
 plant to America, which ruined the country that produced it. 
 
 That men never turn rogues without turning fools is a maxim, 
 sooner or later, universally true. The commencement of hos- 
 tilities, being in the beginning of April, was, of all times the 
 worst chosen : the congress were to meet the tenth of May fol- 
 lowing, and the distress the continent felt at this unparalleled 
 outrage gave a stability to that body which no other circum- 
 stance could have done. It suppressed, too, all inferior de- 
 bates, and bound them together by a necessitous affection, with- 
 out giving them time to differ upon trifles. The suffering, like- 
 wise, softened the whole body of the people into a degree of 
 pliability which laid the foundation-stone of union, order and 
 government; and which, at any other time, might only have 
 fretted and then faded away unnoticed and unimproved : but 
 Providence, who best knows how to time her misfortunes as well 
 as her immediate favors, chose this to be the time, and who dare 
 dispute it ? 
 
 It did not seem the disposition of the people, at this crisis, to 
 heap petition upon petition, while the former remained unan- 
 swered: the measure, however, was carried in congress, and a 
 second petition was sent; of which I shall only remark that it 
 was submissive even to a dangerous fault, because the prayer of 
 it appealed solely to what is called the prerogative of the crown, 
 while the matter in dispute was confessedly constitutional. 
 But even this petition, flattering as it was, was still not so har- 
 monious as the chyik of cash, and consequently not sufficiently 
 grateful to the tyrant and his ministry. From every circum- 
 stance it is evident that it was the determination of the British 
 court to have nothing to do with America but to conquer her 
 fully and absolutely. They were certain of success, and the 
 field of battle was the only place of treaty. I am confident 
 there are thousands and tens of thousands in America who 
 wonder now that they should ever have thought otherwise; but 
 the sin of that day was the sin of civility, yet it operated against 
 our present good in the same manner that a civil opinion of the 
 devil would against our future peace. 
 
 Independence was a doctrine scarce and rare, even towards 
 the conclusion of the year 1775; all our politics had been
 
 THE CRISIS. 91 
 
 founded on the hope or expectation of making the matter up 
 a hope, which, though general on the side of America, had 
 never entered the head or # heart of the British court. Their 
 hope was conquest and 'confiscation. Good heavens ! what 
 volumes of thanks does America owe to Britain ? What infi- 
 nite obligation to the tool that fills, with paradoxical va- 
 cancy, the throne ! Nothing but the sharpest essence of vil- 
 lainy, compounded with the strongest distillation of folly, could 
 have produced a menstrum that would have effected a separa- 
 tion. The congress in 1774 administered an abortive medicine 
 to independence, by prohibiting the importation of goods, and 
 the succeeding congress rendered the dose still more dangerous 
 by continuing it. Had independence been a settled system 
 with America (as Britain has advanced), she ought to have 
 doubled her importation, and prohibited in some degree her ex- 
 portation. And this single circumstance is sufficient to acquit 
 America before any jury of nations, of having a continental 
 plan of independence in view; a charge which, had it been true, 
 would have been honorable, but is so grossly false, that either 
 the amazing ignorance or the wilful dishonesty of the British 
 court, is effectually proved by it. 
 
 The second petition, like the first, produced no answer; it 
 was scarcely acknowledged to have been received; the British 
 court were too determined in their villainy even to act it art- 
 fully, and in their rage for conquest neglected the necessary sub- 
 tleties for obtaining it. They might have divided, disti-acted 
 and played a thousand tricks with us, had they been as cunning 
 as they were cruel. 
 
 This last indignity gave a new spring to independence. Those 
 who knew the savage obstinacy of the king, and the jobbing, 
 gambling spirit of the court, predicted the fate of the petition 
 as soon as it was sent from America; for the men being known, 
 their measures were easily foreseen. As politicians we ought 
 not so much to ground our hopes on the reasonableness of the 
 thing we ask, as on the reasonableness of the person of whom we 
 ask it; who would expect discretion from a fool, candor from a 
 tyrant, or justice from a villain ? 
 
 As every prospect of accommodation seemed now to fail fast, 
 men began to think seriously on the matter; and their reason 
 being thus stripped of the false hope which had long encom- 
 passed it, became approachable by fair debate ; yet still the bulk 
 of the people hesitated; they startled at the novelty of indepen-
 
 92 THE CRISIS. 
 
 dence, -without once considering that our getting into arms at 
 first Avas a more extraordinary novelty, and that all other na- 
 tions had gone through the work of independence before us. 
 They doubted likewise the ability of the continent to support it, 
 without reflecting that it required the same force to obtain an 
 accommodation by arms as an independence. If the one was 
 acquirable, the other was the same; because, to accomplish 
 either, it was necessary that our strength should be too great 
 for Britain to subdue; and it was too unreasonable to suppose, 
 that with the power of being masters, we should submit to be 
 servants.* Their caution at this time was exceedingly mis- 
 placed ; for if they were able to defend their property and main- 
 tain their rights by arms, they, consequently, were able to de- 
 fend and support their independence ; and in proportion as these 
 men saw the necessity and correctness of the measure, they 
 honestly and openly declared and adopted it, and the part that 
 they have acted since has done them honor and fully established 
 their characters. Error in opinion has this peculiar advantage 
 with it, that the foremost point of the contrary ground may at 
 any time be reached by the sudden exertion of a thought; and 
 it frequently happens in sentimental differences, that some 
 striking circumstance, or some forcible reason quickly conceived 
 will affect in an instant what neither argument nor example 
 could produce in an age. 
 
 I find it impossible in the small compass I am limited to, to 
 trace out the progress which independence has made on the 
 minds of the different classes of men, and the several reasons by 
 which they were moved. With some, it was a passionate ab- 
 
 * In this state of political suspense the pamphlet " Common Sense " made 
 its appearance, and the success it met with does not become me to mention. 
 Dr. Franklin, Mr. Samuel and John Adams, were severally spoken of as the 
 supposed author. I had not, at that time, the pleasure either of personally 
 knowing or being known to the two last gentlemen. The favor of Dr. 
 Franklin's friendship I possessed in England, and my introduction to this 
 part of the world was through his patronage. I happened, when a school - 
 DOf, to pick up a pleasing natural history of Virginia, and my inclination 
 f rom that day of seeing the western side of the Atlantic never left me. In 
 October, 1775, Dr. Franklin proposed giving me such materials as were in 
 his hands, towards completing a history of the present transactions, and 
 seemed desirous of having the first volume out next spring. I had then 
 formed the outlines of " Common Sense," and finished nearly the first part ; 
 and as I supposed the doctor's design in getting out a history was to open the 
 new year with a new system, I expected to surprise him with a production 
 on that subject much earlier than he thought of ; and without informing bin 1 
 what I was doing, got it ready for the press as fast as I conveniently could, 
 and sent him the first pamphlet that was printed off.
 
 THE CRISIS. 90 
 
 horence against the king of England and his ministry, as a set 
 of savages and brutes; and these men, governed by the agony 
 of a wounded mind, were for trusting every thing to hope and 
 heaven, and bidding defiance at once. With others, it was a 
 gaowing conviction that the scheme of the British court was to 
 create, ferment, and drive on a quarrel, for the sake of confis- 
 cated plunder ; and men of this class ripened into independence 
 in proportion as the evidence increased. While a third class 
 conceived it was the true interest of America, internally and 
 externally, to be her own master, and gave their support to 
 independence, step by step, as they saw her abilities to main- 
 tain it enlarge. With many, it was a compound of all these 
 reasons; while those who were too callous to be reached by 
 either, remained, and still remain tories. 
 
 The legal necessity of being independent, with several col- 
 lateral reasons, is pointed out in an elegant masterly manner, 
 in a charge to the grand jury for the district of Charleston, by 
 the Hon. William Henry Drayton, Chief Justice of South 
 Carolina. This performance, and the address of the convention 
 of New York, are pieces, in my humble opinion, of the first 
 rank in America. 
 
 The principal causes why independence has not been so uni- 
 versally supported as it ought, are fear and indolence, and the 
 causes why it has been opposed, are, avarice and down-right 
 villainy, and lust of personal power. There is not such a being 
 in America as a tory from conscience ; some secret defect or 
 other is interwoven in the character of all those, be they men 
 or women, who can look with patience on the brutality, luxury 
 and debauchery of the British court, and the violations of their 
 army here. A women's virtue must sit very lightly on her who 
 can even hint a favorable sentiment in their behalf. It is remark- 
 able that the whole race of prostitutes in New York were tories ; 
 and the schemes for supporting the tory cause in this city, for 
 which several are now in jail, and one hanged, were concerted 
 and carried on in common bawdy-houses, assisted by those who 
 kept them. 
 
 The connexion between vice and meanness is a fit subject for 
 satire, but when the satire is a fact, it cuts with the irresistible 
 power of a diamond. If a Quaker in defenee of his just rights, 
 his property and the chastity of his house, takes up a musket, 
 he is expelled the meeting; but the present king of England, 
 who seduced and took into keeping a sister of their society, is
 
 94 THE CRISIS. 
 
 reverenced and supported by repeated Testimonies, while the 
 friendly noodle from whom she was taken (and who is now in 
 this city) continues a drudge in the service of his rival, as if 
 proud of being cuckolded by a creature called a king. 
 
 Our support and success depend on such a variety of men and 
 circumstances, that every one who does but wish well, is of some 
 use; there are men who have a strange aversion to arms, yet 
 have hearts to risk every shilling in the cause, or in support of 
 those who have better talents for defending it. Nature, in the 
 arrangement of mankind, has fitted some for every service in 
 life; were all soldiers, all would starve and go naked, and were 
 none soldiers, all would be slaves. As disaffection to in- 
 dependence is the badge of a toiy, so affection to it is the mark 
 of a whig; and the different services of the whigs, down from 
 those who nobly contribute every thing, to those who have 
 nothing to render but their wishes, tend all to the same centre, 
 though with different degrees of merit and ability. The larger 
 we make the circle, the more we shall harmonize, and the 
 stronger we shall be. All we want to shut out is disaffection, 
 and, that excluded, we must accept from each other such duties 
 as we are best fitted to bestow A narrow system of politics, 
 like a narrow system of religion, is calculated only to sour the 
 temper, and be at variance with mankind. 
 
 All we want to know in Amerifca is simply this, who is for 
 independence, and who is not 1 ? Those who are for it, will sup- 
 port it, and the remainder will undoubtedly see the reasonable- 
 ness of paying the charges; while those who oppose or seek to 
 betray it, must expect the more rigid fate of the jail and the 
 gibbet. There is a bastard kind of generosity, which being 
 extended to all men, is as fatal to society, on one hand, as the 
 want of true generosity is on the other. A lax manner of 
 administering justice, falsely termed moderation, has a tendency 
 both to dispirit public virtue, and promote the growth of public 
 evils. Had the late committee of safety taken cognizance of 
 the last Testimony of the Quakers and proceeded against such 
 delinquents as were concerned therein, they had, probably, 
 prevented the treasonable plans which have been concerted 
 since. When one villain is suffered to escape, it encourages 
 another to proceed, either from a hope of escaping likewise, or 
 an apprehension that we dare not punish. It has been a matter 
 of general surprise, that no notice was taken of the incendiary 
 publication of the Quakers, of the 20th of November last ; a
 
 THE CRISIS. 95 
 
 publication evidently intended to promote sedition and treason, 
 and encourage the enemy, who were then within a day's march 
 of this city, to proceed on and possess it. I here present the 
 the reader with a memorial which was laid before the board of 
 safety a few days after the Testimony appeared. Not a mem- 
 ber of that board, that I conversed with, but expressed the 
 highest detestation of the perverted principles and conduct of the 
 Quaker junto, and a wish that the boari would take the matter 
 up; notwithstanding which, it was sufiered to pass away un- 
 noticed, to the encouragement of new acts o treason, the 
 general danger of the cause, and the disgrace of the state. 
 
 TO THE HONORABLE THE COUNCIL OF SAFETY OF THE 
 STATE OF PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 At a meeting of a reputable number of the inhabitants of the 
 city of Philadelphia, impressed with a proper sense of the justice 
 of the cause which this continent is engaged in, and animated 
 with a generous fervor for supporting the same, it was resolved, 
 that the following be laid before the board of safety : 
 
 "We profess liberality of sentiment to all men ; with this 
 distinction only, that those who do not deserve it would become 
 wise and seek to deserve it. We hold the pure doctrines of 
 universal liberty of conscience, and conceive it our duty to en- 
 deavor to secure that sacred right to others, as well as to defend 
 it for ourselves; for we undertake not to judge of the religious 
 rectitude of tenets, but leave the whole matter to Him who 
 made us. 
 
 "We persecute no man, neither will we abet in the persecu- 
 tion of any man for religion's sake; our common relation to 
 others being that of fellow-citizens and fellow-subjects of 
 one single community; and in this line of connexion we hold 
 out the right hand of fellowship to all men. But we should 
 conceive ourselves to be unworthy members of the free and in- 
 dependent states of America, were we unconcernedly to see or 
 to suffer any treasonable wound, public or private, directly or 
 indirectly, to be given against the peace and the safety of the 
 same. We inquire not into the rank of the offenders, nor into 
 their religious persuasion ; we have no business with either, our 
 part being only to find them out and exhibit them to justice. 
 
 "A printed paper, dated the 20th of November, and signed 
 'JohnPemlerton,' whom we suppose to be an inhabitant of this 
 city, has lately been dispersed abroad, a copy of which accom-
 
 THE CRISIS. 
 
 panies this. Had the framers and publishers of that paper 
 conceived it their duty to exhort the youth and others of their 
 society, to a patient submission under the present trying visita- 
 tions, and humbly to await the event of heaven towards them, 
 they had therein showed a Christian temper, and we had been 
 silent; but the anger and political virulence with which their 
 instructions are given, and the abuse with which they stigmatize 
 all ranks of men, not thinking like themselves, leave no doubt 
 on our minds from what spirit their publication proceeded : and 
 it is disgraceful to the pure cause of truth, that men can dally 
 with words of the most sacred import, and play them off as mechr 
 anically as if religion consisted only in contrivance. We know 
 of no instance in which the Quakers have been compelled to 
 bear arms, or to do anything which might strain their conscience, 
 wherefore their advice, 'to withstand and refuse to submit to 
 the arbitrary instructions and ordinances of men,' appear to 
 us a false alarm, and could only be treasonably calculated to gain 
 favor with our enemies when they are seemingly on the brink 
 of invading this state, or, what is still worse, to weaken the 
 hands of our defence, that their entrance into this city might 
 be made practicible and easy. 
 
 "We disclaim all tumult and disorder in the punishment of 
 offenders; and wish to be governed, not by temper but by reason, 
 in the manner of treating them. We are sensible that our cause 
 has suffered by the two following errors: first, by ill-judged 
 lenity to traitorous persons in some cases; and, secondly, by 
 only a passionate treatment of them in others. For the future 
 we disown both, and wish to be steady in our proceedings, and 
 serious in our punishments. 
 
 "Every state in America has, by the repeated voice of its 
 inhabitants, directed and authorised the continental congress to 
 publish a formal declaration of independence of, and separation 
 from, the oppressive king and parliament of Great Britain ; and 
 we look on every man as an enemy who does not in some line 
 or other, give his assistance towards supporting the same; at 
 the same time we consider the offence to be heightened to a 
 degree of unpardonable guilt, when such persons, under the 
 show of religion, endeavor, either by writing, speaking, or 
 otherwise, to subvert, overturn, or bring reproach upon the 
 independence of this continent as declared by congress. 
 
 " The publishers of the paper signed ' John Pemberton? have 
 called in loud manner to their friends and connexions, ' to with
 
 THE CRISIS. 
 
 stand or refuse' obedience to whatever 'instructions or ordin- 
 ances' may be published, not warranted by (what they call) 
 'that happy constitution under which they and others long en 
 joyed tranquillity and peace.' If this be not treason, we know 
 not what may properly be called by that name. 
 
 " To us it is a matter of surprise and astonishment, that men 
 with the word 'peace, peace,' continually on their lips, should 
 be so fond of living under and supporting a government, and 
 at the same time calling it 'happy,' which is never better pleased 
 than when at war that hath filled India with, carnage and 
 famine, Africa with slavery, and tampered with Indians and 
 negroes to cut the throats of the freemen of America. We 
 conceive it a disgrace to this state, to harbor or wink at such 
 palpable hypocrisy. But as we seek not to hurt the hair of 
 any man's head, when we can make ourselves safe without, we 
 wish such persons to restore peace to themselves and us, by 
 removing themselves to some part of the king of Great Britain's 
 dominions, as by that means they may live unmolested by us 
 and we by them ; for our fixed opinion is, that those who do 
 not deserve a place among us, ought not to have one. 
 
 " We conclude with requesting the council of safety to take 
 into consideration the paper signed ' John Pemberton,' and if it 
 shall appear to them to be of a dangerous tendency, or of a 
 treasonable nature, that they would commit the signer, together 
 wtih such other persons as they can discover were concerned 
 therein, into custody, until such time as some mode of trial shall 
 ascertain the full degree of their guilt and punishment; in the 
 doing of which, we wish their judges, whoever they may be, to 
 disregard the man, his connexions, interest, riches, poverty, or 
 principles of religion, and to attend to the nature of his offence 
 only." 
 
 The most cavilling sectarian cannot accuse the foregoing with 
 containing the least ingredient of persecution. The free spirit 
 on which the American cause is founded, disdains to mix with 
 such an impurity, and leaves it as rubbish fit only for narrow 
 and suspicious minds to grovel in. Suspicion and persecution 
 are weeds of the same dunghill, and flourish together. Had the 
 Quakers minded their religion and their business, they might 
 have lived through this dispute in enviable ease, and none 
 would have molested them. The common phrase with these 
 people is, 'Our principles are peace' To which may be replied, 
 and your practices are the reverse; for never did the conduct of 
 7
 
 98 THE CRISIS. 
 
 men oppose their own doctrine more notoriously than th<* 
 present race of the Quakers. They have artfully changed them- 
 selves into a different sort of people to what they used to be. 
 and yet have the address to persuade each other that they art 
 not altered; like antiquated virgins, they see not the havoc 
 deformity has made upon them, but pleasantly mistaking 
 wrinkles for dimples, conceive themselves yet lovely and wonder 
 at the stupid world for not admiring them. 
 
 Did no injury arise to the public by this apostacy of the 
 Quakers from themselves, the public would have nothing to do 
 with it; but as both the design and consequences are pointed 
 against a cause in which the whole community are interested, 
 it is therefore no longer a subject confined to the cognizance of 
 the meeting only, but comes, as a matter of criminality, before 
 either the authority of the particular state in which it is acted, 
 or of the continent against which it operates. Every attempt, 
 now, to support the authority of the king and parliament of 
 Great Britain over America, is treason against every state ; 
 therefore it is impossible that any one can pardon or screen from 
 punishment an offender against all. 
 
 But to proceed: while the infatuated tories of this and other 
 states were last spring talking of commissioners' accommoda- 
 tion, making the matter up, and the Lord knows what stufl 
 and nonsense, their good king and ministry were glutting them- 
 selves with the revenge of reducing America to unconditional 
 submission, and solacing each other with the certainty of con- 
 quering it in one campaign. The following quotations are 
 from the parliamentary register of the debates of the House of 
 Lords, March 5th, 1776. 
 
 "The Americans," says lord Talbot,* "have been obstinate, 
 undutiful, and ungovernable from the very beginning, from 
 their first early and infant settlements: and I am every day 
 more and more convinced that this people never will be brought 
 back to their duty, and the subordinate relation they stand in 
 to this country, till reduced to unconditional, effectual submis- 
 sion; no concession on our part, no lenity, no endurance, wili 
 have any other effect but that of increasing their insolence." 
 
 " The struggle," says lord Townsend,t " is now a struggle foi 
 power; the die is cast, and the only point which now remains 
 
 * Steward of the king's household. 
 
 t Formerly, General Townsend, at Quebec, and late lord-lieutenant of 
 Ireland.
 
 THE CRISIS. 99 
 
 to be determined, is, in what manner the war can be most 
 effectually prosecuted and speedily finished, in order to procure 
 that unconditional submission, which has been so ably stated 
 by the noble earl with the white staff;" (meaning lord Talbot,) 
 " and I have no reason to doubt that the measures now pursuing 
 will put an end to the war in the course of a single campaign. 
 Should it linger longer, we shall then have reason to expect 
 that borne foreign power will interfere, and take advantage of 
 our domestic troubles and civil distractions." 
 
 Lord Littleton : " My sentiments are pretty well known. I 
 shall only observe now that lenient measures have had no other 
 effect than to produce insult after insult; that the more we 
 conceded, the higher America rose in her demands, and the 
 more insolent she has grown. It is for this reason that I am 
 now for the most effective and decisive measures; and am of 
 opinion that no alternative is left us, but to relinquish America 
 for ever, or finally determine to compel her to acknowledge the 
 legislative authority of this country ; and it is the principle of 
 an unconditional submission I would be for maintaining." 
 
 Can words be more expressive than these ? Surely the tories 
 will believe the tory lords! The truth .is, they do believe them, 
 and know as fully as any whig on the continent knows, that 
 the king and ministry never had the least design of an accom- 
 modation with America, but an absolute, unconditional con- 
 quest. And the part which the tories were to act, was, by 
 downright lying, to endeavor to put the continent off its 
 guard and to divide and sow discontent in the minds of such 
 whigs as they might gain an influence over. In short, to keep 
 up a distraction here, that the force sent from England might 
 be able to conquer in "one campaign." They and the ministry 
 were, by a different game, playing into each other's hands. 
 The cry of the tories in England was, "No reconciliation, no 
 accommodation" in order to obtain the greater military force; 
 while those in America were crying nothing but "reconciliation 
 and accommodation" that the force sent might conquer with 
 the less resistance. 
 
 But this " single campaign " is over, and America not con- 
 quered. The whole work is yet to do, and the force much less 
 to do it with. Their condition is both despicable and deplorable : 
 out of cash out of heart, and out of hope. A country fur- 
 nished with arms and amunition, as America now is, with three 
 millions of inhabitants, and three thousand miles distant from
 
 100 THE CRISIS. 
 
 the nearest enemy that can approach her, is able to look ar.ti 
 laugh them in the face. 
 
 Howe appears to have two objects in view, either to go up 
 the North river, or come to Philadelphia. 
 
 By going up the North river, he secures a retreat for his 
 army through Canada, but the ships must return if they return 
 at all, the same way they went; as our army would be in the- 
 rear, the safety of their passage clown is a doubtful matter. Bv 
 such a motion he shuts himself from all supplies from Europe, 
 but through Canada, and exposes his army and navy to tin- 
 danger of perishing. The idea of his cutting off the communi 
 cation between the eastern and southern states, by means of the 
 North river, is merely visionary. He cannot do it by his ship- 
 ping, because no ship can lay long at anchor in any river within 
 reach of the shore ; a single gun would drive a first rate from 
 such a station. This was fully proved last October at forts 
 Washington and Lee, where one gun only, on each side of the 
 river, obliged two frigates to be cut and be towed off in an 
 hour's time. Neither can he cut it off by his army; because 
 the several posts they must occupy, would divide them almost 
 to nothing, and expose them to be picked up by ours like peb- 
 bles on a river's bank. But admitting that he could, where, is 
 the injury 1 Because, while his whole force is cantoned out, as 
 sentries over the water, they will be very innocently employed, 
 and the moment they march into the country the communi- 
 cation opens. 
 
 The most probable object is Philadelphia, and the reasons are 
 many. Howe's business is to conquer it, and in proportion as 
 he finds himself unable to the task, he will employ his strength 
 to distress women and weak minds, in order to accomplish 
 through their fears what he cannot accomplish by his own force. 
 His coming or attempting to come to Philadelphia is a circum- 
 stance that proves his weakness: for no general that felt him- 
 self able to take the field and attack his antagonist, would 
 think of bringing his army into a city in the summer time; and 
 this mere shifting the scene from place to place, without affect- 
 ing any thing, has feebleness and cowardice on the face of it, 
 and holds him up in contemptible light to all who can reason 
 justly and firmly. By several informations from New York, 
 it appears that their army in general, both officers and men, 
 have given up the expectation of conquering America ; their eye 
 now is fixed upon the spoil. They suppose Philadelphia to be
 
 THE CRISIS. 101 
 
 rich with stores, and as they think to get more by robbing a 
 town than by attacking an army, their movement towards this 
 eity is probable. We are not now contending against an army 
 of soldiers, but against a band of thieves, who had rather plun- 
 der than fight, and have no other hope of conquest than by 
 cruelty. 
 
 They expect to get a mighty booty, and strike another general 
 panic, by making a sudden movement and getting possession of 
 this city ; but unless they can march out as well as in. or get the 
 entire command of the river, to remove off their plunder, they 
 may probably be stopped with the stolen goods upon them. 
 They have never yet succeded wherever they have been opposed, 
 but at fort Washington. At Charleston their defeat was effec- 
 tual. At Ticonderoga they ran away. In the skirmish at 
 Kingsbridge and the White Plains they were obliged to retreat, 
 and the instant that our arms were turned upon them in the 
 Jesrseys, they turned likewise, and those that turned not were 
 taken, 
 
 The necessity of always fitting our internal police to the cir- 
 cumstances of the times we live in, is something so strikingly 
 obvious, that no sufficient objection can be made against it. 
 The safety of all societies depends upon it ; and where this point 
 is not attended to, the consequences will either be a general 
 languor or a tumult. The encouragement and protection of the 
 good subjects of any state, and the suppression and punishment 
 of bad ones, are the principal objects for which all authority is 
 instituted and the line in which it ought to operate. We have 
 in this city a strange variety of men and characters, and the 
 circumstances of the times require that they should be publicly 
 known; it is not the number of tories that hurt us, so much as 
 the not finding out who they are; men must now take one side 
 or the other, amd abide by *he consequences: the Quakers, 
 trusting to their short-sighted sagacity, have, most unluckily 
 for them, made their declaration in their last Testimony, and we 
 ought now to take them at their word. They have voluntarily 
 read themselves OUT; of continental meeting, and cannot hope to 
 be restored to it again but by payment and penitence. Men 
 whose political principles are founded on avarice, are beyond the 
 reach of reason, and the only cure of toryism of this cast is to 
 tax it. A substantial good drawn from a real evil is of the 
 same benefit to society as if drawn from a virtue ; and where 
 men have not public spirit to render themselves serviceable, it
 
 102 THE CRISIS. 
 
 ought to be the study of government to draw the best use possible 
 from their vices. When the governing passion of any man, or 
 set of men, is once known, the method of managing them is 
 easy; for even misers, whom no public virtue can impress, 
 would become generous, could a heavy tax be laid upon cov- 
 etousness. 
 
 The tories have endeavored to insure their property with the 
 enemy, by forfeiting their reputation with us; from which may 
 be justly inferred, that their governing passion is avarice. 
 Make them as much afraid of losing on one side as on the other, 
 and you stagger their torryism; make them more so, and you 
 reclaim them ; for their principle is to worship the power which 
 they are most afraid of. 
 
 This method of considering men and things together, opens 
 into a, large field for speculation, and affords me an opportunity 
 of offering some observations on the state of our currency, so as 
 to make the support of it go hand in hand with the suppression 
 of disaffection and the encouragement of public spirit. 
 
 The thing which first presents itself in inspecting the state 
 of the currency, is, that we have too much of it, and that there 
 is a necessity of reducing the quantity, in order to increase the 
 value. Men are daily growing poor by the very means that 
 they take to get rich ; for in the same proportion that the prices 
 of all goods on hand are raised, the value of all money laid by 
 is reduced. A simple case will make this clear; let a man 
 have a 100 in cash, and as many goods on hand as will to-day 
 sell for 20, but not content with the present market price, he 
 raises them to 40, and by so doing, obliges others, in their 
 own defence, to raise cent, per cent, likewise; in this case it is 
 evident that his hundred pounds laid by, is reduced fifty pounds 
 in value; whereas, had the market lowered cent, per cent, his 
 goods would have sold but for ten, but his hundred pounds 
 would have risen in value to two hundred, because it would 
 then purchase as many goods again, or support his family as 
 long again as before. And, strange as it may seem, he is one 
 hundred and fifty pounds the poorer for raising his goods, to 
 what he would have been had he lowered them; because the 
 forty pounds which his goods sold for, is, by the general raise 
 of the market cent, per cent., rendered of no more value than the 
 ten pounds would be had the market fallen in the same propor- 
 tion ; and, consequently, the whole difference of gain or loss is 
 on. the difference in value of the hundred pounds Jaid by, viz. t
 
 THE CRISIS. 103 
 
 from fifty to two hundred. This rage for raising goods is for 
 several reasons much more the fault of the tories than the whigs ; 
 and yet the tories (to their shame and confusion ought they 
 to be told of it) are by far the most noisy and discontented. 
 The greatest part of the whigs, by being either now in the army 
 or employed in some public service, are buyers only and not 
 sellers, and as this evil has its origin in trade, it cannot be 
 charged on those who are out of it. 
 
 But the grievance has now become too general to be remedied 
 by partial methods, and the only effectual cure is to reduce the 
 quantity of money : with half the quantity we should be richer 
 than we are now, because the value of it would be doubled, and 
 consequently our attachment to it increased; for it is not the 
 number of dollars a man has, but how far they will go, that 
 makes him either rich or poor. 
 
 These two points being admitted, viz., that the quantity of 
 money is too great, and that the prices of goods can only be 
 effectually reduced by reducing the quantity of the money, the 
 next point to be considered is, the method how to reduce it. 
 
 The circumstances of the times, as before observed, require 
 that the public characters of all men should now be fully under- 
 stood, and the only general method of ascertaining it is by an oath 
 or affirmation, renouncing all allegiance to the king of Great 
 Britain, and to support the independence of the United States, 
 as declared by congress. Let, at the same time, a tax of ten, 
 fifteen, or twenty per cent, per annum, be collected quarterly, 
 be levied on all property. These alternatives, by being per- 
 fectly voluntary, will take in all sorts of people. Here is the 
 test; here is the tax. He who takes the former, conscientiously 
 proves his affection to the cause, and binds himself to pay his 
 quota by the best services in his power, and is thereby justly 
 exempt from the latter; and those who choose the latter, pay 
 their quota in money, to be excused from the former, or 
 rather, it is the price paid to us for their supposed, though mis- 
 taken, insurance with the enemy. 
 
 But this is only a part of the advantage which would arise 
 by knowing the different characters of the men. The whigs 
 stake everything on the issue of their arms, while the tories, 
 by their disaffection, are sapping and , undermining their 
 strength; and, of consequence, the property of the whigs is the 
 more exposed thereby; and whatever injury their states may 
 sustain by the movements of the enemy, must either be borne
 
 104 THE 
 
 by themselves, who have done everything which has yet been 
 done, or by the tories, who have not only done nothing, but 
 have, by their disaffection, invited the enemy on. 
 
 In the present crisis we ought to know, square by square, and 
 house by house, who are in real allegicince with the United In- 
 dependent States, and who are not. Let but the line be made 
 clear and distinct, and all men will then know what they are 
 to trust to. It would not only be good policy but strict 
 justice, to raise fifty or one hundred thousand pounds, or more, 
 if it is necessary, out of the estates and property of the king of 
 England's votaries, resident in Philadelphia, to be distributed, 
 as a reward to those inhabitants of the city and state, who 
 should turn out and repulse the enemy, should they attempt to 
 march this way; and likewise, to bind the property of all such 
 persons to make good the damages which that of the whigs 
 might sustain. In the undistinguishable mode of conducting 
 war, we frequently make reprisals at sea, on the vessels of per- 
 sons in England, who are friends to our cause, compared with 
 the resident tories among us. 
 
 In every former publication of mine, from Common Sense 
 down to the last Crisis, I have generally gone on the charitable 
 supposition, that the tories were rather a mistaken than a 
 criminal people, and have applied argument after argument, with 
 all the candor and temper which I was capable of, in order to set 
 every part of the case clearly and fairly before them, and if 
 possible to reclaim them from ruin to reason. I have done my 
 duty by them, and have now done with that doctrine, taking it 
 for granted, that those who yet hold their disaffection, are either 
 a set of avaricious miscreants, who would sacrifice the continent 
 to save themselves, or a banditti of hungry traitors, who are 
 hoping for a division of the spoil. To which may be added, a 
 list of crown or proprietary dependants, who, rather than go 
 without a portion of power, would be content to share it with 
 the devil. Of such men there is no hope; and their obedience 
 will only be according to the danger set before them, and the 
 power that is exercised over them. 
 
 A time will shortly arrive, in which, by ascertaining the 
 characters of persons now, we shall be guarded against their 
 mischiefs then; for in proportion as the enemy despair of con- 
 quest, they will be trying the arts of seduction and the force of 
 fear by all the mischiefs which they can inflict. But in war we 
 may be certain of these two things, viz., that cruelty in an
 
 THE CRISIS. 105 
 
 enemy, and motions made with more than usual parade, are 
 always signs of weakness. He that can conquer finds his mind 
 too free and pleasant to be brutish ; and he that intends to 
 conquer, never makes too much show of his strength. 
 
 We now know the enemy we have to do with. While drunk 
 with the certainty of victory, they disdained to be civil ; and in 
 proportion as disappointment makes them sober, and their 
 apprehensions of an European war alarm them, they will become 
 cringing and artful; honest they cannot be. But our answer 
 to them, in either condition they may be in, is short and full 
 "As free and independent states we are willing to make peace 
 with you to-morrow, but we neither can hear nor reply in any 
 other character." 
 
 If Britain cannot conquer us, it proves that she is neither 
 able to govern nor protect us, and our particular situation now 
 is such, that any connexion with her would be unwisely ex- 
 changing a half-defeated enemy for two powerful ones. Europe, 
 by every appearance, is now on the eve, nay, on the morning 
 twilight of a war, and any alliance with George the third, brings 
 France and Spain upon our backs; a separation from him 
 attaches them to our side; therefore, the only road to peace, 
 honor and commerce, is Independence. 
 
 Written this fourth year of the UNION, which God preserve. 
 
 SBXSE. 
 , AprH 19, 7777. 
 
 NUMBER IV. 
 
 THOSE who expect to reap the blessings of freedom, must, like 
 men, undergo the fatigues of supporting it. The event of yes- 
 terday was one of those kind alarms which is just sufficient to 
 rouse us to duty, without being of consequence enough to 
 depress our fortitude. It is not a field of a few acres of ground, 
 but a cause, that we are defending, and whether we defeat the 
 enemy in one battle, or ly degrees, the consequence will be the 
 same. 
 
 Look back at the events of last winter and the present year; 
 there you will find that the enemy's successes always contri- 
 buted to reduce them. What they have gained in ground, they 
 t>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 interide<l 
 to have withdrawn the garrison from fort Washington after it 
 had answered the former of those purposes, but the fate of that 
 day put a prize into your hands without much honor to your- 
 selves. 
 
 Your progress through the Jerseys was accidental; you had it 
 not even in contemplation, or you would not have sent a principal 
 part of your forces to Rhode Island before hand. The utmost 
 hope of America in the year 1776 reached no higher than that 
 she might not then be conquered. She had no expectation of 
 defeating you in that campaign. Even the most cowardly tory 
 allowed that, could she withstand the shock of that summer her 
 independence would be past a doubt. You had then greatly the 
 advantage of her. You were formidable. Your military know- 
 ledge was supposed to be complete. Your fleets and forces 
 arrived without an accident You had neither experience nor 
 reinforcements to wait for. You had nothing to do but to begin, 
 and your chance lay in the first vigorous onset. 
 
 America was young and unskilled. She was obliged to trust 
 her defence to time and practice; and hath, by mere dint of 
 perseverence, maintained her cause, and brought the enemy to 
 a condition, in which she is now capable of meeting him on any 
 grounds. 
 
 It is remarkable that in the campaign of 1776, you gained no 
 more, notwithstanding your great force, than what was given 
 you by consent of evacuation, except fort Washington; while 
 every advantage obtained by us was by fair and hard fighting. 
 The defeat of Sir Peter Parker was complete. The conquest of 
 the Hessians at Trenton, by the remains of a retreating army, 
 which but a few days before you affected to despise, is an in- 
 stance of their heroic perseverance very seldom to be met with. 
 And the victory over the British troops at Princeton, by a har- 
 assed and weary party, who had been engaged the day before
 
 THE CRISIS. 115 
 
 and marched all night without refreshment, is attended with 
 such a scene of circumstances and superiority of genei-alship, as 
 will ever give it a place in the first rank in the history of great 
 action, s 
 
 When I look back on the gloomy days of last winter and see 
 America suspended by a thread, I feel a triumph of joy at the 
 recollection of her delivery, and a reverence for tho characters 
 which snatched her from destruction. To doubt now would be 
 a species of infidelity, and to forget the instruments which saved 
 us then would be ingratitude. 
 
 The close of that campaign left us with the spirit of conquer- 
 ors. The -northern districts were relieved by the retreat of 
 General Carletoii over the lakes. The army under your com- 
 mand were hunted back arid had their bounds prescribed. The 
 continent began to feel its military importance, and the winter 
 passed pleasantly away in preparations for the next campaign. 
 
 However confident you might be on your first arrival, the 
 result of the year 1776 gave you some idea of the difficulty, if 
 not impossibility of conquest. To this reason I ascribe your 
 delay in opening the campaign of 1777. The face of matters, 
 011 the close of the former year, gave you no encouragement to 
 pursue a discretionary war as soon as the spring admitted the 
 taking the field; for though conquest, in that case, would have 
 given you a double portion of fame, yet the experiment was too 
 hazardous. The ministry, had you failed, would have shifted 
 the whole blame upon you, charged you with having acted 
 without orders, and condemned at once both your plan and 
 execution. 
 
 To avoid the misfortunes, which might have involved you 
 and your money accounts in perplexity and suspicion, you pru- 
 dently waited the arrival of a plan of operations from England, 
 which was that you should proceed to Philadelphia by way of 
 the Chesapeake, and that Burgoyne, after reducing Ticon- 
 deroga, should take his route by Albany, and, if necessary, join 
 you. 
 
 The splendid laurels of the last campaign have flourished in 
 the north. In that quarter America has surpised the world, 
 and laid the foundation of this year's glory. The conquest of 
 Ticonderoga (if it may be called a conquest) has, like all your 
 other victories, led on to ruin. Even the provisions taken in 
 that fortress (which by General Burgoyne's return was sufficient 
 in bread and flour for nearly 5,000 men for ten weeks, and in
 
 116 THE CRISIS. 
 
 beef and pork for the same number of men for one month) 
 served only to haste n his overthrow, by enabling him to proceed 
 to Pamtojya, the place of his destruction. A short review of 
 the operations of the last campaign will show the condition of 
 affairs on both sides. 
 
 You have taken Ticonderoga and marched into Philadelphia. 
 These are all the events which the year hath produced on your 
 part. A trifling campaign indeed, compared with the expenses 
 of England and the conquest of the continent. On the other 
 side, a considerable part of your northern force has been routed 
 by the New York militia under General Herkemer. Fort 
 Stemwix has bravely survived a compound attack of soldiers 
 and savages, and the besiegers have fled. The battle of Ben- 
 nington has put a thousand prisoners into our hands, with all 
 their arms, stores, artillery and baggage. General Burgoyne. 
 in two engagements, has been defeated ; himself, his army, and 
 all that were his and theirs are now ours. Ticonderoga and 
 Independence are retaken, and not the shadow of an enemy 
 remains in all the northern districts. At this instant we have 
 upwards of eleven thousand prisoners, between sixty and severity 
 pieces of brass ordnance, besides small arms, tents, stores, &c. 
 
 In order to know the real value of those advantages, we must 
 reverse the scene, and suppose General Gates and the force he 
 commanded to be at your mercy as prisoners, and General Bur- 
 goyne, with his army of soldiers and savages, to be already 
 joined to you in Pennsylvania. So dismal a picture can scarcely 
 be looked at. It has all the tracings and colorings of horror 
 and despair; and excites the most swelling emotions of grati- 
 tude, by exhibiting the miseries we are so graciously preserved 
 from. 
 
 I admire the distribution of laurels around the continent. 
 It is the earnest of future union. South Carolina has had her 
 day of sufferings and of fame; and the other southern states 
 have exerted themselves in proportion to the force that invaded 
 or insulted them. Towards the close of the campaign in 1776, 
 these middle states were called upon and did their duty nobly. 
 They were witnesses to the almost expiring flame of human 
 freedom. It was the close struggle of life and death. The line 
 of invisible division: and on which, the unabated fortitude of a 
 Washington prevailed, and saved the spark that has since blazed 
 in the north with unrivalled lustre. 
 
 Let me ask, sir, what great exploits have you performed 1
 
 THE CRISIS. 117 
 
 Through all the variety of changes and opportunities which the 
 war has produced, I know no one action of yours that can be 
 styled masterly. You have moved in and out, backwards and 
 forwards, round and round, as if valor consisted of a military 
 jig. The history and figure of your movements would be truly 
 ridiculous could they be justly delineated. They resemble the 
 labors of a puppy pursuing his tail; the end is still at the same 
 distance, and all the turnings round must be done over again. 
 
 The first appearance of affairs of Ticonderoga wore such an 
 unpromising aspect, that it was necessary, in July, to detach a 
 part of the forces to the support of that quarter, which were 
 otherwise destined or intended to act against you ; and this, per- 
 haps, has been the means of postponing your downfall to 
 another campaign. The destruction of one army at a time is 
 work enough. We know, sir, what we are about, what we have 
 to do, and how to do it. 
 
 Your progress from the Chesapeake was marked by no capi- 
 tal stroke of policy or heroism. Your principal aim was to get 
 General Washington between the Delaware and Schuykil, and 
 between Philadelphia and your army. In that situation, with 
 a river on each side of his flanks, which united about five miles 
 below the city, and your army above him, you could have inter- 
 cepted his reinforcements and supplies, cut ofi all his communi- 
 cations with the country, and, if necessary, have despatched 
 assistance to open a passage for General Burgoyne. This 
 scheme was too visible to succeed : for had General Washington 
 suffered you to command the open country above him, I think 
 it a very reasonable conjecture that the conquest of Burgoyne 
 would not have taken place, because you could, in that case, 
 have relieved him. It was therefore necessary, while that im- 
 portant victory was in suspense, to trepan you into a situation 
 in which you could only be on the defensive, without the power 
 of affording him assistance. The manoeuvre had its effect, and 
 Burgoyne was conquered. 
 
 There has been something unmilitary and passive in you from 
 the time of your passing the Schuykill and getting possession of 
 Philadelphia, to the close of the campaign. You mistook a trap 
 for a conquest, the probability of which had been made known 
 to Europe, and the edge of your triumph taken off by your own 
 information long before. 
 
 Having got you into this situation, a scheme for a general 
 attack upon you at Germantown was carried into execution on
 
 118 THE CRISIS. 
 
 the 4th of October, and though the success was not equal to the 
 excellence of the plan, yet the attempting it proved the genius 
 of America to be on the rise, and her power approaching to 
 superiority. The obscurity of the morning was your best friend, 
 for a fog is always favorable to a hunted enemy. Some weeks 
 after this you likewise planned an attack on General Washing- 
 ton, while at Whitemarsh. You marched out with infinite 
 parade, but on finding him preparing to attack you next morn- 
 ing, you prudently turned about, and retreated to Philadelphia 
 with all the precipitation of a man conquered in imagination. 
 
 Immediately after the battle of Germantown, the probability 
 of Burgoyne's defeat gave a new policy to affairs in Pennsyl- 
 vania, and it was judged most consistent with the general safety 
 of America, to wait the issue of the northern campaign. Slow 
 and sure is sound work. The news of that victory arrived in 
 our camp on the 18th of October, and no sooner did the shout 
 of joy and the report of the thirteen cannon reach your 
 ears, than you resolved upon a retreat, and the next day, that 
 is, the 19th, you withdrew your drooping army into Philadel- 
 phia. This movement was evidently dictated by fear; and 
 carried with it a positive confession that you dreaded a second 
 attack. It was hiding yourself among women and children, 
 and sleeping away the choicest part of a campaign in expensive 
 inactivity. An army in a city can never be a conquering army. 
 The situation admits only of defence. It is mere shelter : and 
 every military power in Europe will conclude you to be eventu- 
 ally "defeated. 
 
 The time when you made this retreat was the very time you 
 ought to have fought a battle in order to put yourself in a con- 
 dition of recovering in Pennsylvania what you had lost in 
 Saratoga. And the reason why you did not must be either 
 prudence or cowardice ; the former supposes your inability, and 
 the latter needs no explanation I draw no conclusions, sir, but 
 such as are naturally deduced from known and visible facts, 
 and such as will always have a being while the facts which pro- 
 duced them remain unaltered. 
 
 After this retreat a new difficulty arose which exhibited the 
 power of Britain in a very contemptible light; which was the 
 attack and defence of Mud-Island. For several weeks did that 
 little unfinished fortress stand out against all the attempts of 
 admiral and general Howe. It was the fable of Bender real- 
 ized on the Delaware. Scheme after scheme, and force upon
 
 THE CRISIS. 119 
 
 force were tried and defeated. The garrison, with scarce any- 
 thing to cover them but their bravery, survived in the midst of 
 mud, shot and shells, and were at last obliged to give it up more 
 to the powers of time and gunpowder than to the mmtary 
 superiority of the besiegers. 
 
 It is my sincere opinion that matters are in a much worse 
 condition with you than what is generally known. Your mas- 
 ter's speech at the opening of parliament, is like a soliloquy on 
 ill luck. It shows him to be coming a little to his reason, for 
 sense of pain is the first symptom of recovery in profound 
 stupefaction. His condition is deplorable. He is obliged to 
 submit to all the insults of France and Spain, without daring 
 to know or resent them; and thankful for the most trivial 
 evasions to the most humble remonstrances. The time was 
 when he could not deign an answer to a petition from America, 
 and the time now is when he dare not give an answer to an 
 affront from France. The capture of Burgoyne's army will sink 
 his consequence as much in Europe as in America. In his 
 speech he expresses his suspicions at the warlike preparations of 
 France and Spain, and as he has only the one army which you 
 command to support his character in the world with, it remains 
 very uncertain when, or in what quarter it will be most wanted, 
 or can be best employed ; and this will partly account for the 
 great care you take to keep it from action and attacks, for 
 should Burgoyne's fate be yours, which it probably will, Eng- 
 land may take her endless farewell not only of all America but 
 of all the West-Indies. 
 
 Never did a nation invite destruction upon itself with the 
 eagerness and the ignorance with which Britain has done. 
 Bent upon the ruin of a young and unoffending country, she 
 has drawn the sword that has wounded herself to the heart, 
 and in the agony of her resentment has applied a poison for a 
 cure. Her conduct towards America is a compound of rage 
 and lunacy; she aims at the government of it, yet preserves 
 neither dignity nor character in her methods to obtain it. 
 Were government a mere manufacture or article of commerce, 
 immaterial by whom it should be made or sold, we might as 
 well employ her as another, but when we consider it as the 
 fountain from whence the general manners and morality of a 
 country take their rise, that the persons intrusted with the 
 execution thereof are by their serious example and authority 
 to support these principles, how abominably absurd is the idea
 
 120 THE CRISIS. 
 
 of being hereafter governed by a set of men who have been 
 guilty of forgery, perjury, treachery, theft, and every species of 
 villainy which the lowest wretches on earth could practise or 
 invent. What greater public curse can befall any country than 
 to be under such authority, and what greater blessing than to 
 be delivered therefrom. The soul of any man of sentiment 
 would rise in brave rebellion against them, and spurn them from 
 the earth. 
 
 The malignant and venomous tempered General "Vaughan has 
 amused his savage fancy in burning the whole town of Kings- 
 ton, in York government, and the late governor of that state, 
 Mr. Tyron, in his letter to General Parsons, has endeavored 
 to justify it, and declared his wish to burn the houses of every 
 committeeman in the country. Such a confession from one who 
 was once intrusted with the powers of civil government is a 
 reproach to the character. But it is the wish and the declara- 
 tion of a man, whom anguish and disappointment have driven 
 to despair, and who is daily decaying into the grave with con- 
 stitutional rottenness. 
 
 There is not in the compass of language a sufficiency of words 
 to express the baseness of your king, his ministry and his army. 
 They have refined upon villainy till it wants a name. To the 
 fiercer vices of former ages they have added the dregs and 
 scummings of the most finished rascality, and are so completely 
 sunk in serpentine deceit, that there is not left among them one 
 generous enemy. 
 
 From such men and such masters, may the gracious hand of 
 Heaven preserve America! And though the sufferings she now 
 endures are heavy, and severe, they are like straws in the wind 
 compared to the weight of evils she would feel under the gov- 
 ernment of your king, and his pensioned parliament. 
 
 There is something in meanness which excites a species of 
 resentment that never subsides, and something in cruelty which 
 stirs up the heart to the highest agony of human hatred; 
 Britain hath filled up both these charac3ters till no addition can 
 be made, and hath not reputation left with us to obtain credit 
 for the slightest promise. The will of God hath parted us, and 
 the deed is registered for eternity. When she shall be a spot 
 scarcely visible among the nations, America shall flourish the 
 favorite of heaven, and the friend of mankind. 
 
 For the domestic happiness of Britain and the peace of the 
 world, I wish she had not a foot of land but what is circum-
 
 THE CRISIS. 121 
 
 scribed within her own island. Extent of dominion has been 
 her ruin, and instead of civilizing others has brutalized herself. 
 Her late reduction of India, under Clive and his successors, 
 was not so properly a conquest as an extermination of mankind. 
 She is the only power who could practise the prodigal barbarity 
 of tying men to the mouths of loaded cannon and blowing them 
 away. It happens that General Burgoyne, who made the report 
 of that horrid transaction, in the house of commons, is now a 
 prisoner with us, and though an enemy, I can appeal to him for 
 the truth of it, being confident that he neither can nor will deny 
 it. Yet Clive received the approbation of the last parliament. 
 
 When we take a survey of mankind, we cannot help cursing 
 the wretch, who, to the unavoidable misfortunes of nature, shall 
 wilfully add the calamities of war. One would think there 
 were evils enough in the world without studying to increase 
 them, and that life is sufficiently short without shaking the sand 
 that measures it The histories of Alexander and Charles of 
 Sweden are the histories of human devils; a good man cannot 
 think of their actions without abhorrence, nor of their deaths 
 without rejoicing. To soe tho bounties of heaven destroyed, 
 the beautiful face of nature laid waste, and the choicest works 
 of creation and art tumbled into ruin, would fetch a curse from 
 the soul of piety itself. But in this country the aggravation 
 is heightened by a new combination of affecting circumstances. 
 America was young, and, compared with other countries, was 
 virtous. None but a Herod of uncommon malice would have 
 made war upon infancy and innocence and none but a people 
 of the most finished fortitude, dared under those circumstances, 
 have resisted tb tyranny The natives, or their ancestors, had 
 fled from the fnrn,.-r oppressions of England, and with the in- 
 dustry of bees hail Inured a wilderness into a habitable world. 
 To Britain they were indebted for nothing. The country was 
 the gift of heaven, and God alone is their Lord and Sovereign. 
 
 The time, sir, will come when you, in a melancholy hour, 
 shall reckon up your miseries by your murders in America. 
 Life, with you, begins to wear a clouded aspect. The vision of 
 pleasurable delusion is wearing away, and changing to the barren 
 wild of age and sorrow. The poor reflection of having served 
 your king will yield you no consolation in your parting moments. 
 He will crumble to the same undistinguished ashes with your- 
 self, and have sins enough of his own to answer for. It is not 
 the farcial benedictions of a bishop, nor the cringing hypocrisy
 
 122 THE CRISIS. 
 
 of a court of chaplains, nor the formality of an act of parlia- 
 ment, that can change guilt into innocents, or make the punish 
 ment one pang the less. You may, perhaps, be unwilling to be 
 serious, but this destruction of the good of Providence, this 
 havoc of the human race, and this sowing the world with mis- 
 chief, must be accounted for to him who made and governs it. 
 To us they are only present sufferings, but to him they are deep 
 rebellions. 
 
 If there is a sin superior to every other, it is that of wilf u I 
 and offensive war. Most other sins are circumscribed within 
 narrow limits, that is, the power of one man cannot give them 
 a very general extension, and many kinds of sins have only a 
 mental existence from which no infection arises : but he who is 
 the author of a war, lets loose the whole contagion of hell, and 
 opens a vein that bleeds a nation to death. We leave it to 
 England and Indians to boast of these honors; we feel no thirst 
 for such savage glory; a nobler fame, a purer spirit animates 
 America. She has taken Tip the sword of virtuous defence ; she 
 has bravely put herself between Tyranny and Freedom, between 
 a curse and a blessing, determined to expel the one and protect 
 the other, 
 
 It is the object only of war that makes it honorable. And 
 if their was ever a just war since the world began, it is this in 
 which America is now engaged. She invaded no land of yours 
 She hired no mercenaries to burn your towns, nor Indians to 
 massacre their inhabitants. She wanted nothing from you ; and 
 was indebted for nothing to you; and thus circumstanced, her 
 defence is honorable and her posterity is certain. 
 
 Yet it is not on the justice only, but likewise on the impor- 
 tance of this cause that I ground my seeming enthusiastical 
 confidence of our success. The vast extension of America makes 
 her of too much value in the scale of Providence, to be cast, 
 Hke a pearl before swine, at the feet of an European island; and 
 of much less consequence would it be that Britain were sunk in 
 the sea than that America should miscarry. There has been 
 such a chain of extraordinary events in the discovery of this 
 country at first, in the peopling and planting it afterwards, in 
 the rearing and nursing it to its present state, and in the pro- 
 tection of it through the present war, that no man can doubt, 
 but Providence hath some nobler end to accomplish, than the 
 gratification of the petty elector of Hanover, or the ignorant 
 and insignificant king of Britain.
 
 THE CRISIS. 12^ 
 
 As the blood of the martyrs hath been the seed of the Christ- 
 ian church, so the political persecutions of England will and 
 has already enriched America with industry, experience, union, 
 and importance. Before the present era she was a mere chaos 
 of uncemented colonies, individually exposed to the ravages of the 
 Indians and the invasion of any power that Britain should be 
 at war with. She had nothing that she could call her own. 
 Her felicity depended upon accident. The convulsions of Eur- 
 ope might have thrown her from one conqueror to another, till 
 she had been the slave of all, and ruined by every one; for 
 until she had spirit enough to become her own master, there 
 A r aa no knowing io which master she should belong. That 
 period, thank God, is past, and she is no longer the dependent, 
 disunited colonies of Britain, but the Independent and United 
 States of America, knowing no master but heaven and herself. 
 You, or your king, may call this "delusion," "rebellion," or 
 vhat name you please. To us it is perfectly indifferent. The 
 issue will determine the character, and time will give it a name 
 is lasting as his own. 
 
 You have now, sir, tried the fate of three campaigns, and can 
 fully declare to England, that nothing is to be got on your part, 
 but blows and broken bones, and nothing on hers but waste of 
 trade and credit, and an increase jof poverty and taxes. You 
 are now only where you might have been two years ago, without 
 the loss of a single ship, and yet not a step more forward 
 towards the conquest of the continent; because, as I have 
 already hinted, " an army in a city can never be a conquering 
 army." The full amount of your losses, since the beginning of 
 the war, exceeds twenty thousand men, besides millions of 
 treasure, for which you have nothing in exchange. Our ex- 
 penses, though great, are circulated %ithin ourselves. Yours 
 is a direct sinking of money, and that from both ends at once ; 
 first in hiring troops out of the nation, and in paying them 
 afterwards, because the money in neither case can return to 
 Britain. We are already in possession of the prize, you only 
 in pursuit of it. To us it is a real treasure, to you it would be 
 only an empty triumph. Our expenses will repay themfielves 
 with tenfold interest, while yours entail upon you everlasting 
 poverty. 
 
 Take a review, sir, of the ground which you have gone over, 
 and let it teach you policy, if it cannot honesty. You stand 
 but on a very tottering foundation. A change of the ministry
 
 124 THE CRISIS. 
 
 in England may probably bring your measures into question 
 and your head to the block. Clive, with all his successes, had 
 some difficulty in escaping, and yours being all a war of losses, 
 will afford you less pretensions, and your enemies more grounds 
 for impeachment, 
 
 Go home, sir, and endeavor to save the remains of your 
 ruined country, by a just representation of the madness of her 
 measures. A few moments, well applied, may yet preserve 
 her from political destruction. I am not one of those who 
 wish to see Europe in a flame, because I am persuaded that 
 such an event will not shorten the war. The rupture, at pre- 
 sent, is confined between the two powers of America and Eng- 
 land. England finds that she cannot conquer America, and 
 America has no wish to conquer England. You are fighting 
 for what you can never obtain, and we are defending what we 
 ne\er mean to part with. A few words, therefore, settle the 
 bargain. Let England mind her own business and we will 
 mind ours. Govern yourselves, and we will govern ourselves. 
 You may then trade where you please unmolested by us, and 
 we will trade where we please unmolested by you; and such 
 articles as we can purchase of each other better than elsewhere 
 may be mutually done. If it were possible that you could carry 
 on the war for twenty years you must still come to this point at 
 last, or worse, and the sooner you think of it the better it will 
 be for you. 
 
 My official situation enables me to know the repeated insults 
 which Britain is obliged to put up with from foreign powers, 
 and the wretched shifts that she is driven to, to gloss them over. 
 Her reduced strength and exhausted coffers in a three years' 
 war with America, hath given a powerful superiority to France 
 mid Spain. She is not ncur a match for them. But if neither 
 Council can prevail on her to think, nor sufferings awaken her 
 10 reason, she must e'en go on, till the honor of England be- 
 comes a proverb of contempt, and Europe dub her the Land of 
 i^ools. 
 
 I am, Sir, with every wish for an honorable peace, 
 Your friend, enemy, and countryman, 
 
 COMMON SENSE. 
 
 TO THE INHABITANTS OF AMERICA. 
 WITH all the pleasure with which a man exchanges bad com-
 
 THE CRISIS. 125 
 
 pany for good, I take my leave of Sir "William and return to you. 
 It is now nearely three years since the tyranny of Britain re- 
 ceived it first repulse by the arms of America. A period which 
 has given birth to a new world, and erected a monument to the 
 folly of the old. 
 
 I cannot help being sometimes surprised at the complimentary 
 references which I have seen and heard made to ancient his- 
 tories and transactions. The wisdom, civil governments, and 
 sense of honor of the states of Greece and Rome, are frequently 
 held up as objects of excellence and imitation. Mankind have 
 lived to every little purpose, if, at this period of the world, they 
 must go two or three thousand years back for lessons and ex- 
 amples. We do great injustice to ourselves by placing them 
 in such a superior line. We have no just authority for it, 
 neither can we tell why it is that we should suppose ourselves 
 inferior. 
 
 Could the mist of antiquity be cleared away, and men and 
 things be viewed as they really were, it is more then probable 
 that they would admire us, rather then we them. America has 
 surmounted a greater variety and combination of difficulties, 
 than, I believe, ever fell to the share of any one people, in the 
 same space of time, and has replenished the world with more 
 useful knowledge and sounder maxims of civil government than 
 were ever produced in any age before. 
 
 Had it not been for America, there had been no such thing 
 as freedom left throughout the whole universe. England hath 
 lost hers in a long chain of rights reasoning from wrong prin- 
 ciples, and it is from, this country, now, that she must learn the 
 resolution to redress herself, and the wisdom how to accomplish it. 
 
 The Grecians and Romans were strongly possessed of the 
 spirit of liberty but not the principle, for at the time that they were 
 determined not to be slaves themselves, they employed their 
 power to enslave the rest of mankind. But this distinguished 
 era is blotted by no one misanthropical vice In short, if the 
 principle on which the cause is founded, the universal blessings 
 that are to rise from it, the difficulties that accompanied it, the 
 wisdom with which it has been debated, the fortitude by which 
 it has been supported, the strength of the power which we had 
 to oppose, and the condition in which we undertook it, be all 
 taken in one view, we may justly style it the most virtuous and 
 illustrious revolution that ever graced the history of mankind. 
 
 A good opinion of ourselves is exceedingly necessary in private
 
 126 THE CRISIS. 
 
 life, but absolutely necessary in public life, and of the utmost 
 importance in supporting national character. I have no notion 
 of yielding the palm of the United States to any Grecians or 
 Romans that were ever born. We have equalled the bravest 
 in times of danger, and excelled the wisest in construction of 
 civil governments. 
 
 From this agreeable eminence let us take a review of present 
 affairs. The spirit of corruption is so inseparable interwoven 
 with British politics, that their ministry suppose all mankind 
 are governed by the same motives. They have no idea of a 
 people submitting even to temporary inconvenience from an 
 attachment to rights and privileges. Their plans of business 
 are calculated by the hour and for the hour, and are uniform in 
 nothing but the corruption which gives them birth. They never 
 had, neither have they at this time, any regular plan for the 
 couquest of America by arms. They know not how to go about 
 it, neither have they power to eSect it if they did know. The 
 thing is not within the compass of human practicability, for 
 America is too extensive either to be fully conquered or passively 
 defended. But she may be actively defended by defeating or 
 making prisoners of the army that invades her And this is 
 the only system of defence that can be effectual in a large 
 country. 
 
 There is something in a war carried on by invasion which 
 makes it differ in circumstances from any other mode of war, 
 because he who conducts it cannot tell whether the ground he 
 gains be for him, or against him, when he first obtains it. In 
 the winter of 1776, General Howe marched with an air of vic- 
 tory through the Jerseys, the consequence of which was his 
 defeat; and General Burgoyne at Saratoga experienced the same 
 fate from the same cause. The Spaniards, about two years ago, 
 were defeated by the Algerines is the same manner, that is, 
 their first triumphs became a trap in which they were totally 
 routed. And whoever will attend to the circumstances and 
 events of a war, carried on by invasion, will find, that any in- 
 vader, in order to be finally conquered, must first begin to 
 conquer. 
 
 I confess myself one of those who believe the loss of Phila- 
 delphia to be attended with more advantages than injuries. 
 The case stood thus : The enemy imagined Philadelphia to be 
 of more importance to us than it really was; for we all know 
 that it had long ceased to be a port; not a cargo of goods had
 
 THE CKISIS. 127 
 
 oeen brought into it for near a twelvemonth, nor any fixed 
 manufactories, nor even ship-building, carried on in it; yet as 
 the enemy believed the conquest of it to be practicable, and to 
 that belief added the absurd idea that the soul of all America 
 was centred there, and would be conquered there, it naturally 
 follows that their possession of it, by not answering the end 
 proposed, must break up the plans they had so foolishly gone 
 upon, and either oblige them to form a new one, for which 
 their present strength is not sufficient, or give over the attempt. 
 
 We never had so small an army to fight against, nor so fair 
 an opportunity of final success as now. The death wound is 
 already given. The day is ours if we follow it up. The enemy, 
 by his situation, is within our reach, and by his reduced 
 strength is within our power. The ministers of Britain may 
 rage as they please, but our part is to conquer their armies. 
 Let them wrangle and welcome, but let it not draw our attention 
 from the one thing needful. Here, in this spot is our own 
 business to be accomplished, our felicity secured. What we 
 have now to do is as clear as light, and the way to do it is as 
 straight as a line. It needs not to be commented upon, yet, in 
 order to be perfectly understood I will put a case that cannot 
 admit of a mistake. 
 
 Had the armies under Generals Howe and Burgoyne been 
 united, and taken post at Germantown, and had the northern 
 army under General Gates been joined to that under General 
 Washington, at Whitemarsh, the consequence would have been 
 a general action; and if in that action we had killed and taken 
 the same number of officers and men, that is, between nine and 
 ten thousand, with the same quantity of artillery, arms, stores, 
 etc., as have been taken at the northward, and obliged general 
 Howe with the remains of his army, that is, with the same 
 number he now commands, to take shelter in Philadelphia, we 
 should certainly have thought ourselves the greatest heroes in 
 the world; and should, as soon as the season permitted, have 
 collected together all the force of the continent and laid siege 
 to the city, for it requires a much greater force to besiege an 
 enemy in a town than to defeat him in the field. The case 
 now is just the same as if it had been produced by the means I 
 have here supposed. Between nine and ten thousand have 
 been killed and taken, all their stores are in our possession, and 
 General Howe, in consequence of that victory, has thrown him- 
 self for shelter into Philadelphia. He, or his trifling friend
 
 128 THE CRISIS. 
 
 Galloway, may form what pretences they please, yet no just 
 reason can be given for their going into winter quarters so 
 early as the 19th of October, but their apprehensions of a 
 defeat if they continued out, or their conscious inability of 
 keeping the field with safety. I see no advantage which can 
 arise to America by hunting the enemy from state to state. It 
 is a triumph without a prize, and wholly unworthy the attention 
 of a people determined to conquer. Neither can any state 
 promise itself security while the enemy remains in a condition 
 to transport themselves from one part of the continent Jo 
 another. Howe, likewise, Cannot conquer where we have no 
 army to oppose, therefore any such removals in him are mean 
 and cowardly, and reduces Britain to a common pilferer. If 
 he retreats from Philadelphia, he will be despised; if he stays, 
 he may be shut up and starved out, and the country, if he ad- 
 vances into it, may become his Saratoga. He has his choice of 
 evils and we of opportunities. If he moves early, it is not 
 only a sign but a proof that be expects no reinforcements, and 
 his delay will prove that he either waits for the arrival of a 
 plan to go upon, or force to execute it, or both; in which case 
 our strength will increase more than his, therefore in any case 
 we cannot be wrong if we do but proceed. 
 
 The particular condition of Pennsylvania deserves the attent- 
 ion of all the other states. Her military strength must not be 
 estimated by the number of inhabitants. Here are men of all 
 nations, characters, professions and interests. Here are the 
 firmest whig?, surviving, like sparks in the ocean, unquenched 
 and uncooled in the midst of discouragement and disaffection. 
 Here are men loosing their all with cheerfulness, and collecting 
 tire and fortitude from the flames of their own estates. Here 
 are others skulking in secret, many making a market of the 
 times, and numbers who are changing to whig or tory with the 
 circumstances of every day. 
 
 It is by mere dint of fortitude and perseverance that the 
 whigs of this state have been able to maintain so good a counte- 
 nance, and do even whpt they have done. We want help, and 
 the sooner it can arrive the more effectual it will be. The 
 invaded state, be it which it may, will always feel an additional 
 burden upon its back, and be hard set to support its civil power 
 with sufficent authority : and this difficulty -will rise or fall, in 
 proportion as the other states throw in their assistance to the 
 common cause.
 
 THE CRISIS. 329 
 
 The enemy will most probably make many manoeuvres at the 
 opening of this campaign, to amuse and draw off the attention 
 of the several states from the one thing needful. We may 
 expect to hear of alarms and pretended expeditions to this place 
 and that place, to the southward, the eastward, and the north- 
 ward, all intended to prevent our forming into one formidable 
 body. The less the enemy's strength is, the more subtleties of 
 this kind will they make use of. Their existence depends upon 
 it, because the force of America, when collected, is sufficent to 
 swallow their present army up. It is therefore our business to 
 triake short work of it, by bending our whole attention to this 
 one principal point, for the instant that the main body under 
 General Howe is defeated, all the inferior alarms throughout 
 the continent, like so many shadows, will follow his downfall. 
 The only way to finish a war with the least possible blood- 
 shed, or perhaps without any, is to collect an army, against 
 the power of which the enemy shall have no chance. By not 
 doing this, we prolong the war, and double both the calamities 
 and expenses of it. What a rich and happy country would 
 America be, were she, by a vigorous exertion, to reduce Howe 
 ab she has reduced Burgoyne. Her currency would rise to 
 millions beyond its present value. Every man would be rich, 
 and every man would have it in his power to be happy. And 
 why not do these things ? What is their to hinder 1 America 
 is her own mistress, and can do what she pleases. 
 
 If we had not at this time a man in the field, we could, 
 nevertheless, raise an army in a few weeks sufficient to over- 
 whelm all the force which General Howe at present commands. 
 Vigor and determination will do any thing and every thing. 
 We began the war with this kind of spirit, why not end it with 
 the same? Here, gentlemen, is the enemy. Here is the army. 
 The interest, the happiness of all America, is centered in this 
 half-ruined spot. Come and help us. Here are laurels, come 
 and share them. Here are tories, come and help us to expel 
 them. Here are whigs that will make you welcome, and enemies 
 that dread your coming. 
 
 The worst of all policy is that of doing things by halves. 
 Penny wise and pound foolish has been the ruin of thousands. 
 The present spring, if rightly improved, will free us from all 
 troubles, and save us the expense of millions. We have now 
 only one army to cope with. No opportunity can be fairer; no 
 nrospect more promising. I shall conclude this paper with a
 
 130 THE CRISIS. 
 
 few outlines of a plan, either for filling up the battalions with 
 expedition, or for raising an additional force, for any limited 
 time, on any sudden emergency. 
 
 That in which every man is interested, is every man's duty to 
 support. And any burden which falls equally on all men, and 
 from which every man is to receive an equal benefit, is consistent 
 with the most perfect ideas of liberty. I would wish to revive 
 something of that virtuous ambition which first called America 
 into the field. Then every man was eager to do his part, and 
 perhaps the principal reason why we have in any degree fallen 
 therefrom, is, because we did not set a right value by it at first, 
 but left it to blaze out of itself, instead of regulating and pre- 
 serving it by just proportions of rest and service. 
 
 Suppose any state whose number of effective inhabitants was 
 80,000, should be required to furnish 3,200 men towards the 
 defence of the continent on any sudden emergency. 
 
 1st, Let the whole number of effective inhabitants be divided 
 into hundreds: then if each of those hundreds turn out four 
 men, the whole number of 3,200 will be had. 
 
 2nd, Let the name of each hundred men be entered in a book, 
 and let four dollars be collected from each man, with as much 
 more as any of the gentlemen, whose abilities can afford it, shall 
 please to throw in, which gifts likewise, shall be entered against 
 the names of the donors. 
 
 3rd, Let the sums so collected be offered as a present, over 
 and above the botnty of twenty dollars, to any four who may 
 be inclined to propose themselves as volunteers; if more than 
 four offer, the majority of the subscribers present shall determine 
 which : if none offer, then four out of the hundred shall be taken 
 by lot, who shall be entitled to the said sums, and shall either 
 go, or provide others that will, in the space of six days. 
 
 4th, As it will always happen, that in the space of ground on 
 which an hundred men shall live, there will be always a number 
 of persons who, by age and infirmity, are incapable of doing 
 personal service, and as such persons are generally possessed of 
 the greatest part of the property in any country, their portion 
 of service, thereof ore, will be to furnish each man with a blanket, 
 which will make a regimental coat, jacket, and breeches, or 
 clothes in lien thereof, and another for a watch cloak, and two 
 pair of shoes ; for however choice people may be of these things 
 matters not in cases of this kind ; those who live always in houses 
 can find many ways to keep themselves warm, but it is a shamp
 
 THE CRISIS. 131 
 
 and a sin to suffer a soldier in the field to want a blanket while 
 there is one in the country. 
 
 Should the clothing not be wanted, the superannuated or 
 infirm persons possessing property, may, in lieu thereof, throw 
 in their money subscriptions towards increasing the bounty; 
 for though age will naturally exempt a person from personal 
 service, it cannot exempt him from his share of the charge, be- 
 cause the men are raised for the defence of property and 
 liberty jointly. 
 
 There never was a scheme against which objections might not 
 be raised. But this alone is not a sufficient reason for rejection, 
 The only line to judge truly upon, is to draw out and admit all 
 the objections which can fairly be made, and place against them 
 all the contrary qualities, conveniences and advantages, then 
 by striking a balance you come at the true character of any 
 scheme, principle or position. 
 
 The most material advantages of the plan here proposed are, 
 ease, expedition, and cheapness; yet the men so raised get a 
 much larger bounty than is anywhere at present given ; because 
 all the expenses, extravagance, and consequent idleness of re- 
 cruiting are saved or prevented. The country incurs no new 
 debt nor interest thereon ; the whole matter being all settled at 
 once and entirely done with. It is a subscription answering 
 all the purposes of a tax, without either the charge or trouble 
 of collecting. The men are ready for the field with the greatest 
 possible expedition, because it becomes the duty of the in- 
 habitants themselves, in every part of the country, to find 
 their proportion of men, instead of leaving it to a recruiting 
 sergeant, who, be he ever so industrious, cannot know always 
 where to apply. 
 
 I do not propose this as a regular digested plan, neither will 
 the limits of this paper admit of any further remarks upon it. 
 I believe it to be a hint capable of much improvement, and as 
 such submit it to the public. 
 
 COMMON SENSE. 
 
 TJAIKJASTKB, March tl, 78.
 
 132 THE CRISIS. 
 
 NUMBER VL 
 
 TO THE EARL OF CARLISLE, GENERAL CLINTON, AND WIL- 
 LIAM EDEN, ESQ., BRITISH COMMISIONERS, AT NEW 
 YORK. 
 
 THERE is a dignity in the warm passions of a whig, which is 
 never to be found in the- cold malice of a tory. In the one 
 nature is only heated in the other she is poisoned. The 
 instant the former has it in his power to punish, he feels a dis- 
 position to forgive; but the canine venom of the latter knows 
 no relief but revenge. This general distinction will, 1 believe, 
 apply in all cases, and suit as well the meridian of England as 
 America. 
 
 As I presume your last proclamation will undergo the stric- 
 tures of other pens, I shall confine my remarks to only a few 
 parts thereof. All that you have said might have been com- 
 prised in half the compass. It is tedious and unmeaning, and 
 only a repetition of your former follies, with here and there an 
 offensive aggravation. Your cargo of pardons will have no 
 market it is unfashionable to look at them : even speculation 
 is at an end. They have become a perfect drug, and no way 
 calculated for the climate. 
 
 In the course of your proclamation you say, " The policy as 
 well as the benevolence of Grea. Britain have thus far checked 
 the extremes' of war, when they tended to distress a people still 
 considered as their fellow subjects, and to desolate a country 
 shortly to become again a source of mutual advantage." What 
 you mean by " the benevolence of Great Britain " is to me incon- 
 ceivable. To put a plain question : do you consider yourselves 
 men or devils 1 For until this point is settled, no determinate 
 sense can be put upon the expression. You have already 
 equalled, and in many cases excelled, the savages of either 
 Indies, and if you have yet a cruelty in store you must have 
 imported it, unmixed with every human material, from the 
 original warehouse of hell 
 
 To the interposition of Providence, and her blessings on our 
 endeavprs, and not to British benevolence, are we indebted for 
 the short chain that limits your ravages. Remember you do 
 not at this time, command a foot of land on the continent o 
 America. Staten Island, York Island, a small part of Lou
 
 THE CRISIS. 133 
 
 Island, and Rhode Island, circumscribe your power; and even 
 those you hold at the expense of the West Indies. To avoid a 
 defeat, or prevent a desertion of your troops, you have taken 
 up your quarters in holes and corners of inaccessible security ', 
 and in order to conceal what every one can perceive, you now 
 endeavor to impose your weakness upon us for an act of 
 mercy. If you think to succeed by such shadowy devices, you 
 are but infants in the political world; you have the A, B, C, 
 of stratagem yet to learn, and are wholly ignorant of the people 
 you have to contend with. Like men in a state of intoxication, 
 you forget that the rest of the world have eyes, and that the 
 same stupidity which conceals you from yourselves exposes you 
 to their satire and contempt. 
 
 The paragraph which I have quoted, stands as an introduction 
 to the following : " But when that country (America) professes 
 the unnatural design, not only of estranging herself from us, but 
 of mortgaging herself and her resources to our enemies, the 
 whole contest is changed : and the question is how far Great 
 Britain may, by every means in her power, destroy, or render 
 useless, a connexion contrived for her ruin, and the aggrandize- 
 ment of France. Under such circumstances, the laws of self- 
 preservation must direct the conduct of Britain, and if the 
 British colonies are to become an accession to France, will dir- 
 ect her to render that accession of as little avail as possible to 
 her enemy " 
 
 I consider you in this declaration, like madmen biting in the 
 hour of death. It contains likewise a fradulent meanness ; for, 
 in order td justify a barbarous conclusion, you have advanced a 
 false position. The treaty we have formed with France is open, 
 noble and generous. It is true policy, founded on sound 
 philosophy, and neither a surrender or mortgage, as you would 
 scandalously insinuate. I have seen every article, and speak 
 from positive knowledge. In France, we have found an affec- 
 tionate friend and faithful ally ; in Britain, we have found 
 nothing but tyranny, cruelty, and infidelity. 
 
 But the happiness is, that the mischief you threaten, is not in 
 your power to execute; and if it were, the punishment would re- 
 turn upon you in a ten-fold degree. The humanity of America 
 hath hitherto restrained her from acts of retaliation, and the affec- 
 tion she retains for many individuals in England, who have fed, 
 clothed and comforted her prisoners, has, to the present day. 
 warded off her resentment, and operated as a screen to the
 
 134 THE CRISIS. 
 
 whole. But even these considerations must cease, when 
 national objects interfere and oppose them. Repeated aggra- 
 vations will provoke a retort, and policy justify the measure. 
 We mean now to take you seriously up upon your own ground 
 and principle, and as you do, so shall you be done by. 
 
 You ought to know, gentlemen, that England and Scotland 
 are far more exposed to incendiary desolation than America, in 
 her present state, can possibly be. We occupy a country, with 
 but few towns, and whose riches consist in land and annual 
 produce. The two last can suffer but little, and that only 
 within a very limited compass. In Britain it is otherwise. 
 Her wealth lies chiefly in cities and large towns, the deposi- 
 tories of manufactories and fleets of merchantmen. There is 
 not a nobleman's country seat but may be laid in ashes by a 
 single person. Your own may probably contribute to the 
 proof : in short, there is no evil which cannot be returned when 
 you come to incendiary mischief. The ships in the Thames 
 may certainly be as easily set on fire as the temporary bridge 
 was a few years ago yet of that affair no discovery was ever 
 made ; and the loss you would sustain by such an event, executed 
 at a proper season, is infinitely greater than any you can inflict. 
 The East-India house, and the bank, neither are, nor ran be 
 secure from this sort of destruction, and, as Dr. Price justly 
 observes, a fire at the latter would bankrupt the nation It 
 has never been the custom of France and England, when at 
 war. to make those havocs on each other, because the ese with 
 which they could retaliate, rendered it as impolitic ^ as \f each 
 had destroyed his own. 
 
 But think not, gentlemen, that our distance secures you, or 
 our invention fails us. We can much easier accomplish such a 
 point than any nation in Europe. We talk the same language, 
 dress in the same habits, and appear with the same manners as 
 yourselves. We can pass from one part of England to another 
 unsuspected; many of us are as well acquainted with the country 
 as you are, and should you impolitically provoke us, you will 
 most assuredly lament the effects of it. Mischiefs of this kind 
 require no army to execute them. The means are obvious, and 
 the opportunities unguardable. I hold up a warning to your 
 senses, if you have any left, and " to the unhappy people like- 
 wise, whose affairs are committed to you."* I call not with 
 the rancor of an enemy, but the earnestness of a friend, on 
 
 * General Clinton's letter fox Congrew.
 
 THE CRISIS. 135 
 
 the deluded people of England, lest, between your blunders and 
 theirs, they sink beneath the evils contrived for us. 
 
 " He who lives in a glass house," says a Spanish proverb, 
 " should never begin throwing stones." This, gentlemen, is 
 exactly your case, and you must be the most ignorant of man- 
 kind, or suppose us so, not to see on which side the balance of 
 accounts will fall. There are many other modes of retail iatioii, 
 which, for several reasons, I choose not to mention. But be 
 assured of this, that the instant you put your threat into 
 execution, a counter-blow will follow it. If you openly profess 
 yourselves savages, it is high time we should treat you as such, 
 and if nothing but distress can recover you to reason, to punish 
 will become an office of charity. 
 
 While your fleet lay last winter in the Delaware, I offered 
 my service to the Pennsylvania navy-board then at Trenton, 
 as one who would make a party with them, or any four or five 
 gentlemen, on an expedition down the river to set fire to it, and 
 though it was not then accepted, nor the thing personally at- 
 tempted, it is more than probable that your own folly will pro- 
 voke a much more ruinous act. Say not when mischief is done, 
 that you had not warning, and remember that we do not begin 
 it, but mean to repay it. Thus^much for your savage and im- 
 politic threat. 
 
 In another part of your proclamation you say, " But if the 
 honors of a military life are become the object of the Americans, 
 let them seek those honors under the banners of their rightful 
 sovereign, and in fighting the battles of the united British 
 empire, against our late mutual and natural enemies." Surely ! 
 the union of absurdity with madness was never marked in more 
 distinguishable lines than these. Your rightful sovereign, as 
 you call him, may do well enough for you, who dare not inquire 
 into the humble capacities of the man; but we, who estimate 
 persons and things by their real worth, cannot suffer our judg- 
 ments to be so imposed upon ; and unless it is your wish to see 
 him exposed, it ought to be your endeavor to keep him out of 
 sight. The less you have to say about him the better. We 
 have done with him, and that ought to be answer enough. 
 You have been often told so. Strange ! that the answer must 
 be so often repeated. You go a begging with your king as 
 with a brat, or with some unsaleable commodity you are tired 
 of; and though every body tells you no, no, still you keep 
 hawking him anout. But there is one that will have him in a
 
 136 THE CRISIS. 
 
 little time, and as -we have no inclination to disappoint you of 
 a customer, we bid nothing for him. 
 
 The impertinent folly of the paragraph that I hare juit 
 quoted, deserves no other notice than to be laughed at and 
 thrown by, but the principle on which it is founded is detest- 
 able. We are invited to submit to a man who has attempted 
 by every cruelty to destroy us, and to join him in making war 
 against France, who is already at war against him for our 
 support. 
 
 Can Bedlam, in concert with Lucifer, form a more mad and 
 levilish request? Were it possible a people could sink into 
 such apostacy they would deserve to be swept from the earth 
 like the inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah. The proposition 
 is an universal affront to the rank which man Lolds in the 
 creation, and an indignity to him who placed him there. It 
 opposes him made up without a spark of honor, and under no 
 >bligation 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, <fec. 
 
 The incredible numbers with which they assembled the next 
 morning, and the still more incredible resolution they exhibited 
 embarrassed and astonished their enemies. Little did the ne\v 
 ministry expect such a salute. Accustomed to slavery them- 
 selves, they had no idea that liberty was capable of such in- 
 spiration, or that a bo'dy of unarmed citizens would dare face 
 the military force of thirty thousand men. Every moment of 
 this day was employed in collecting arms, concerting plans, and 
 arranging themselves in the best order which such an instan- 
 taneous movement could afford. Broglio continued lying around 
 the city, but made no further advances this day, and the suc- 
 ceeding night passed with as much tranquillity as much a scene 
 could possibly produce. 
 
 But the defence only was not the object of the citizens. They 
 had a cause at stake, on which depended their freedom or their 
 slavery. They every moment expected an attack, or to hear of 
 one made on the national assembly ; and in such a situation, the 
 most prompt measures are sometimes the best. The object that 
 now presented itself, was the Bastile; and the eclat of carrying 
 such a fortress in the face of sueh an army, could not fail to 
 strike terror into the new ministry, who had scarcely yet had 
 time to meet. By some intercepted correspondence this mor- 
 ning, it was discovered that the mayor of Paris, M. de Flesseles, 
 who appeared to be in their interest, was betraying them; and 
 from this discovery there remained no doubt that Broglio would 
 reinforce the Bastile the ensuing evening. It was therefore 
 necessary to attack it that day; but before this could be done 
 it was first necessary to procure a better supply of arms than 
 they were then possessed of. 
 
 There was, adjoining to the city, a large magazine of arms 
 deposited at the hospital of the invalids, which the citizens 
 summoned to surrender; and as the place was not defensible, 
 nor attempted much defence, they soon succeeded. Thus sup- 
 plied, they marched to attack the Bastile; a vast mixed multi- 
 tude of all ages and of all degrees, and armed with all sorts of 
 weapons. Imagination would fail of describing to itself the 
 appearance of such a procession, and of the anxiety for the 
 events which a few hours or a few minutes might produce. 
 What plans the ministry was forming, were as unknown to the 
 people within the city, as what the citizens were doing was un-
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 253 
 
 known to them; and what movements Broglio might make for 
 the support or relief of the place, were to the citizens equally 
 unknown. All was mystery and hazard. 
 
 That the Bastile was attacked with an enthusiasm of heroism, 
 .such only as the highest animation of liberty could inspire, and 
 i-arried in the space of a few hours, is an event which the world 
 is fully possessed of. I am not undertaking a detail of the 
 attack, but bringing into view the conspiracy against the nation 
 which provoked it, and which fell with the Bastile. The prison 
 to which the new ministry were dooming the national assembly, 
 in addition to its being the high altar and castle of despotism, 
 became the proper object to begin with. This enterprise broke 
 up the new ministry, who began now to fly from the ruin they 
 had prepared for others. The troops of Broglio dispersed, and 
 himself fled also. 
 
 Mr. Burke has spoken a great deal about plots, and he has 
 never once spoken of this plot against the national assembly 
 and the liberties of the nation; and that he might not, he has 
 passed over all the circumstances that might throw it in his 
 way. The exiles who have fled from France, whose cause he 
 so much interests himself in, and from whom he has had his 
 lesson, fled in consequence of the miscarriage of this plot. No 
 plot was formed against them : it was they who were plotting 
 against others; and those who fell, met, not unjustly, the punish- 
 ment they were preparing to execute. But will Mr. Burke say 
 that if this plot, contrived with the subtlety of an ambuscade, 
 had succeeded, the successful party would have restrained their 
 wrath so soon? Let the history of all old governments answer 
 the question. 
 
 Whom has the national assembly brought to the scaffold ? 
 None. They were themselves the devoted victims of this plot, 
 and they have not retaliated; why then are they charged with 
 revenge they have not acted? In the tremendous breaking 
 forth of a whole people, in which all degrees, tempers and 
 characters are confounded, and delivering themselves by a 
 miracle of exertion, from the destruction meditated against 
 them, is it to be expected that nothing will happen ? When 
 men are sore with the sense of oppressions, and menaced with 
 the prospect of new ones, is the calmness of philosophy, or the 
 palsy of insensibility to be looked for 1 Mr. Burke exclaims 
 against outrage, yet the greatest is that which he has committed. 
 His book is a volume of outrage, and not apologized for by the
 
 254 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 impulse of a moment, but cherished through a space of ten 
 months; yet Mr. Burke had no provocation, no life, no interest 
 at stake. 
 
 More citizens fell in this struggle than of their opponents ; but 
 four or five persons were seized by the populace, and instantly 
 put to death; the governor of the Bastile, and the mayor of 
 Paris, who was detected in the act of betraying them; and 
 afterwards Foulon, one of the new ministry, and Berthier, his 
 son-in-law, who had accepted the office of intendant of Paris. 
 Their heads were stuck upon pikes, and carried about the city; 
 and it is upon this mode of punishment that Mr. Burke builds 
 a great part of his tragic scenes. Let us therefore examine 
 how man came by the idea of punishing in this manner. 
 
 They learn it from the governments they live under ; and re- 
 taliate the punishments they have been accustomed to behold. 
 The heads stuck upon pikes which remained for years on Temple- 
 bar differed nothing in the horror of the scene from those car- 
 ried about on pikes at Paris: yet this was done by the English 
 government. It may, perhaps, be said, that it signifies nothing 
 to a man what is done to him after he is dead; but it signifies 
 much to the living; it either tortures their feelings or hardens 
 their hearts; and in either case, it instructs them how to punish 
 when power falls into their hands. 
 
 Lay then the axe to the root, and teach governments hu- 
 manity. It is their sanguinary punishments which corrupt 
 mankind. In England the punishment in certain cases is, by 
 hanging, drawing, and quartering; the heart of the sufferer is 
 cut out and held up to the view of the populace. In France, 
 under the former government, the punishments were not less 
 barbarous. Who does not remember the execution of Damien, 
 torn to pieces by horses 1 The effect of these cruel spectacles 
 exhibited to the populace, is to destroy tenderness or excite re- 
 venge; and by the base and false idea of governing men by 
 terror instead of reason, they become precedents. It is over 
 the lowest class of mankind that government by terror is in- 
 tended to operate, and it is on them that it operates to the 
 worst effect. They have sense enough to feel that they are the 
 objects aimed at; and they inflict in their turn the examples of 
 teiTor they have been instructed to practice. 
 
 There are in all European countries a large class of people of 
 that description which in England are called the " mob " Of 
 this class were those who committed the burnings and devasta-
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 255 
 
 tions in London in 1780, and of this class were those who car- 
 ried the heads upon pikes in Paris. Foulon and Berthier were 
 taken up in the country, and sent to Paris to undergo their ex- 
 amination at the hotel de ville; for the national assembly, im- 
 mediately on the new ministry coming into office, passed a de- 
 cree, which they communicated to the king and cabinet, that 
 they (the national assembly) would hold the ministry, of which 
 Foulon was one, responsible for the measures they were advis- 
 ing and pursuing; but the mob, incensed at the appearance of 
 Foulon and Berthier, tore them from their conductors before 
 they were carried to the hotel de ville, and executed them on 
 the spot. Why then does Mr. Burke charge outrages of this 
 kind upon a whole people? As well may he charge the riots 
 and outrages of 1780 on the whole people of London, or those 
 in Ireland on all his country. 
 
 But everything we see or hea offensive to our feelings, and 
 derogatory to the human character, should lead to other reflec- 
 tions than those of reproach. Even the beings who commit 
 them have some claim to our consideration. How then is it 
 that such vast classes of mankind as are distinguished by the 
 appellation of the vulgar, or the Ignorant mob, are so numerous 
 in all old countries 1 The instant we ask ourselves this question, 
 reflection finds an answer. They arise, as an unavoidable con- 
 sequence, out of the ill construction of all the old governments 
 in Europe, England included with the rest. It is by distortedly 
 exalting some men, that others are distortedly debased, till the 
 whole is out of nature. A vast mass of mankind are degraded ly 
 thrown into the back ground of the human picture, to bring 
 forward, with greater glare, the puppet-show of state and aris- 
 tocracy i the commencement of a revolution, those men are 
 rather the followers of the camp than of the standard of liberty, 
 and have yet to be instructed how to reverence it. 
 
 I give to Mr. Burke all his theatrical exaggerations for facts, 
 and I then ask him, if they do not establish the certainty of 
 what I here lay down ? Admitting them to be true, they show 
 the necesssty of the French revolution, as much as any one 
 thing he could have asserted. These outrages are not the effect 
 of the principles of the revolution, but of the degraded mind 
 that existed before the revolution, and which the revolution is 
 calculated to reform. Place them then to their proper cause, 
 and take the reproach of them to your own side. 
 
 It ia to the hono. of the national assembly, and the city of
 
 256 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 Paris, that during such a tremendous scene of arms and con- 
 fusion, beyond the control of all authority, that they have '. een 
 able by the influence of example and exhortation, to restrain so 
 much. Never was more pains taken to instruct and enlighten 
 mankind, and to make them see that their interest consisted in 
 their virtue, and not in their revenge, than what have been dis- 
 played in the revolution in France. I now proceed to make 
 some remarks on Mr. Burke's account of the expedition to 
 Versailles, on the 5th and 6th of October. 
 
 I can consider Mr. Burke's book in scarcely any other light 
 than a dramatic performance; and he must, I think, have con- 
 sidered it in the same light himself, by the poetical liberties 
 he has taken of omitting some facts, distorting others, and 
 making the machinery bend to produce a stage effect. Of this 
 kind is his account of the expedition to Versailles. He begins 
 this account by omitting the only facts which, as causes, are 
 known to be true; everything beyond these is conjecture even 
 in Paris; and he then works up a tale accommodated to his 
 own passions and prejudices. 
 
 It is to be observed throughout Mr. Burke's book, that he 
 never speaks of plots against the revolution; and it is from 
 those plots that all the mischiefs have arisen. It suits his pur- 
 pose to exhibit consequences without their causes. It is one 
 of the arts of the drama to do so. If the crimes of men were 
 exhibited with their suffering, the stage effect would sometimes 
 be lost, and the audience would be inclined to approve where 
 it was intended they should commiserate. 
 
 After all the investigations that have been made into this 
 intricate affair (the expedition to Versailles,) it still remains 
 enveloped in all that, kind of mystery which ever accompanies 
 events produced more from a concurrence of awkward circum- 
 stances, than from fixed design. While the characters of men 
 are forming, as is always the case in revolutions, there is a 
 reciprocal suspicion, and a disposition to misinterpret each 
 other; and even parties directly opposite in principle, will 
 sometimes concur in pushing forward the same movement with 
 very different views, and with the hopes of its producing very 
 different consequences. A great deal of this may be discovered 
 in this embarrassed affair, and yet the issue of the whole was 
 what nobody had in view. 
 
 The only things certainly known are, that considerable un- 
 easiness was at this time excited in Paris, by the delay of the
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 2o7 
 
 king in not sanctioning and forwarding the decrees of the 
 national assembly, particularly that of the declaration of th,e 
 rights of man, and the decrees of the fourth of August, which 
 contained the foundation principles on which the constitution 
 was to be erected. The kindest, and perhaps 1 he fairest, conjec- 
 ture upon this matter is, that some of the ministers intended to 
 make observations upon certain p^i is of them, before they were 
 finally sanctioned and sent to the provinces; but be this as it 
 ma the enemies of the revolution derived hopes from the de- 
 lay, and the friends of the revolution, uneasiness. 
 
 During this state of suspense, he gardes du corps, which waa 
 composed, as such iegiD" o nts generally are, of persons much con- 
 nected with the cour^ VR an entertainment at Versailles 
 (Oct. 1,) to some foreign .cgiments then arrived; and when the 
 entertainment was at its height, on a signal given, the gardes 
 du corps tore the national cockade from their hats, trampled it 
 under foot, and replaced it with a counter cockade prepared for 
 the purpose. An indignanity of this kind amounted to de- 
 fiance. It was like decL.-ing war; and if men will give chal- 
 lenges, they must expect consequences. But all this Mr. Burke 
 has carefully kept out of sight. He begins his accouni by say- 
 ing, " History will record, that on the morning of the 6th of 
 October, 1789, the king and queen of France, after a day of 
 confusion, alarm, dismay and slaughter, lay down under the 
 pledged security of public faith, to indulge nature in a few 
 hours of respite, and troubled melancholy repose." This is 
 neither the sober style of history, nor the intention of it. It 
 leaves everything to be guessed at, and mistaken. One would 
 at least think there had been a battle ; and a battle there prob- 
 ably would have been, had it not been for the moderating 
 prudence of those whom Mr Burke involves in his censures. 
 By his keeping the garden du corps out of sight Mr. Burke has 
 afforded himself the dramatic license of putting the king and 
 queen in their places, as if the object of the expedition was 
 against them. But, to return to my account 
 
 This conduct of the gardes du corps, as might well be ex- 
 pected, alarmed and enraged the Parisians: the colors of the 
 cause and the cause itself, were become too united to mistake 
 the intention of the insult, and the Parisians were determined 
 to call the gardes du corps to an account. There was certainlv 
 nothing of the cowardice of assassination in marching in the 
 face of day to demand satisfaction, if such a phrase may be
 
 258 BIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 used, of a body of armed men who had voluntarily given de- 
 fiance. But the circumstance which serves to throw this affair 
 into embarrassment is, that the enemies of the revolution appear 
 to have encouraged it, as well as its friends. The one hoped to 
 prevent a civil war, by checking it in time, and the other to 
 make one. The hopes of those opposed to the revolution, rested 
 in making the king of their party, and getting him from Ver- 
 sailles to Metz, where they expected to collect a force and set 
 up a standard. We have therefore two different objects present- 
 ing themselves at the same time, and to be accomplished by the 
 same means ; the one, to chastise the gardes du corps which was 
 the object of the Parisians; the other, to render the confusion 
 of such a scene an inducement to the king to set off for Metz. 
 
 On the 5th of October, a very numerous body of women, 
 and men in the disguise of women, collected round the hotel 
 de ville, or town hall, at Paris, and set off for Versailles. 
 Their professed object was the gardes du corps; but prudent 
 men readily recollected that mischief is easier begun than 
 ended ; and this impressed itself with the more force, from the 
 suspicions already stated, and the irregularity of such a caval- 
 -ade. As soon therefore as a sufficient force could be collected, 
 M. de la Fayette, by orders from the civil authority of Paris, 
 ;et off after them at the head of twenty thousand of the Paris 
 militia. The revolution could derive no benefit from confusion, 
 ,',nd its opposers might. By an amiable and spirited manner 
 of address, he had hitherto been fortunate in calming dis- 
 quietudes, and in this he was extraordinarily successful ; to 
 frustrate, therefore, the hopes of those who might seek to im- 
 prove this scene into a sort of justifiable necessity for the king's 
 quitting Versailles and withdrawing to Metz, and to prevent, 
 at the same time, the consequences that might ensue between 
 the gardes du corps and this phalanx of men and women, he 
 forwarded expresses to the king, that he was on his march to 
 Versailles, by the orders of the civil authority of Paris, for the 
 purpose of peace and protection, expressing at the same time 
 the necessity of restraining the gardes du corps from firing on 
 the people.* 
 
 He arrived at Versailles between ten and eleven o'clock at 
 night. The gardes du corps were drawn up, and the people 
 had arrived some time before, but everything had remained 
 
 * I am warranted in asserting this, as I had it from M. de la Fayette, with 
 Thorn I have lived in habits of friendship for fourteen years.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 259 
 
 suspended. Wisdom and policy now consisted in changing a 
 scene of danger into a happy event. M. de la Fayette became 
 the mediator between the enraged parties; and the king, to re- 
 move the uneasiness which had arisen from the delay already 
 stated, sent for the president of the national assembly, and 
 signed the declaration of the rights of man, and such other parts 
 of the constitution as were in readiness. 
 
 It was now about one in the morning. Everthing appeared 
 to be composed, and a general congratulation took place. At 
 the beat of drum a proclamation \vas made, that the citizens 
 of Versailles would give the hospitality of their houses to their 
 fellow-citizens of Paris. Those who could not be accommodated 
 in this manner, remained in the streets, or took up their quar- 
 ters in the churches; and at two o'clock the king and queen 
 retired. 
 
 In this state matters passed until the break of day, when a 
 fresh disturbance arose from the censurable conduct of some of 
 both parties; for such characters there will be in all such scenes. 
 One of the gardes du corps appeared at one of the windows of 
 the palace, and the people who had remained during the night 
 in the streets accosted him with reviling and provocative lan- 
 guage. Instead of retiring, as in such a case prudence would 
 have dictated, he presented his musket, fired, and killed one of 
 the Paris militia. The peace being thus broken, the people 
 rushed into the palace in quest of the offender. They attacked 
 the quarters of the gardes du corps within the palace, and 
 pursued them through the avenues of it, and to the apartments 
 of the king. On this tumult, not the queen only, as Mr. Burke 
 has represented it, but every person in the palace was awak- 
 ened and alarmed; and M. de la Fayette had a second time to 
 interpose between the parties, the event of which was, that the 
 gardes du corps put on the national cockade, and the matter 
 ended, as by oblivion, after the loss of two or three lives. 
 
 During the latter part of the time in which this confusion 
 was acting, the king and queen were in public at the balcony, 
 and neither of them concealed for safety's sake, as Mr. Burke 
 insinuates. Matters being thus appeased, and tranquil ity re- 
 stored, a general acclamation broke forth of, le roi a Paris le 
 roi a Paris the king to Paris. It was toe shout of peace, and 
 immediately accepted on the part of the king. By this mea- 
 sure, all future projects of trepanning the king to Metz, and 
 setting up the standard of opposition to the constitution were
 
 260 EIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 prevented, and the suspicions extinguished. The king and his 
 family reached Paris in the evening, and were congratulated on 
 their arrival by M. Bailley, the mayor of Paris, in the name of 
 the citizens. Mr. Burke, who throughout his book confounds 
 things, persons, and principles, has, in his remarks un M. 
 Bail ley's address, confounded time also. He censures M. 
 Bailley for calling it, ^un ban jour" a good day. Mr. Burke 
 should have informed himself that this scene took up the 
 space of two days, the day , on which it began with every 
 appearance of danger and mischief, and the day on which it 
 terminated without the mischiefs that threatened ; and that it 
 is to this peaceful termination that M. Bailley alludes, and to 
 the arrival of the king at Paris. Not less than three hundred 
 thousand persons arranged themselves in the procession from 
 Versailles to Paris, and not an act of molestation was com- 
 mitted during the whole march. 
 
 Mr. Burke, on the authority of M. Lally Tolendal, a deserter 
 from the national assembly, says that on entering Paris, the 
 people shouted, " tons les eveques d, la lanterne" all bishops 
 to be hanged at the lantern or lamp-posts. It was surprising 
 that nobody should hear this but Lally Tollendal, and that no- 
 body should believe it but Mr. Burke. It has not the least 
 connexion with any part of the transaction, and is totally 
 foreign to every circumstance of it. The bishops have never 
 been introduced before into any scene of Mr. Burke's drama; 
 why then are they, all at once, and together, tout a coup et 
 tous eiisemble, introduced now 1 Mr. Burke brings forward his 
 bishops and his lantern, like figures in a magic lantern, and 
 raises his scenes by contrast instead of connexion. But it 
 serves to show with the rest of his book, what little credit 
 ought to be given, where even probability is set at defiance, for 
 the purpose of defaming; and with this reflection, instead of a 
 soliloquy in praise of chivalry, as Mr. Burke has done, I close 
 the account of the expedition to Versailles.* 
 
 I have now to follow Mr. Burke through a pathless wilder- 
 ness of rhapsodies, and a sort of descant upon governments, in 
 which he asserts whatever he pleases, on the presumption of its 
 being believed, without offering either evidence or reasons for 
 so doing. 
 
 An account of the expedition to Versailles may be seen in No. 13 of the 
 "Revolution de Paris," containing the events from the 3rd to the 10th of 
 October, 1789.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 261 
 
 Before anything can be reasoned upon to a conclusion, certain 
 facts, principles, or data, to reason from, must be established, 
 admitted, or denied. Mr. Burke, with his usual outrage, abuses 
 the declaration of the rights of man, published by the national 
 assembly of France, as the basis on which the constitution of 
 France is built. This he calls " paltry and blurred sLeets of 
 paper about the rights of man." Does Mr. Burke 1 mean to 
 deny that man has any rights 1 If he does, then he must mean 
 that there are no such things as rights anywhere, and that he 
 has none himself ; for who is there in the world but man t But 
 if Mr. Burke means to admit that man has rights, the question 
 then will be, what are those rights, and how came man by them 
 originally. 
 
 The error of those who reason by precedents drawn from 
 antiquity, respecting the rights of man, is, that they do not go 
 far enough into antiquity. They do not go the whole way. 
 They stop in some of the intermediate stages of an hundred or 
 a thousand years, and produce what was then done as a rule 
 for the present day. This is no authority at all. If we travel 
 still further into antiquity, we shall find a directly contrary opin- 
 ion and practice prevailing; and, if antiquity is to be authority, 
 a thousand such authorities may be produced, successively con- 
 tradicting each other: but if we proceed on, we shall at last 
 come out right: we shall come to the time when man came 
 from the hand of his maker. What was he then ? Man. Man 
 was his high and only title, and a higher cannot be given him. 
 But of titles I shall speak hereafter. 
 
 We have now arrived at the origin of man, and at the origin 
 of his rights. As to the manner in which the world has been 
 governed from that day to this, it is no further any concern of 
 ours than to make a proper use of the errors or the improve- 
 ments which the history of it presents. Those who lived a 
 hundred or a thousand years ago, were then moderns as we are 
 now. They had their ancients and those ancients had others, 
 * and we also shall be ancients in our turn. If the mere name 
 of antiquity is to govern in the affairs of life, the people who 
 are to live a hundred or a thousand years hence, may as well 
 take us for a precedent, as we make a precedent of those who 
 lived a hundred or a thousand years ago. The fact is, that 
 portions of antiquity, by proving everything, establishing no- 
 thing. It is authority against authority all the way, till we 
 come to the divine origin of the rights of man, at the creation.
 
 202 RIGHTS OF MAN. ' 
 
 Here our inquiries find a resting place, and our reason finds a 
 home. If a dispute about the rights of man had arisen at the 
 distance of an hundred years from the creation, it is to this 
 source of authority they must have referred and it is to the 
 same source of authority that we must now refer. 
 
 Though I mean not to touch upon any sectarian principle of 
 religion, yet it may be worth observing, that the genealogy of 
 Christ is traced to Adam. Why then not trace the rights of 
 man to the creation of man? I will answer the question. 
 Because there have been upstarts of government, thrusting 
 themselves between, and presumptiously working to un-make 
 man. 
 
 If any generation of men ever possessed the right of dictating 
 the mode by which the world should be governed for ever, it 
 was the first generation that existed; and if that generation 
 did not do it, no succeeding generation can show any authority 
 for doing it, nor set any up. The illuminating and divine prin- 
 ciples of the equal rights of man (for it has its origin from the 
 maker of man), relates not only to the living individuals, but 
 to the generations of men succeeding each other. Every gen- 
 eration is equal in rights to the generations which preceded it, 
 by the same rule that every individual is born equal in rights 
 with his contemporary. 
 
 Every history of the creation, and every traditionary account, 
 whether from the lettered or unlettered world, however they 
 may vary in their opinion or belief of certain particulars, all 
 agree in establishing one point, the unity of man; by which I 
 mean that man is all of one degree, and consequently that all 
 men are born equal, and with equal natural rights, in the same 
 manner as if posterity had been continued by creation instead 
 of generation, the latter being only the mode by which the 
 former is carried forward; and consequently, every child born 
 into the world must be considered as deriving its existence 
 from God. The world is as new to him as it was to the first. 
 man that existed, and his natural right in it is of the same kind. 
 
 The Mosaic account of the creation, whether taken as divine 
 authority, or merely historical, is fully up to this point, the 
 unity or equality of man. The expressions admit of no contro- 
 versy. "And God said, let us make man in our own image. 
 In the image of God created he him; male and female created 
 he them." The distinction of sexes is pointed out, but no other 
 distinction is even implied. If this be not divine authority, it is
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 263 
 
 at least historical authority, and shows that the equality of man, 
 so far from being a modern doctrine, is the oldest upon record. 
 It is also to be observed, that all the religions known in the 
 world are founded, so far as they relate to man, on the unity 
 of man, as being all of one degree. Whether in heaven or in 
 hell, or in whatever state man may be supposed to exist here- 
 after, the good and the bad are the only distinctions. Nay, 
 even the laws of governments are obliged to slide into this 
 principle, by making degrees to consist in crimes, and not in 
 persons. 
 
 It is one of the greatest of all truths, and of the highest 
 advantage to cultivate. By considering man in this light, and 
 by instructing him to consider himself in this light, it places 
 him in a close connection with all his duties, whether to his 
 Creator, or to the creation, of which he is a part ; and it is only 
 when he forgets his origin, or to use a more fashionable phrase, 
 his birth and family, that he becomes dissolute. It is not 
 among the least of the evils of the present existing governments 
 in all parts of Europe, that man, considered as man, is thrown 
 back to a vast distance from his maker, and the artificial chasm 
 tilled up by a succession of barriers, or a sort of turnpike gates, 
 through which he has to pass. I will quote Mr. Burke's cata- 
 logue of barriers that he has set up between man and his Maker. 
 Putting himself in the character of a herald, he says " We 
 fear God we look with awe to kings with affection to parlia- 
 ments with duty to magistrates with reverence to priests, 
 and with respect to nobility." Mr. Burke has forgot to put in 
 "chivalry." He has also forgot to put in Peter. 
 
 The duty of man is not a wilderness of turnpike gates, through 
 which he is to pass by ticket from one point to the other. It is 
 plain and simple, and consists of but two points. His duty to 
 God, which every man must feel ; and with respect to his 
 neighbor, to do as he would be done by If those to whom 
 power is delegated do well, they will be respected ; if not they 
 will be despised ; and with regard to those to whom no power 
 is delegated, but who assume it, the rational world can know 
 nothing of them. 
 
 Hitherto we have spoken only (and that but in part) of the 
 natural rights of man. We have now to consider the civil 
 rights of man, and to show how the one originates out of the 
 other. Man did not enter into society to become worse than he 
 was before, nor to have less rights than he had before, but to
 
 2G-i RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 have tliose rights better secured. His natural rights are the 
 foundation of all his civil rights. But in order to pursue this 
 distinction with more precision, it is necessary to mark the 
 different qualities of natural and civil rights. 
 
 A few words will explain this. Natural rights are those 
 which always appertain to man in right of his existence. Of 
 this kind are all the intellectual rights, or rights of the mind, 
 and also all those rights of acting as an individual for his own 
 comfort and happiness, which are not injurious to the rights of 
 others. Civil rights are those which appertain to man in right 
 of his being a member of society. Every civil right has for its 
 foundation some natural right pre-existing in the individual, 
 but to which his individual power is not, in all cases, sufficiently 
 competent. Of this kind are all those wnich relate to security 
 and protection. 
 
 From this short review it will be easy to distinguish between 
 that class of natural rights which man retains after entering 
 into society, and those which he throws into common stock as 
 a member of society. 
 
 The natural rights which he retains, are all those in which 
 the power to execute is as perfect in the individual as the right 
 itself. Among this class, as is before mentioned, are all the 
 intellectual rights, or rights of the mind; consequently, religion 
 is one of those rights. The natural rights which are not re- 
 tained, are all those in which, though the right is perfect in the 
 individual, the power to execute them is defective. They 
 answer not his purposes. A man by natural right has a right 
 to judge in his own cause ; and so far as the right of the mind 
 is concerned, he never surrenders it; but what availeth it him 
 to judge, if he has not power to redi'ess it 1 ? He therefore 
 deposits this right in the common stock of society, and takes 
 the arm of society, of which he is a part, in preference and in 
 addition to his own. Society grants him nothing. Every man 
 is a proprietor in society, and draws on the capital as a matter 
 of right. 
 
 From these premises, two or three certain conclusions will 
 follow. 
 
 1st, That every civil right grows out of a natural right; or, in 
 other words, is a natural right exchanged. 
 
 2nd, That civil power properly considered as such, is made 
 up of the aggregate of that class of the natural rights of man, 
 which becomes defective in the individual in point of power,
 
 KlUHTS OF MAN 265 
 
 and answers not his purpose, but when collected to a focus, 
 becomes competent to the purpose of every one. 
 
 3rd, That the power produced by the aggregate of natural 
 rights, imperfect in power in the individual, cannot be applied 
 to invade the natural rights which are retained in the individual, 
 and in which the power to execute is as perfect as the right 
 itself. 
 
 We have now, in a few words, traced man from a natural in- 
 dividual to a member of society, and shown, or endeavored t. 
 show, the quality of the natural rights retained, and of those 
 which are exchanged for civil rights. Let us now apply those 
 principles to government. 
 
 In casting our eyes over the world it is extremely easy to 
 distinguish the governments which have arisen out of society, 
 or out of the social compact, from those which have not; but 
 to place this in a clearer light than a single glance may afford, 
 it will be proper to take a review of the several sources from 
 which governments have arisen, and on which they have been 
 founded. 
 
 They may be all comprehended under three heads 1st, 
 superstition ; 2nd, power ; 3rd, the common interests of society, 
 and the common rights of man. 
 
 The first was a government of priest-craft, the second of con- 
 querors, and the third of reason. 
 
 When a set of artful men pretended, through the me ium of 
 oracles, to hold intercourse with the deity, as familiarly a& uie v 
 now march up the back stairs in European courts, the world 
 was completely under the government of superstition. The 
 oracles were consulted, and whatever they were made to say, 
 became the law; and this sort of government lasted just as long 
 as this sort of superstition lasted. 
 
 After these a race of conquerors arose, whose government, 
 like that of William the conqueror, was founded on power, and 
 the sword assumed the name of a sceptre. Governments thus 
 established, last as long as the power to support them lasts; but 
 that they might avail themselves of every engine in their favor, 
 they united fraud to force, and set up an idol which they called 
 divine right, and which, in imitation of the pope, who affects to 
 be spiritual and temporal, and in contradiction to the founder 
 of the Christian religion, twisted itself afterwards into an idol 
 of another shape, called church and state. The key of St. Peter, 
 and the key of the treasury, became quartered on one another,
 
 266 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 and the wondering, cheated multitude, worshipped the inven- 
 tion. 
 
 When I contemplate the natural dignity of man; when I 
 feel (for nature has not been kind enough to me to blunt my 
 feelings) for the honor and happiness of its character, I become 
 irritated at the attempt to govern mankind by force and fraud, 
 us if they were all knaves and fools, and can scarcely avoid 
 feeling disgust for those who are thus imposed upon. 
 
 We have now to review the governments which arise out of 
 .society, in contradistinction to those which arose out of super- 
 stition and conquest. 
 
 It has been thought a considerable advance towards estab- 
 lishing the principles of freedom, to say, that government is a 
 compact between those who govern and those who are governed : 
 but this cannot be true, because it is putting the effect before 
 the cause: for as man must have existed before governments 
 existed, there necessarily was a time when governments did not 
 exist, and consequently there could originally exist no governors 
 to form such a compact with. The fact therefore must be, that 
 the individuals themselves, each in his own personal and sov- 
 ereign right, entered into a compact with each other to produce 
 a government and this is the only mode in which governments 
 have a right to be established; and the only principle on which 
 they have a right to exist. 
 
 To possess ourselves of a clear idea of what government is, or 
 ought to be, we must trace it to its origin. In doing this, we 
 shall easily discover that governments must have arisen, either 
 out of the people, or over the people. Mr. Burke has made no 
 distinction. He investigates nothing to its source, and there- 
 fore he confounds everything: but he has signified his intention 
 of undertaking at some future opportunity, a comparison be- 
 tween the constitutions of England and France. As he thus 
 renders it a subject of controversy by throwing the gauntlet, J 
 take him up on his own ground. It is in high challenges thar 
 high truths have the right of appearing; and I accept it wit! 
 the more readiness because it affords me, at the same time, a > . 
 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 <Uso, that the future claims of the
 
 C02 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 citizens, being directed by simple and incontestalle principles, 
 may always tend to the maintenance of the constitution and 
 the general happiness. 
 
 " For these reasons the national assembly doth recognize and 
 declare, in the presence of the Supreme Being, and with the hope 
 of his blessing and favor, the following sacred rights of men and 
 of citizens: 
 
 " I. Men are born and always continue free and equal in 
 respect of their rights. Civil distinctions, therefore, can only 
 be founded on public utility. 
 
 " II. The end of all political associations is the preservation 
 of the natural and imprescriptible rights ol man; and these 
 rights are liberty, property, security, and resistance of oppres- 
 sion. 
 
 " III. The nation is essentially the source of all sovereignty : 
 nor can any individual or any body of wen, be entitled to any 
 authority which is not expressly derived from it 
 
 " IV. Political liberty consists in the power of doing what- 
 ever does not injure another. The exercise of the natural rights 
 of every man has no other limits than those which are necessary 
 to secure to every other man the free exercise of the same 
 rights; and these limits are determinable only by law. 
 
 "V. The law ought to prohibit only actions hurtful to so- 
 ciety. What is not prohibited by the law, should not be 
 hindered , nor should any one be compelled to that which the 
 law does not require. 
 
 " VI. The law is an expression of the will of the community. 
 All citizens have a right to concur, either personally, or by 
 their representatives, in its formation. It should be the same 
 to all, whether it protects or punishes; and all being equal in 
 its sight, are equally eligible to all honors, places, and employ- 
 ments, according to their different abilities, without any other 
 distinction than that created by their virtues and talents. 
 
 " VII. No man should be accused, arrested, or held in con- 
 finement, except in cases determined by the law, and according 
 to the forms which it has prescribed. All who promote, solicit, 
 execute, or cause to be executed, arbitrary orders, ought to be 
 punished; and every citizen called upon or apprehended by 
 virtue of the law, ought immediately to obey, and not render 
 himself culpable by resistance. 
 
 "VIII. The law ought to impose no other penalties than 
 such as are absolutely and evid^Jy necessary; and no one
 
 EIGHTS OF MAN. 303 
 
 ought to be punished, but in virtue of a law pr mulgated before 
 the offence and legally applied. 
 
 " IX. Every man being presumed innocen till he has been 
 convicted, whenever his detention becomes indispensable, all 
 rigor to him, more than is necessary to secure his person, ought 
 to be provided against by the law. 
 
 " X. No man ought to be molested on account of his opin- 
 ions, not even on account of his religious opinions, provided his 
 avowal of them does not disturb the public order established by 
 the law. 
 
 "XI. The unrestrained communication of thoughts and 
 opinions being one of the most precious rights of man, every 
 citizen may speak, write, and publish freely, provided he is re- 
 sposible for the abuse of this liberty in cases determined by the 
 law. 
 
 " XII. A public force being necessary to give security to 
 the rights of men and of citizens, that force is instituted for the 
 benefit of the community, and not for the particular benefit of 
 the persons with whom it is intrusted. 
 
 "XIII. A common contribution being necessary for the 
 support of the public force, and for defraying the other expenses 
 of government, it ought to be divided equally among the mem- 
 bers of the community, according to their abilities. 
 
 " XI Y. Every citizen has a right, either by himself or his 
 representative, to a free voice in determining the necessity of 
 public contributions, the appropriation of them, and their 
 amount, mode of assessment, and duration, 
 
 " XV. Every community has a right to demand of all its 
 agents an account of their conduct 
 
 "XVI. Every community in which a separation of powers 
 and a security of rights is not provided for, wants a constitu- 
 tion. 
 
 " XVII. The right to property being inviolable and sacred, 
 no one ought to be deprived of it, ereept in cases of evident 
 public necessity legally ascertained, ***+ 1 on condition of a pre- 
 vious just indemnity." 
 
 Observations on the declaration of rights. 
 
 The three first articles comprehend in general terms the whole 
 of a declaration of rights ; all the succeeding articles either 
 originate out of them, or follow as elucidations. The 4th, 5th,
 
 304 EIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 and 6th, define more particularly what is only generally ex- 
 pressed in the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd. 
 
 The 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, and llth articles are declaratory of 
 principles upon which laws shall be construed comforinable to 
 rights already declared. But it is questioned by some very good 
 people in France, as well as in other countries, whether the 10th 
 article sufficiently guarantees the right it is intended to accord 
 with: besides which, it takes off from the divine diginity of 
 religion, and weakens its operative force upon the mind to make 
 it a subject of human laws. It then presents itself to man, like 
 light intercepted by a cloudy medium, in which the source of it 
 is obscured from his sight, and he sees nothing to reverence in 
 the dusky rays.* 
 
 The remaining articles, beginning with the 12th, are sub- 
 stantially contained in the principles of the preceding articles ; 
 but, in the particular situation in which France then was, hav- 
 ing to undo what was wrong, as well as to set up what was right, 
 it was proper to be more particular than in another condition of 
 things would be necessary. 
 
 While the declaration of rights was before the national assem- 
 bly, some of its members remarked, that if a declaration of rights 
 was published, it should be accompanied by a declaration of 
 duties. The observation discovered a mind that reflected, and 
 it only erred by not reflecting far enough. A declaration of 
 rights is, by reciprocity, a declaration of duties also. Whatever 
 is my right as a man, is also the right of another; and it becomes 
 my duty to guarantee, as well as to possess. 
 
 The three first articles are the basis of liberty, as well indi- 
 vidual as national ; nor can any country be called free, whose 
 government does not take its beginning from the principles they 
 
 * There is a single idea, which, if it strikes rightly upon the mind, either 
 in a legal or a religious sense, will prevent any man or any body of men, or 
 any government, from going wrong on the subject of religion ; which is, that 
 before any human institutions of gover"~~^t were known in the world, there 
 
 existed, if I may so express it, a compH.^, between God and man, from the 
 beginning of time ; and that as the relation and condition whic 7 .. man in^his 
 individual person stands in towards his Maker cannot be changed, by ly 
 
 human laws or human authority, that religious devotion, which is a par., of 
 this compact, cannot so much as be made a subject of human laws ; and that 
 all laws must conform themselves to this prior existing compact, and not 
 assume to make the compact conform to the laws, which, besides being hu- 
 man, are subsequent thereto. The first act of man, when he looked around 
 and saw himself a creature which he did not make, and a world furnished 
 for his reception, must have been devotion ; and devotion must ever continue 
 acr * to every individual man, as it appears right to him ; and govern- 
 do mischief bv interfering.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 305 
 
 contain, and continue to preserve them pure : and the whole of 
 the declaration of rights isi of more value to the world, and will 
 do more good, than all the laws and statutes that have yet been 
 promulgated. 
 
 In the declaratory exordium which prefaces the declaration 
 of rights, we see the solemn and majestic spectacle of a nation 
 opening its commission, under the auspices of its Creator, to 
 establish a government; a scene so new, and so transcendently 
 unequalled by anything in the European world, that the name 
 of a revolution is inexpressive of its character, and it rises into 
 a regeneration of man. What are the present governments of 
 Europe, but a scene of iniquity and oppression 1 ? What is that 
 of England 1 Do not its own inhabitants say, it is a market 
 where every man has his price, and where corruption is common 
 traffic, at the expense of a deluded people? No wonder, then, 
 that the French revolution is traduced. Had it confined itself 
 merely to the destruction of flagrant despotism', perhaps Mr. 
 Burke and some others had been silent. Their cry now is, "It 
 has gone too far :" that is, gone too far for them. It stares cor- 
 ruption in the face, and the venal tribe are all alarmed. Their 
 fear discovers itself in their outrage, and they are but publish- 
 ing the groans of a wounded vice. But from such opposition, 
 the French revolution, instead of suffering, receives homage. 
 The more it is struck, the more sparks -will it emit; and the fear 
 is, it will not be struck enough. It has nothing to dread from 
 attacks. Truth has given it an establishment; and time will 
 record it with a name as lasting as its own. 
 
 Having now traced the progress of the French revolution 
 through most of its principal stages, from its commencement to 
 the taking of the Bastile, and its establishment by the declaration 
 of rights, I will close the subject with the energetic apostrophe 
 of M. de la Fayette May this great monument raised to Liberty, 
 serve as a lesson to the oppressor, and an example to tlie op- 
 pressed! * 
 
 * See p. 244 of this work. N.B. Since the taking the Bastile, the occur 
 rences have been published : but the matters recorded in this narrative are 
 prior to that period, and some of them, as may easily be seen, can be but 
 very little known.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS CHAPTER 
 
 To prevent interrupting the argument in the preceding pan 
 of this work, or the narrative that follows it, I reserved some 
 observations to be thrown together into a miscellaneous chapter ; 
 by which variety might not be censured for confusion. Mr. 
 Burke's book is all miscellany. His intention was to make an 
 attack on the French revolution; but instead of proceeding with 
 an orderly arrangement, he has stormed it with a mob of ideas, 
 tumbling over and destroying one another. 
 
 But this confusion and contradiction in Mr. Burke's book, is 
 easily accounted for. When a man in any cause attempts to 
 steer his course by anything else than some popular truth or 
 principle, he is sure to be lost. It is beyond the compass of his 
 capacity to keep all the parts of an argument together, and 
 make them unite in one issue, by any other means than hav- 
 ing his guide always in view. Neither memory nor invention 
 will supply the want of it. The former fails him, and the 
 latter betrays him. 
 
 Notwithstanding the nonsense, for it deserves no bette 
 name, that Mr. Burke has asserted about hereditary rights 
 and hereditary succession, and that a nation has not a right to 
 form a government for itself, it happened to fall in his way to 
 give some account of what government is. " Government," 
 says he, "is a contrivance of human wisdom." 
 
 Admitting that government is a contrivance of human wis- 
 dom, it must necessarily follow that hereditary succession and 
 hereditary rights (as they are called) can make no part of it, 
 because it is impossible to make wisdom hereditary; and, on 
 the other hand, t/uit cannot be a wise contrivance, which in its 
 operation may commit the government of a nation to the 
 wisdom of an idiot. The ground which Mr. Burke now takes 
 is fatal to every part of his cause. The argument changes from 
 hereditary rights to hereditary wisdom ; and the question is, 
 who is the wisest man ? He must now show that everyone in 
 the line of hereditary succession was a Solomon, or his title is 
 not good to be a king. What a stroke has Mr. Burke now 
 made ! to use a sailor's phrase he has swabbed the deck, and 
 scarcely left a name legible in the list of kings; and he has
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. o07 
 
 mowed down and thinned the house of peers with a scythe aa 
 formidable as death and time. 
 
 But Mr. Burke appears to have been aware of this retort, 
 and he has taken care to guard against it, by making govern- 
 ment to be not only a contrivance of human wisdom, but a 
 monopoly of wisdom. He puts the nation as fools on one side, 
 and places his government of wisdom, all wise men of Gotham, 
 on the other side; and he then proclaims, and says that "men 
 have a RIGHT that their WANTS should be provided for by thu 
 wisdom." Having thus made proclamation, he next proceeda 
 to explain to them what their wants are, and also what theii 
 rights are. In this he has succeeded dexterously, for he makes 
 their wants to be a want of wisdom; but as this is but cold 
 comfort, he then informs them, that they have a right (not to 
 any of the wisdom) but to be governed by it; and in order to 
 impress them with a solemn reverence for this monopoly- 
 government of wisdom, and of its vast capacity for all purposes, 
 possible or inpossible, right or wrong, he proceeds with astro- 
 logical, mysterious importance, to tell them its powers in these 
 words " The rights of men in government ave their advan- 
 tages: and these are often in balances between differences oi 
 good; and in compromises sometimes between good and evil, 
 and sometimes between evil and evil. Political reason is a 
 computing principle; adding, subtracting, multiplying, and 
 dividing, morally and not metaphysically or matiiematically, 
 true moral demonstrations." 
 
 As the wondering audience whom Mr. Burke supposes him- 
 self talking to, may not understand all this jargon, I will under- 
 take to be its interpteter. The meaning then, good people, of 
 all this is, that government is governed by no principle whatever; 
 that it can make evil good, or good evil, just as it pleases. In 
 short, that government is arbitrary pou-er. 
 
 But there are some things which Mr. Burke has forgotten : 
 1st, he has not shown where the wisdom originally came from; 
 and, 2nd, he has not shown by what authority it first began to 
 act. In the manner he introduced the matters, it is either 
 
 Government stealing wisdom, or wisdom stealing government, 
 t is without an origin, and its powers without authority. In 
 short, it is usurpation. 
 
 Whether it be from a sense of shame, or from a conscious- 
 ness of some radical defect in government necessary to be kept 
 out of sight, or from both, or from some other cause, I under-
 
 take not to determine; but so it is, that a monarchical reasoner 
 never traces government to its soui'ce. It is one of the shibbo- 
 leths by which he may be known. A thousand years hence, 
 those who shall live in America, or in France, will look back 
 with contemplative pride on the origin of their governments, 
 and say, this was the work of our glorious ancestors t But what 
 can a monarchical talker say? What has he to exult in? 
 Alas ! he has nothing. A certain something forbids him to 
 look back to a beginning, lest some robber, or some Robin 
 Hood, should rise from the long obscurity of time, and say, 1 
 am the origin. Hard as Mr. Burke labored under the regency 
 bill and hereditary succession two years ago, and much as he 
 dived for precedents, he still had not boldness enough to bring 
 up William of Normandy and say, there is the head of the list, 
 there is the fountain of honor, the sou of a prostitute, and the 
 plunderer of the English nation. 
 
 The opinions of men, with respect to government, are chang- 
 ing fast in all countries. The revolutions of America and 
 France have thrown a beam of light over the world which 
 reaches into man. The enormous expense of governments have 
 provoked people to think by making them feel ; and when once 
 the vail begins to rend, it admits rot of repair. Ignorance is 
 of a peculiar nature ; once dispelled, it is impossible to re-es- 
 tablish it. It is not originally a thing of itself, but is only the 
 absence of knowledge ; and though man may be kept ignorant, 
 he cannot be made ignorant. The mind, in discovering truths, 
 acts in the same manner as it acts through the eye in discover- 
 ing an object ; when once any object has been seen, it is impos- 
 sible to put the mind back to the same condition it was in before 
 it saw it. Those who talk of a counter-revolution in France, 
 show how little they understand of man. There does not exist 
 in the compass of language, an arrangement of words to express 
 so much as the means of effecting a counter-revolution. The 
 means must be an obliteration of knowledge ; and it has never 
 yet been discovered how to make a man unk'now his knowledge, 
 or unthink his thoughts. 
 
 Mr. Burke is laboring in vain to stop the progress of know- 
 ledge ; and it comes with the worse grace from him, as there is 
 a certain transaction known in the city, which renders him sus- 
 pected of being a pensioner in a fictitious name. This may ac- 
 count for some strange doctrine he has advanced in his book,
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 300 
 
 which, though he points it at the Revolution society, is effectu- 
 ally directed against the whole nation. 
 
 "The king of England," says he, "holds Ms crown (for it 
 does not belong to the nation, according to Mr. Burke) in con- 
 tempt of the choice of the Revolution society, who have not a 
 single vote for a king among them either individually or col- 
 lectively ; and his majesty's heirs, each in his time and order 
 will come to the crown with the same contempt of their choice. 
 'th ^"hich his majesty has succeeded to that which he no" 
 wears." 
 
 ^LS to who is king of England or elsewhere, or whether there 
 is any at all, or whether the people choose a Cherokee chief, or 
 a Hessian hussar for a king, is not a matter that I trouble my- 
 self about, be that to themselves ; but with respect to the doc- 
 trine, so far as it relates to the rights of men and nations, it is 
 as abominable as anything ever uttered in the most enslaved 
 country under heaven. Whether it sounds worse to my ear, 
 by not being accustomed to hear such despotism, than it does 
 to the ear of another person, 1 am not so well a judge of ; but 
 of its abominable principle, I am at no loss to judge. 
 
 It is not the Revolution society that Mr. Burke means ; it 
 is the nation, as well in its original, as in its representative 
 character ; and he has taken care to make himself understood, 
 by saying, that they have not a vote either collectively or indiv- 
 idually. The Revolution society is composed of citizens of all 
 denominations, and of members of both houses of parliament, 
 and consequently, if there is not a right to vote in any of the 
 characters, there can be no right to any, either in the nation or 
 iu its parliament. This ought to be a caution to every country, 
 how it imports foreign families to be kings. It is somewhat 
 3urious to observe, that although the people of England have 
 been in the habit of talking about the kings, it is always a 
 foreign house of kings; hating foreigners, yet governed by 
 them. It is now the house of Brunswick, one of the petty 
 tribes of Germany. 
 
 It has hitherto been the practice of the English parliaments, 
 to regulate what was called the succession (taking it for grant- 
 ed, that the nation then continued to accord to the form of an- 
 nexing a monarchical branch to its government; for without 
 this, the parliament could not have had authority to have sent 
 either to Holland or to Hanover, or to impose a king upon a 
 nation against its will). And this must be the utmost limit to
 
 310 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 which parliament can go upon the case ; but the right of the 
 nation goes to the whole case, because it is the right of chang- 
 ing the whole form of government. The right of a parliament 
 is only a right in trust, a right by delegation, and that but from 
 a very small part of the nation ; and one of its houses has not 
 even this. But the right of the nation is an original right, as 
 universal as taxation. The nation is the paymaster of every- 
 thing, and everything must conform to its general will. 
 
 I remember taking notice of a speech in what is called the 
 English house of peers, by the then Earl of Shelburne, and J 
 think it was at the time he was minister, which is applicable to 
 this case. I do not directly charge my memory with every 
 particular ; but the words and the purport as nearly as I re- 
 member, were these : that the form of government was a matter 
 wJiolly at the will of a nation at all times : that if it chose a 
 monarchical form, it had a right to have it so, and if it after- 
 wards chose to be a republic, it had a right to be a republic, and 
 to say to a king, we have no longer any occasion for you. 
 
 When Mr. Burke says that ' his majesty's heirs and succes- 
 sors, each in their time and order, will come to the crown with 
 the same contempt of their choice with which his majesty has 
 succeeded to that he wears," it is saying too much even to the 
 humblest individual in the country ; part of whose daily labor 
 goes towards making up the million sterling a-year which the 
 country gives a person it styles a king. Government with in- 
 solence, is despotism; but when contempt is added, it becomes 
 worse ; and to pay for contempt is the excess of slavery. This 
 species of government comes from Germany ; and reminds me 
 of what one of the Brunswick soldiers told me, who was taken 
 prisoner by the Americans in the late war; "Ah!" said he. 
 "America is a fine free country, it is worth people's fighting for : 
 I know the difference by knowing my own ; in my country, if 
 the prince say, eat straw, we eat straw." God help that coun 
 try, thought I, be it England or elsewhere, whose liberties are 
 to be protected by German principles of government and princes 
 of Brunswick. 
 
 As Mr. Burke sometimes speaks of England, sometimes of 
 France, and sometimes of the world, and of government in 
 general, it is difficult to answer his book without apparently 
 meeting him on the same ground. Although principles of 
 government are general subjects, it is next to impossible, in 
 many ca.ses, to separate them from the idea of place and cir-
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN, 311 
 
 cumstance ; and the more so when circumstances are put for 
 arguments, which is frequently the case with Mr. Burke. 
 
 In the former part of his book, addressing himself to the 
 people of France, he says, " No experience has taught us 
 (meaning.the English), that in any other course or method than 
 that of an hereditary crown, can our liberties be regularly per- 
 petuated and preserved sacred as our hereditary right." I ask 
 Mr. Burke who is to take them away ? M. de la Fayette, in 
 speaking of France, says, " For a nation to be free, it is suffici- 
 ent that she wills it." But Mr. Burke represents England as 
 wanting capacity to take care of itself ; and that its liberties 
 must be taken care of by a king, holding it in " contempt." If 
 England is sunk to this, it is preparing itself to eat straw, as 
 in Hanover or in Brunswick. But besides the folly of the de- 
 claration, it happens that the facts are all against Mr. Burke. 
 It was by the government being hereditary, that the liberties 
 of the people were endangered. Charles I. and James II. are 
 instances of this truth, yet neither of them went so far as to hold 
 the nation in contempt. 
 
 As it is sometimes of advantage to the people of one country 
 to hear what those- of other countries have to say respecting it, 
 it is possible that the people of France may learn something 
 from Mr. Burke's book, and that the people of England may 
 also learn something from the answers it will occasion. When 
 nations fall out about freedom, a wide field of debate is opened. 
 The argument commences with the rights of war, without its 
 evils ; and as knowledge is the object contended for, the party 
 that sustains the defeat obtains the prize. 
 
 Mr. Burke talks about what he calls an hereditary crown, as 
 if it were some production of nature; or as if, like time, it had 
 power to operate not only independently, but in spite of man ; 
 or as if it were a thing or a subject universally consented to. 
 Alas ! it has none of those properties, but is the reverse of them 
 all. It is a thing of imagination, the propriety of which is 
 more than doubted, and the legality of which in a few years 
 will be denied. 
 
 But, to arrange this matter in a clearer view than what 
 general expressions can convey, it will be necessary to state the 
 distinct heads under which (what is called) an hereditary crown, 
 or, more properly speaking, an hereditary succession to the 
 government of a nation, can be considered, which are, 
 
 1st. The right of a particular family to establish itself.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 2nd. The right of a nation to establish a particular family. 
 
 With respect to the first of these heads, that of a family 
 establishing itself with hereditary powers on its own authority, 
 atid independent of the consent of a nation, all men will concur 
 in calling it despotism; and it would be trespassing on their 
 understanding to attempt to prove it. 
 
 But the second head, that of a nation establishing a parti- 
 cular family with hereditary powers, does not present itself as 
 despotism on the first reflection; but if men will permit a 
 second reflection to take place, and carry that reflection forward 
 but one remove out of their own persons to that of their off- 
 spring, they will then see that hereditary succession becomes in 
 its consequences the same despotism to others, which they repro- 
 bated for themselves. It operates to preclude the consent of 
 the succeeding generation, and the preclusion of consent is des- 
 potism. When the person who at any time shall be in posses- 
 sion of a government, or those who stand in succession to him, 
 shall say to a nation, I hold this power in " contempt " of you, 
 it signifies not on what authority he pretends to say it. It is 
 no relief, but an aggravation to a person in slavery, to reflect 
 that he was sold by his parent; and as that which heightens the 
 criminality of an act cannot be produced to prove the legality 
 of it, hereditary succession cannot be established as a legal 
 thing. 
 
 In order to arrive at a more perfect decision on this head, it 
 will be proper to consider the generation which undertakes to 
 establish a family with hereditary powers, separately from the 
 generations which are to follow; and also to consider the char- 
 acter in which the first generation acts with respect to succeeding 
 generations. 
 
 The generation which selects a person, and puts him at the 
 head of its government, either with the title of king, or any 
 other distinction, acts its own choice, be it wise or foolish, as a 
 free agent for itself. The perso- ^: set z^ ' "ot hereditary, 
 but selected and appointed , aud the generation wk^ sets him 
 up, does not live under an hereditary government, but ur"^ 
 a government of its own choice and establishment. Were ti.. 
 generation who sets him up, and the person so set up, to IX 
 forever, it never could become hereditary succession : hereditary 
 succession can only follow on death of the first parties. 
 
 As therefore hereditary succession is out of the question -with 
 respect to the first generation, we have now to consider the
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN, 813 
 
 character in which that generation acts with respect to the com- 
 mencing generation, and to all succeeding ones. 
 
 It assumes a character, to which it has neither right nor title. 
 It changes itself from a legislator to a testator, and affects to 
 make its will, which is to have operation after the demise of the 
 makers, to bequeath the government; and it not only attempts 
 to bequeath, but to establish on the succeeding generation a 
 new and different form of government under which itself lived. 
 itself, as is before observed, lived not under an hereditary 
 government, but under a government of its own choice and 
 stablishment; and it now attempts by virtue of a will and 
 estament (and which it has not authority to make), to take 
 rom the commencing generation, and all future ones, the rights 
 aid free agency by which itself acted. 
 
 But exclusive of the right which any generation has to act 
 Collectively as a testator, the objects to which it applies itself in 
 this case, are not within the compass of any law, or of any will 
 or testament. 
 
 The rights of men in society, are neither devisable, nor trans- 
 ferable, nor annihilable, but are descendable only ; and it is not 
 MI the power of any generation to intercept finally, and cut off 
 the descent. If the present generation or any other, are dis- 
 posed to be slaves, it does not lessen the right of the succeeding 
 generation to be free: wrongs cannot have a legal descent. 
 When Mr. Burke attempts to maintain that the English nation 
 did, at the revolution of 1688, most solemnly renounce and abdi- 
 cate their rights for themselves, and Jor all their posterity for 
 ever, he speaks a language that merits not reply, and which can 
 only excite contempt for his prostitute principles, or pity for 
 his ignorance. 
 
 In whatever light hereditary succession, as growing out of 
 the will and testament of some former generation, presents 
 itself, it is an absurdity. A cannot make a will to take from 
 B his property, and give i to C; yet this is the manner in 
 which (what is called^ hereditary succession by law, operates. 
 A certain former generation made a will to take away the rights 
 of the commencing generation and all the future ones, and con- 
 vey those rights to a third pei'son, who afterwards comes for- 
 ward, and tells them, in Mr. Burke's language, that they have 
 no rights, that their rights are already bequeathed to him, and 
 that he will gpvern in contempt of them. From such principles, 
 cV*** such ignorance, good Lord deliver the world !
 
 314 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 But, after all, what is this metaphor, called a crown, 01 
 rather, what is monarchy 1 Is it a thing, or is it a name, or is 
 it a fraud 1 Is it a " contrivance of human wisdom," or human 
 craft, to obtain money from a nation under "specious pretences ? 
 Is it a thing necessary to a nation ? If it is, in what does that 
 necessity consist, what service does it perform, what is its busi- 
 ness, and what are its merits 1 Doth the virtue consist in the 
 metaphor, or in the man? Doth the goldsmith that makes the 
 crown, make the virtue also ? Doth it operate like Fortunatus's 
 wishing cap, or Harlequin's wooden sword ? Doth it make a 
 man a conjurer? In fine, what is it 1 ? It appears to be a some- 
 thing going much out of fashion, falling into ridicule, and 
 rejected in some countries both as unnecessary and expensive 
 In America it is considered as an absurdity, and in France it 
 has so far declined, that the goodness of the man, and the res 
 pect for his personal character, are the only things that preserve 
 ' the appearance of its existence. 
 
 If government be what Mr Burke describes it, " a contriv 
 ance of human wisdom," I might ask him, if wisdom was at 
 such a low ebb in England, that it was become necessary to im- 
 port it from Holland and from Hanover ? But I will do th% 
 country the justice to say, that that was not the case ; and even 
 if it was it mistook the cargo. The wisdom of every country, 
 when properly exerted, is sufficient for all its purposes: and 
 there could exist no more real occasion in England to have 
 sent for a Dutch stadtholder, or a German elector, than there 
 was in America to have done a similar thing. If a country 
 does not understand its own affairs, how is a foreigner to under- 
 stand them, who knows neither its laws, its manners, nor its 
 language ? If there existed a man so transcendently wise above 
 all others, that his wisdom was necessary to instruct a nation, 
 some reason might be offered for monarchy; but when we cast 
 our eyes about a country, and observe how every part under- 
 stands its own affairs; and when we look around the world, 
 and see that of all men in it, the race of kings are the most in- 
 significant in capacity, our reason cannot fail to ask us What 
 are those men kept for? 
 
 If there is anything in monarchy which we people of America 
 do not understand, I wish Mr. Burke would be so kind as to 
 inform us. I see in America, a government extending over a 
 country ten times as large as England, and conducted with 
 regularity for a fortieth part of the expense which government
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 315 
 
 costs in England. If I ask a man in America, if he wants a 
 king, he retorts, and asks me if I take him for an idiot. How 
 is it that this difference happens: are we more or less wise than 
 others ? I see in America the generality of the people living in 
 a style of plenty unknown in monarchical countries; and I see 
 that the principle of its government, which is that of the equal 
 rights of man, is making a rapid progress in the world. 
 
 If monarchy is a useless thing, why is it kept up anywhere 1 
 And if a necessary thing, how can it be dispensed with ? That 
 civil government is necessary, all civilized nations will agree in ; 
 but civil government is republican government. All that part 
 of the government cf England which begins with the office of 
 constable, and proceeds through the department of magistrate, 
 quarter-session, and general assize, including the trial by jury, 
 is republican government. Nothing of monarchy appears in 
 any part of it, except the name which William the Conoueror 
 imposed upon the English, that of obliging them to call him 
 ' their sovereign lord the king." 
 
 It is easy to conceive, that a band of interested men, such as 
 placemen, pensioners, lords of the bed-chamber, lords of the 
 kitchen, lords of the necessary -house, and the Lord knows what 
 besides, can find a many reasons for monarchy as their salaries, 
 paid at the <jxppnHi of the country, amount to ; but if I ask the 
 fYvrmer. th manufacturer, the merchant, the tradesman, and 
 down through all the occupations of life to the common laborer, 
 what service monarchy is to him, he can give me no answer. If 
 I ask him. what monarchy is, he believes it is something like a 
 sinecure. 
 
 Notwithstanding the taxes of England amount to almost 
 seventeen millions a-year, said to be for the expenses of govern- 
 ment, it is still evident that the sense of the nation is left to 
 govern itself, and does govern itself by magistrates and juries, 
 almost at its own charge, on republican principles, exclusive of 
 the expense of taxes. The salaries of the judges are almost the 
 only chargo that is paM out of the revenue. Considering that 
 all the internal government is executed by the people, the taxes 
 of England ought to be the lightest of any nation in Europe; 
 instead of which, they are the contrary. As this cannot be ac- 
 counted for on the score of civil government, the subject 
 necessarily extends itself to the monarchical part. 
 
 When the people of England sent for George I. (and it would 
 puzzle a wiser man than Mr. Burke to discover for what he
 
 316 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 could be wanted, or what service he could render) they ought 
 at least to have conditioned for the abandonment of Hanover. 
 Besides the endless German intrigues that must. follow from a 
 German elector's being king of England, there is a natm'al im- 
 possibility of uniting in the same person the principles of freedom 
 and the principles of despotism, or, as it is called in England, 
 arbitrary power. A German elector is, in his electorate, a 
 despot: how then should it be expected that he should be at- 
 tached to principles of liberty in one country, while his interest 
 in another was to be supported by despotism 1 The union can- 
 not exist; and it might easily have been foreseen, that German 
 electors would make German kings, or in Mr. Burke's words, 
 would assume government with "contempt." The English have 
 been 'in the habit of considering a king of England only in 
 the character in which he appears to them; whereas the same 
 person, while the connexion lasts, has a home-seat in another 
 country, the interest- of which is at variance with their own, 
 and the principles of the government in opposition to each 
 other. To such a person England will appear as a town resid- 
 ence, and the electorate as the estate. The English may wish, 
 as I believe they do, success to the principles of liberty in 
 France, or in Germany; but a German elector trembles for the 
 fate of despotism in his electorate; and the duchy of Mecklen- 
 burg, where the present queen's family governs, is under the 
 same wretched state of arbitrary power, and the people in 
 slavish vassalage. 
 
 There never was a time when it became the English to watch 
 continental intrigues more circumspectly than at the present 
 moment, and to distinguish the politics of the electorate from 
 politics of the nation. The revolution of .France has entirely 
 changed the ground with respect to England and France, as 
 nations: but the German despots, with Prussia u their head, 
 are combining against liberty, and the fondness of Mr 'Pitt for 
 office, and the interest which all his family connexions have ob- 
 lained, do not give sufficient security against this inh igue. 
 
 As everything which passes in the world becuim.d matter for 
 history, I will now quit this subject, and take a concise review 
 of the state of parties and politics in England, as Mr. Burke 
 has done in France. 
 
 Whether the present reign commenced with contempt, I leave 
 to Mr. Burke : certain, however it is, that it had strongly that 
 appearance. The animosity of the English nation, it is very
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 317 
 
 well remembered, ran high: and, had the true principles of 
 liberty been as well understood then as they now promise to be, 
 it is probable the nation would not have patiently submitted to 
 so much. George I. and II. were sensible of a rival in the remains 
 of the Stuarts : and as they could not but consider themselves 
 as standing on their good behavior, they had prudence to keep 
 their German principles of government to themselves; but as 
 the Stuart family wore away, the prudence became less neces- 
 sary. 
 
 The contest between rights, and what were called prerogatives, 
 continued to heat the nation till some time after the conclusion 
 of the American revolution, when all at once it fell a calm, exe- 
 cration exchanged itself for applause, and court popularity 
 sprung up like a mushroom in the night. 
 
 To account for this sudden transition, it is proper to observe, 
 that there are two distinct species of popularity ; the one ex- 
 cited by merit, the other by resentment. As the nation had 
 formed itself into two parties, and each was extolling the 
 merits of its parliamentary champions, for and against the pre- 
 rogative, nothing could operate to give a more general shock than 
 an immediate coalition of the champions themselves. The parti- 
 sans of each being thus suddenly left in the lurch, and mutually 
 heated with disgust at the measure, felt no other relief than in 
 uniting in a common execration against both. A higher stim- 
 ulus of resentment being thus excited than what the contest 
 on prerogatives had occasioned, the nation quitted all former 
 objects of rights and wrongs, and sought only that of gratifica- 
 tion, The indignation at the coalition so effectually superseded 
 the indignation against the court, as to extinguish it: and 
 without any change of principles on the part of the court, the 
 same people who had reprobated its despotism, united with it, 
 to revenge themselves on the coalition parliament. The case 
 was not, which they liked best but, which they hated most; 
 and the least hated passed for love. The dissolution of the 
 coalition parliament, as it afforded the means of gratifying the 
 resentment of the nation, could not fail to be popular; and 
 from hence arose the popularity of the court. 
 
 Transitions of this kind exhibit to us a nation under the 
 government of temper, instead of a fixed and steady principle; 
 and having once committed itself, however rashly, it feels itself 
 urged along to justify by continuance its first proceeding. 
 Measures, which at other times it would censure, it now ap
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 proves, and acte persuasion upon itself to suffocate ite judgment. 
 
 On the return of a new parliament, the new minister, Mr. 
 Pitt, found himself in a secure majority; and the nation gave 
 him credit, not out of regard to himself, but because it had 
 resolved to do it out of resentment to another. He introduced 
 himself to public notice by a proposed reform of parliament, 
 which in its operation would have amounted to a public justi- 
 fication of corruption. The nation was to be at the expense of 
 buying up the rotten boroughs, whereas it ought to punish the 
 persons who deal in the traffic. 
 
 Passing over the two bubbles, of the Dutch business, and 
 the million a-year to sink the national debt, the matter which 
 is most prominent, is the affair of the regency. Never, in the 
 course of my observation, was delusion more successfully acted, 
 nor a nation more completely deceived. But, to make this ap- 
 pear, it will be necessary to go over the circumstances. 
 
 Mr. Fox had stated in the house of commons, that the prince 
 of Wales, as heir in succession, had a right in himself to assume 
 the government. This was opposed by Mr. Pitt; and, so far 
 as the opposition was confined to the doctrine, it was just. 
 But the principles which Mr. Pitt maintained on the contrary 
 side, were as bad, or worse, in their extent than those of Mr. 
 Fox; because they went to establish an aristocracy over the 
 nation, and over the small representation it has in the house 
 of commons. 
 
 Whether the English form of government be good or bad, is 
 not in this case the question; but, taking it as it stands, without 
 regard to its merits or demerits, Mr. Pitt was further from the 
 point than Mr. Fox. 
 
 It is supposed to consist of three parts ; while, therefore, the 
 nation is disposed to continue this form, the parts have a na- 
 tional standing, independent of each other, and are not the 
 creatures of each other. Had Mr. Fox passed through parlia- 
 ment, and said, that the person alluded to claimed on the 
 ground of the nation, Mr. Pitt must then have contended for 
 (what he called) the right of the parliament, against the right 
 of the nation. 
 
 By the appearance which the contest made, Mr. Fox took 
 the hereditary ground, and Mr. Pitt the parliamentary ground ; 
 but the fact is, they both took hereditary ground, and Mr. 
 Pitt took the worst of the two. 
 
 What is called the parliament, is made up of two houses;
 
 BIGHTS OF MAN. 819 
 
 one of which is more hereditary, and more beyond the control 
 of the nation, than what the crown (as it is called) is supposed 
 to be. It is an hereditary aristocracy, assuming and asserting 
 indefeasible, irrevocable rights and author ty, wholly indepen- 
 dent of the nation. Where then was the merited popularity 
 of exalting this hereditary power over another hereditary power 
 less independent of the nation than what itself assumed to be, 
 and of absorbing the rights of the nation into a house over 
 which it has neither election nor control t 
 
 The general impulse of the nation was right; but it acted 
 without reflection. It approved the opposition made to the 
 right set up by Mr. Fox, without perceiving that Mr. Pitt was 
 supporting another indefeasible right, more remote from the 
 nation in opposition to it. 
 
 With respect to the house of commons, it is elected but by a 
 small part of the nation; but were the election as universal 
 as taxation, which it ought to be, it would still be only the 
 organ of the nation, and cannot possess inherent rights. When 
 the national assembly of France resolves a matter, the resolve 
 is made in right of the nation; but, Mr. Pitt, on all national 
 questions, so far as they refer to the house of commons, absorbs 
 the right of the nation into the organ, and makes the organ 
 into a nation, and the nation itself into a cipher. 
 
 In a few words, the question on the regency was a question 
 on a million a-year, which is appropriated to the executive de- 
 partment: and Mr. Pitt could not possess himself of any man- 
 agement of this sum, without setting up the supremacy of 
 parliament; and when this was accomplished, it was indifferent 
 who should be regent, as he must be regent at his own cost. 
 Among the curiosities which this contentious debate afforded, 
 was that of making the great seal into a king; the affixing of 
 which to an act, was to be royal authority. If, therefore, royal 
 authority is a great seal, it consequently is in itself nothing; 
 and a good constitution would be of infinitely more value to the 
 nation, than what the three nominal powers, as they now stand 
 are worth. 
 
 The continual use of the word constitution in the English 
 parliament, shows that there is none; and that the whole is 
 merely a form of government without , Constitution, and con- 
 stituting itself with what powers it pleases. If there was a 
 constitution, it certainly would be referred to; and the debate 
 on any constitutional point would terminate by producing the
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 constitution. One member says, this is constitutional; an- 
 other says, that is constitutional To-day it is one thing; to- 
 morrow it is something else while the maintaining the debate 
 proves there is none. Constitution is now the cant word of 
 parliament, turning itself to the ear of the nation. Formerly 
 it was the universal supremacy and the omnipotence of parlia- 
 ment. But since the progress of liberty in France, those 
 phrases have a despotic harshness in their note; and the Eng- 
 lish parliament has caught the fashion from the national 
 assembly, but without the substance, of speaking of a consti- 
 tution. 
 
 As the present generation of people in England did not 
 make the government, they are not accountable for any of its 
 defects; but that sooner or later it must come into their hands 
 to undergo a constitutional reformation, is as certain as that 
 the same thing has happened in France. If France, with a 
 revenue of nearly twenty-four millions sterling, with an extent 
 of rich and fertile country above four times larger than Eng- 
 land, with a population of twenty-four millions of inhabitants 
 to support taxation, with upwards of ninety millions sterling 
 of gold and silver circulating in the nation, and with a debt 
 less that the present debt of England still found it necessary, 
 from whatever cause, to come to a settlement of its affairs, it 
 solves the problem of funding for both countries. 
 
 It is out of the question to say how long what is called the 
 English constitution has lasted, and to argue from thence how 
 long it is to last; the question is how long can the funding 
 system last ? It is a thing but of modern invention, and has 
 not yet continued beyond the life of a man ; yet, in that short 
 rfpace, it has so far accumulated that, together with the current 
 expenses, it requires an amount of taxes at least equal to the 
 whole landed rental of the nation in acres, to defray the annual 
 expenditures. That a government could not always have gone 
 on by the same system which has been followed for the last 
 seventy years, must be evident to every man; and for the same 
 reason it cannot always go on. 
 
 The funding system is not money; neither is it, properly 
 speaking, credit. It, in effect, creates upon paper the sum 
 which it appears to borrow, and lays on a tax to keep the 
 imaginary capital alive by the payment of interest, and sends 
 the annuity to market, to be sold for paper already in circu- 
 lation. If any credit is given, it is to the disposition of the
 
 BIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 people to pay the tax, and not to the government which lays it 
 on. When this disposition expires, what is supposed tp be the 
 credit of government expires with it. The instance of France, 
 under the former government, shows that it is impossible to 
 compel the payment of taxes by force, when a whole nation is 
 determined to take its stand upon that ground. 
 
 Mr. Burke, in his review of the finances of France, states 
 the quantity of gold and silver in France at about eighty-eight 
 millions sterling. In doing this he has, I presume, divided by 
 the difference of exchange, instead of the standard of twenty- 
 four livres to a pound sterling; for M. Neckar's statement, 
 from which Mr. Burke's is taken, is two thousand two hundred 
 millions of livres, which is upwards of ninety-one millions and 
 a half sterling. 
 
 M. Neckar, in France, and Mr. George Chalmers, of the office 
 of trade and plantation in England, of which Lord Hawkesbury 
 is president, published nearly about the same time (1786) an 
 account of the quantity of money in each nation, from the re- 
 turns of the mint of each nation. Mr. Chalmers, from the 
 returns of the English mint at the Tower of London, states the 
 quantity of money in England, including Scotland and Ireland, 
 to be twenty millions sterling.* 
 
 M. Neckar t says that the amount of money in France, re- 
 coined from the old coin which was called in, was two thousand 
 five hundred millions of livres (upwards of one hundred and 
 four millions sterling), and, after deducting for waste, and what 
 may be in the West Indies, and other possible circumstances, 
 states the circulating quantity at home to be ninety-one 
 millions and a half sterling; but, taking it as Mr. Burke has 
 put it, it is sixty -eight millions more than the national quantity 
 in England. 
 
 That the quantity of money in France cannot be under this 
 sum, may et once be seen from the state of the French revenue, 
 without referring to the records of the French mint for proofs. 
 The revenue of France prior to the revolution was nearly 
 twenty-four millions sterling; and as paper had then no exist- 
 ence in France, the whole revenue was collected upon gold and 
 silver; and it would have been impossible to have collected 
 such a quantity of revenue upon a less national quantity than 
 
 * See "Estimate of the Comparative Strength of Great Britain," by Geo. 
 Chalmers. 
 
 t See "Administration of the Finances of France," roL Hi., by M. Neckar. 
 A
 
 o22 RIGHTS OF MAlf 
 
 M. Neckar has stated. Before the establishment of paper in 
 England, the revenue was about a fourth part of the national 
 amount of gold and silver, as may be known by referring to 
 the revenue prior to . ing William, and the quantity of money 
 stated to be in the nation at that time, which was nearly as 
 much as it is now. 
 
 It can be of no real service to a nation, to impose upon itself, 
 or to permit itself to be imposed upon; but the prejudices of 
 some, and the imposition of others, have always represented 
 France as a nation possessing but little money, whereas the 
 quantity is not only more than four times what the quantity 
 is in England, but is considerably greater on a proportion of 
 numbers. To account for this deficiency on the part of Eng- 
 land, some reference should be had to the English system of 
 funding. It operates to multiply paper, and to substitute it in 
 the room of money, in various shapes; and the more paper is 
 multiplied, the more opportunities are afforded to export the 
 specie ; and it admits of a possibility (by extending it to small 
 notes) of increasing paper, till there is no money left. 
 
 I know this is not a pleasant subject to English readers; but 
 the matters I am going to mention are so important in them- 
 selves, as to require the attention of men interested in money 
 transactions of a public nature. There is a circumstance stated 
 by M. Neckar, in his treatise on the administration of xv 
 finances, which has never been attended to in England, t 
 which forms the only basis whereon to estimate the quantity 
 of money (gold and silver) which ought to be in every nation 
 in Europe, to preserve a relative proportion with other nations. 
 
 Lisbon and Cadiz are the two ports into which (money) gold 
 and silver from South America are imported, and which after- 
 wards divides and spreads itself over Europe by means of com- 
 merce, and increases the quantity of money in all parts of 
 Europe. If, therefore, the amount of the annual importation 
 into Europe can be known, and the relative proportion of the 
 foreign commerce of the several nations by which it is distribut- 
 ed can be ascertained, they give a rule, sufficiently true, to 
 ascertain the quantity of money which ought to be found in any 
 nation at any given time. 
 
 M. Neckar shows from the registers of Lisbon and Cadiz, 
 that the importation of gold and silver into Europe, is five mil- 
 lions sterling annually. He has not taken it on a single year, 
 but on an average of fifteen succeeding years, from 1763 to
 
 EIGHTS OF MAN. 323 
 
 1777, both inclusive: in which time the amount was one thou- 
 sand eight hundred million livres, which is seventy-five millions 
 sterling.* 
 
 From the commencement of the Hanover succession in 1714, 
 to the time Mr. Chalmers published, is seventy -two years ; and 
 the quantity imported into Europe, in that time, would be three 
 hundred and sixty millions sterling. 
 
 If the foreign commerce of Great Britain be stated at a sixth 
 part of what the whole foreign commerce of Europe amounts to 
 (which is probably an inferior estimation to what the gentle- 
 men at the exchange would allow), the proportion which Britain 
 should draw by commerce, of this sum, to keep herself on a pro- 
 portion with the rest of Europe, would be also a sixth part, 
 which is sixty millions sterling; and if the same allowance for 
 waste and accident be made for England, which M. Neckar 
 makes for France, the quantity remaining after these deduc- 
 tions, would be fifty-two millions, and this sum ought to have 
 been in the nation (at the time Mr. Chalmers published) in 
 addition to the sum which was in the nation at the commence- 
 ment of the Hanover succession, and to have made in the wholo 
 at least sixty-six millions sterling; instead of which there were 
 but twenty millions, which is forty-six millions below its pro- 
 portionate quantity. 
 
 AS the quantity of gold and silver imported into Lisbon an i 
 Cadiz is more easily ascertained than that of any commodity 'in- 
 ported into England; and as the /lantity of money coined at 
 the Tower of London is still more positively known, the leading 
 facts do not admit of a controversy. Either, therefore, the 
 commerce of England is unproductive of profit, or the gold 'and 
 silver which it brings in, leak continually away by unseen 
 means, at the average rate of about three-quarters of a million 
 a-year, which in the course of seventy-two years, accounts for 
 the deficiency; and its absence is suppled by paper. t 
 
 * Administration of the Finances of France, -ol. iii. 
 
 + Whether the English commerce does not bring in money, or whether \f 
 government sends it out after it is brought in, is a nr tier which the paities 
 concerned can best explain ; but that the deficiency exists is not in the power 
 of either to disprove. While Dr. Price, Mr. Eden (now Auckland), Mr. 
 Chalmers, and others, were debating whether the quantity of money waa 
 greater or less than at the revolution, the circumstance was not adverted to, 
 that since the revolution there cannot have been less than four hundred mil- 
 lions sterling imported into Europe ; and therefore the quantity in England 
 ou'/ht at least to have been four times greater than it was at the revolution, 
 U* be on a proportion with Europe. What England is now doing by papr,
 
 :;24 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 The revolution of France is attended with many novel cir- 
 cumstances, not only in the political sphere, but in the circle of 
 money transactions. Among others, it shows that a govern- 
 ment may be in a state of insolvency, and a nation rich. So 
 far as the fact is confined to the late government of France, it 
 was insolvent; because the nation would no longer support its 
 extravagance and therefore it could no longer suppport itself 
 but with respect to the nation all the means existed. A govern- 
 ment may be said to be insolvent every time it applies to a nation 
 to discharge its arrears. The insolvency of the late government 
 of France, and the present government of England, differed in no 
 other respect than as the disposition of the people differ. The 
 people of France refused their aid to the old government, and the 
 people of England submit to taxation without inquiry. What is 
 called the crbw^i in England has been insolvent several times; 
 the last of which, publicly known, was in May, 1777, when it 
 
 is what she should have been able to do by solid money, if sold and silver 
 had come into th nation in the proportion it ought, or had not been sent 
 out; and she is endeavoring to restore by paper the balance she has lost by 
 money. It is certain, that the gold and silver which arrive annually in the 
 register-ships to Spain and Portugal, do not remain in those countries. 
 Taking the value half in gold and half in silver, it is about four hundred tona 
 annually : and from the number of ships and galleons employed in the trade 
 of bringing those metals from South America to Portugal and Spain, the 
 quantity sufficiently proves itself, without referring to the registers. 
 
 In the situation England now is, it is impossible she can increase in money. 
 High taxes not only lessen the property of the individuals, but they lessen 
 also the money capital of the nation, by inducing smuggling, which can only 
 be carried on by gold and silver. By the politics which the British govern- 
 ment have carried on with the inland powers of Germany and the continent, 
 it has made an enemy of all the maritime powers, and is therefore obliged 
 to keep up a large navy : but though the navy is built in England, the naval 
 stores must be purchased from abroad, and that from countries where the 
 greatest part must be paid for in gold and silver. Some fallacious rumors 
 have been set afloat in England to induce a belief of money, and, among 
 others, that of the French refugees bringing great quantities. The idea if 
 ridiculous. The general part of the money in France is silver ; and it would 
 take upwards of twenty of the largest broad wheel wagons, with ten horse* 
 each, to remove one million sterling of silver. Is it then to be supposed, 
 that a few people fleeing on horseback or in post-chaises, in a secret manner, 
 and having the French custom-house to pass, and the sea to cross, could 
 bring even a sufficiency for their own expenses ? 
 
 When millions of money are spoken of, it should be recollected, that such 
 sums can only accumulate in a country by slow degrees, and a long proces- 
 sion of time. The most frugal system that England could now adopt, would 
 not recover in a century the balance she has lost in money since the com- 
 mencement of the Hanover succession. She is seventy millions behind 
 France, and she must be, in some considerable proportion, behind every 
 country in Europe, because the returns of the English mint do not show an 
 increase of money, while the registers of Lisbon and Cadiz show an European 
 increMe of between three and four hundred millions sterling.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 325 
 
 applied to the nation to discharge upwards of 600,000 private 
 debts, which otherwise it could not pay. 
 
 It was the error of Mr. Pitt, Mr. Burke, and all those who 
 were unacquainted with the affairs of France, to confound the 
 French nation with the French government. The French na- 
 tion, in effect, endeavored to render the late government insol- 
 vent, for the purpose of taking government into its own hands : 
 and it reserved its means for the support of the new govern- 
 ment. In a country of such vast extent and population as 
 France, the natural means cannot be wanting; and the political 
 means appear the instant the nation is disposed to permit them. 
 When Mr. Burke, in a speech last winter in the British parlia- 
 ment, cast his eyes over the map of Europe, and saw a chasm 
 that once was France, he talked like a dreamer of dreams. The 
 same natural France existed as before, and all the natural 
 means existed with it. The only chasm was that which the 
 extinction of despotism had left, and which was to be tilled up 
 with a constitution more formidable in resources than the power 
 which had expired. 
 
 Although the French nation rendered the late government 
 insolvent, it did not permit the insolvency to act towards the 
 creditors ; and the creditors considering the nation as the real 
 jjaymaster, and the government only as the agent, rested them- 
 selves on the nation in preference to the government. This 
 appears greatly to disturb Mr. Burke, as the precedent is fatal 
 to the policy by which governments have supposed themselves 
 secure. They have contracted debts, with a view of attaching 
 what is called the monied interest of a nation to their support; 
 but the example in France shows that the permanent security 
 of the creditor is in the nation, and not in the government; and 
 that in all possible revolutions that may happen in govern- 
 ments, the means are always with the nation, and the nation 
 always in existence. Mr. Burke argues that the creditors 
 ought to have abided the fate of the government which they 
 trusted; but the national assembly considered them as the 
 creditors of the nation, not of the government of the master, 
 and not of the steward. 
 
 Notwithstanding the late government could not discharge the 
 current expenses, the present government has paid off a great 
 part of the capital. This has been accomplished by two means, 
 the one by lessening the expenses of the government, and the 
 other by the sale of the monastic and ecclesiastical landed estate*.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 .The devotees and penitent debauchees, extortioners and misers 
 of former days, to ensure themselves a better world than that 
 they were about to leave, had bequeathed immense property in 
 trust to the priesthood for pious uses; and the priesthood kept 
 it for themselves. The national assembly has ordered it to be 
 sold for the good of the whole nation, and the priesthood to be 
 decently provided for. 
 
 In consequence of the revolution, the annual interest of the 
 debt of France will be reduced at least six millions sterling, by 
 paying off upwards of one hundred millions of the capital; 
 which, with lessening the former expenses of government at 
 least three millions, will place France in a situation worthy the 
 imitation of Europe. 
 
 Upon a whole review of the subject, how vast is the contrast ! 
 While Mr. Burke has been talking of a general bankruptcy in 
 France, the national assembly have been paying off the capital 
 of the national debt; and while taxes have increased nearly a 
 million a-year in England, they have lowered several millions 
 a-year in France. Not a word has either Mr. Burke or Mr. 
 Pitt said about French affairs, or the state of the French finan- 
 ces, in the present session of parliament. The subject begins to 
 be too well understood, and imposition serves no longer. 
 
 There is a general enigma running through the whole of Mr. 
 Burke's book. He writes in a rage against the national as- 
 sembly : but what is he enraged about 1 If his assertions were 
 as true as they are groundless, and if France, by her revolution, 
 had annihilated her power, and become what he calls a chasm, 
 it might excite the grief of a Frenchman (considering himself 
 as a national man), and provoke his rage against the national 
 assembly; but why should' it excite the rage of Mr. Burke 1 
 Alas ! It is not the nation of France that Mr. Burke means, 
 but the court; and every court in Europe, dreading the same 
 fate, is in mourning. He writes neither in the character of a 
 Frenchman nor an Englishman, but in the fawning character 
 of that creature, known in all countries, as a friend to none, a 
 courtier. Whether it be the court of Versailles, or the court 
 of St. James, or of Carlton House, or the court in expectation, 
 signifies not; for the caterpillar principles of all courts and cour- 
 tiers are alike. They form a common policy throughout Eu- 
 rope, detached and separate from the interest of the nations, 
 and while they appear to quarrel, they agree to plunder. No- 
 thing can be more terrible to a court or courtier, then th
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 327 
 
 revolution of France. That which is a blessing to nations is 
 bitterness to them; and as their existence depends on the du 
 plicity of a country, they tremble at the approach of principle 
 and dread the precedent that threatens their overthrow. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 REASON and ignorance, the opposites of each other, influence 
 the great bulk of mankind. If either of these can be rendered 
 sufficiently extensive in a country, the machinery of govern- 
 ment goes easily on. Reason shows itself, and ignorance sub- 
 mits to whatever is dictated to it. 
 
 The two modes of government which prevail in the world, 
 are, 1st, government by election and representation; 2d, govern- 
 ment by hereditary succession. The former is generally known 
 by the name of republic; the latter by that of monarchy and 
 aristocracy. 
 
 Those two distinct and opposite forms erect themselves on 
 the two distinct and opposite bases of reason and ignorance. 
 As the exercise of government requires talents and abilities, 
 and as talents and abilities cannot have hereditary descent, 
 it is evident that hereditary succession requires a belief from 
 man, to which his reason cannot subscribe, and which can only 
 be established upon his ignorance; and themore ignorant any 
 country is, the better it is fitted for the species of government. 
 
 On the contrary, government in a well constituted republic 
 requires no belief from man beyond what his reason authorizes. 
 He sees the rationale of the whole system, its origin, and its 
 operation ; and as it is best supported when best understood, the 
 human faculties act with boldness, and acquire, under this 
 form of government, a gigantic manliness. 
 
 As, therefore, each of those forms acts on a different basis, the 
 one moving freely by the aid of reason, the other by ignorance , 
 we have next to consider, what it is that gives motion to that 
 species of government which is called mixed government, or, as 
 it is sometimes ludicrously styled, a government of this, that, 
 and t'other. 
 
 The moving power in this species of government is, ot neces- 
 sity, corruption. However imperfect election and representation 
 may be in mixed governments, they still give exertion to a
 
 328 RIGHTS OF MAN; 
 
 greater portion of reason than is convenient to the hereditary 
 part ; and therefore it becomes necessary to buy the reason up. 
 A mixed government is an imperfect every-thing, cementing and 
 soldering the discordant parts together, by corruption, to act as 
 a whole. Mr. Burke appears highly disgusted, that France, 
 since she had resolved on a revolution, did not adopt what he 
 calls "a British constitution ;" and the regret which he expresses 
 on this occasion, implies a suspicion, that the British constitu- 
 tion needed something to keep its defects in countenance. 
 
 In mixed governments, there is no responsibility ; the parts 
 cover each other till responsibility is lost; and the corruption 
 which moves the machine contrives at the same time its own 
 escape. When it is laid down as a maxim that a king can do 
 no wrong, it places him in a state of similar security with that 
 of idiots and persons insane, and responsibility is out of the 
 question, with respect to himself. It then descends upon the 
 minister, who shelters himself under a majority in parliament, 
 which, by places, pensions, and corruption, he can always com- 
 mand : and that majority justifies itself by the same authority 
 with which it protects the minister. In this rotatory motion, 
 responsibility is thrown off from the parts, and from the whole. 
 
 When there is a part in a government which can do no wrong, 
 it implies that it does nothing; and is only the machine of 
 another power, by whose advice and direction it acts. What is 
 supposed to be the king, in mixed governments, is the cabinet ; 
 and as the cabinet is always a part of the parliament, and the 
 members justifying in one character what they act in another, 
 a mixed government becomes a continual enigma; entailing upon 
 a country, by the quantity of corruption necessary to solder the 
 parts, the expense of supporting all the forms of government at 
 once, and finally resolving itself into a government by com- 
 mittee; in which the advisers, the actors, the approvers, the 
 justifiers, the persons responsible, and the persons not responsi- 
 ble, are the same person. 
 
 By this pantomimical contrivance, and change of scene and 
 character, the parts help each other out in matters, which, nei- 
 ther of them singly, would presume to act. When money is to 
 be obtained, them ass of variety apparently dissolves, and a pro- 
 fusion of parliamentary praises passes between the parts. Each 
 admires, with astonishment, the wisdom, the liberality and disin- 
 terestedness of the other ; and all of them breathe a pitying sigh 
 at the burdens of the nation.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 But in a well-conditioned republic, nothing of this soldering, 
 praising and pitying, can take place ; the representation being 
 equal throughout the country, and complete in itself, however it 
 may be arranged into legislative and executive, they have all 
 one and the same natural source. The parts are not foreigners 
 to each other, like democracy, aristocracy, and monarchy. As 
 there are no discordant distinctions, there is nothing to corrupt 
 by compromise, nor confound by contrivance. Public measures 
 appeal of themselves to the understanding of the nation, and, 
 resting on their own merits, disown any flattering application to 
 vanity. The continual whine of lamenting the burden of taxes, 
 however successfully it may be practised in mixed governments, 
 is inconsistent with the sense and spirit of a republic. If taxes 
 are necessary, they are of course advantageous; and if they 
 require an apology, the apology itself implies an impeachment 
 Why then is man thus imposed upon, or why does he impose 
 upon himself. 
 
 When men are spoken of as kings and subjects, or when 
 government is mentioned under distinct or combined heads of 
 monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy, what is it that reasoning 
 man is to understand by the terms'? If there really existed in 
 the world two more distinct and separate elements of human 
 power, we should then see the several origins to which those 
 terms would descriptively apply ; but as there is but one species 
 of man, there can be but one element of human power, and that 
 element is man himself. Monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy 
 are but creatures of imagination ; and a thousand such may be 
 contrived as well as three. 
 
 FROM the revolutions of America and France, and the symp- 
 toms that have appeared in other countries, it is evident that 
 the opinion of the world is changing with respect to systems of 
 government, and that revolutions are not within the compass of 
 political calculations. The progress of time and circumstances, 
 which men assign to the accomplishment of great changes, is 
 too mechanical to measure the force of the mind, and the rapi- 
 dity of reflection, by which revolutions are generated ; all the 
 old governments have received a shock from those that already 
 appear, and which were once more improbable, and are a greater 
 subject of wonder, than a general revolution in Europe would be
 
 3.>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 
 <lo\vn to rest and culled it peace This certainly is not the con- 
 dition that heaven intended for man; and if this be monarchy, 
 well might monarchy be reckoned among the sins of the Jews. 
 The revolutions which formerly took place in the world, had 
 nothing in them that interested the bulk of mankind. They 
 x tended only to a change of persons and measures, but not of 
 principles, and rose or fell among the common transactions of 
 the moment. What we now behold, may not improperly be 
 i ailed a "counter revolution" Conquest and tyranny, at some 
 -arly period, dispossessed man of his rights, and he is now re- 
 covering them. And as the tide of human affairs has its ebb 
 and flow in directions contrary to each other, so also is it in 
 this. Government founded on a moral theory, on a system of 
 universal peace, on the indefeasible, hereditary rights of man, is 
 now revolving from west to east by a stronger impulse than the 
 government of the sword revolved from east to west. It in- 
 terests not particular individuals but nations in its progress, 
 and promises a new era to the human race. 
 
 The danger to which the success of revolutions is most ex
 
 348 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 posed, is that of attempting them before the principles on which 
 they proceed, and the advantages to result from them, are suf- 
 ficiently understood. Almost everything appertaining to the 
 circumstances of a nation has been absorbed and confounded 
 under the general and mysterious word government. Though 
 it avoids taking to its account the errors it commits, and the 
 mischiefs it occasions, it fails not to arrogate to itself whatever 
 has the appearance of prosperity. It robs industry of its honors, 
 by pedantically making itself the cause of its effects ; and pur- 
 loins from the general character of man the merits that apper- 
 tain to him as a social being. 
 
 It may therefore be of use in this day of revolutions, to dis- 
 criminate between those things which are the effect of govern- 
 ment, and those which are not. This will best be done by 
 taking a review of society and civilization, and the consequences 
 resulting therefrom, as things distinct from what are called 
 governments. By beginning with this investigation, we shall 
 be able to assign effects to their proper causes, and analyze the 
 mass of common errors. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 OF SOCIETY AND CIVILIZATION. 
 
 A GREAT part of that order which reigns among mankind is 
 not the effect of government. It had its origin in the principles 
 of society, and the natural constitution of man. It existed 
 prior to government, and would exist if the formality of govern- 
 ment was abolished. The mutual dependence and reciprocal 
 interest which man has in man, and all the parts of a civilized 
 community upon each other, create that great chain of connex- 
 ion which holds it together. The landholder, the farmer, the 
 manufacturer, the merchant, the tradesman, and every occupa- 
 tion prospers by the aid which each receives from the other, and 
 from the whole. Common interest regulates their concerns, 
 and forms their laws; and the laws which common usage 
 ordains, have a greater influence than the laws of government. 
 In fine, society performs for itself almost everything which is 
 ascribed to government. 
 
 To understand the nature and quantity of government proper 
 for man, 't is necessary to attend to his character As nature
 
 BIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 created him for social life, she fitted him for the station she 
 intended. In all cases she made his natural wants greater than 
 his individual powers. No one man is capable, without the aid 
 of society, of supplying his own wants; and those wants acting 
 upon every individual, impel the whole of them into society, aa 
 naturally as gravitation acts to a centre. 
 
 But she has gone further. She has not only forced man into 
 society by a diversity of wants, which the reciprocal aid of 
 each other can supply, but she has implanted in him a system 
 of social affections, which, though not necessary to his exis- 
 tence, are essential to his happiness. There is no period in life 
 when this love for society ceases to act. It begins and ends 
 with our being. 
 
 If we examine, with attention, into the composition and con- 
 stitution of man, the diversity of talents in different men for 
 reciprocally accommodating the wants of each other, his pro- 
 pensity to society, and consequently to preserve the advantages 
 resulting from it, we shall easily discover that a great part of 
 what is called government is mere imposition. 
 
 Government is no further necessary than to supply the few 
 cases to which society and civilization are not conveniently 
 competent; and instances are not wanting to show that every- 
 thing which government can usefully add thereto, has been 
 performed by the common consent of society, without govern- 
 ment 
 
 For upwards of two years from the commencement of the 
 American war, and a longer period in several of the American 
 states, there were no established forms of government. The 
 old governments had been abolished, and the ccumtry was too 
 much occupied in defence to employ its attention in establish- 
 ing new governments; yet, during this interval, order and har- 
 mony were preserved as inviolate as in any country in Europe. 
 There is a natural aptness in man, and more so in society, be- 
 cause it embraces a greater variety of abilities and resources, to 
 accommodate itself to whatever situation it is in. The instant 
 formal government is abolished, society begins to act. A gen- 
 eral association takes place, and common interest produces com- 
 mon security. 
 
 So far is it from being true, as has been pretended, that the 
 abolition of any formal government is t the dissolution of society, 
 it acts by a contrary impulse, and brings the latter the closer 
 together. All that part of its organization which it had com-
 
 350 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 mitted to its government, devolves again upon itself, and acts 
 through its medium. When men, as well from natural instinct 
 as from reciprocal benefits, have habituated themselves to social 
 and civilized life, there is always enough of its principles in 
 practice to carry them through any changes they may find ne- 
 cessary or convenient to make in their government In short, 
 man is so naturally a creature of society, that it is almost im- 
 possible to put him out of it. 
 
 Formal government makes but a small part of civilized life ; 
 and when even the best that human wisdom can devise is estab- 
 lished, it is a thing more in name and idea than in fact. It is 
 to the great and fundamental principles of society and civiliza- 
 tion to the common usage universally consented to, and mutu- 
 ally and reciprocally maintained to the unceasing circulation 
 of interest, which passing through its innumerable channels, 
 invigorates the whole mass of civilized man it is to these 
 things, infinitely more than anything which even the best insti- 
 tuted government can perform, that the safety and prosperity 
 of the individual and of the whole depends. 
 
 The more perfect civilization is, the less occasion has it for 
 government, because the more does it regulate its own affairs, 
 and govern itself; but so contrary is the practice of old govern- 
 ments to the reason of the case, that the expenses of them in- 
 crease in the proportion they ought to diminish. It is but few 
 general laws that civilized life requires, and those of such com- 
 mon usefulness, that whether they are enforced by the forms of 
 government or not, the effect will be nearly the same. If we 
 consider what the principles are that first condense man into 
 society, and what the motives that regulate their mutual inter- 
 course afterwards, we shall find, by the time we arrive at what 
 is called government, that nearly the whole of the business 
 is performed by the natural operation of the parts upon each 
 other. 
 
 Man, with respect to all those matters, is more a creature of 
 consistency than he is aware of, or than governments would 
 wish him to believe. All the great laws of society are laws of 
 nature. Those of trade and commerce, whether with respect to 
 the intercourse of individuals or of nations, are laws of mutual 
 and reciprocal interest. They are followed and obeyed because 
 it is the interest of the pajties so to do, and not on account of 
 any formal laws their governments may impose or interpose. 
 
 But how often is the natural propensity to society disturbed
 
 BIGHTS OF MAN. 351 
 
 or destroyed by the operations ot government ! When the 
 latter, instead of being engrafted on the principles of the for- 
 mer, assumes to exist for itself, and acts by partialities of favor 
 and oppression, it becomes the cause of the mischiefs it ought 
 to prevent. 
 
 If we look back to the riots and tumults which at various 
 times have happened in England, we shall find, that they did 
 not proceed from the want of a government, but that goveri* 
 ment was itself the generating cause; instead of consolidating 
 society, it divided it; it deprived it of its natural cohesion, and 
 engendered discontents and disorders, which otherwise would 
 not have existed. In those associations which men promiscu- 
 ously form for the purpose of trade, or of any concern, in which 
 government is totally out of the question, and in which they act 
 merely on the principles of society, we see how naturally the 
 various parties unite ; and this shows, by comparison, that gov- 
 ernments, so far from being always the cause or means of order, 
 are often the destruction of it. The riots of 1780 had no other 
 source than the remains of those prejudices, which the govern- 
 ment itself had encouraged. But with respect to England there 
 are also other causes. 
 
 Excess and inequality of taxation, however disguised in the 
 means, never fail to appear in their effect. As a great mass of 
 the community are thrown thereby into poverty and discontent, 
 they are constantly on the brink of commotion ; and, deprived, 
 as they unfortunately are, of the means of information, are 
 easily heated to outrage. Whatever- the apparent cause of any 
 riots may be, the real one is always want of happiness. It 
 shows that something is wrong in the system of government, 
 that injures the felicity by which society is to be preserved. 
 
 But as fact is superior to reasoning, the instance of America 
 presents itself to confirm these observations. If there is a 
 country in the world, where concord, according to common cal- 
 culation, would be least expected, it is America. Made up, as 
 it is, of people from different nations,* accustomed to different 
 
 * That part of America which is generally called New England, including 
 New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut, is peopled 
 chiefly by English descendants. In the state of New York about half are 
 Dutch, the rest English, Scotch, and Irish. In New Jersey a mixture of 
 English and Dutch, with some Scotch and Irish. In Pennsylvania about 
 one-third are English, another Germans, and the remainder Scotch and 
 Irish, with some Swedes. The states to the southward have a greater pro- 
 portion of English than the middle states, but in all of them there is a mix- 
 tur; and beaidM those enumerated, there are a considerable number of
 
 352 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 forms and habits of government, speaking different languages, 
 and more different in their modes of worship, it would appear 
 that the union of such a people was impracticable; but by the 
 simple operation of constructing government on the principles 
 of society and the rights of man, every difficulty retires, and all 
 the parts are brought into cordial unison. There the poor are 
 not oppressed, the rich are not privileged. Industry is not 
 mortified by the splendid extravagance of a court rioting at its 
 expense. Their taxes are few, because their government is 
 just; and as there is nothing to render them wretched, there is 
 nothing to engender riots and tumults. 
 
 A metaphysical man, like Mr. Burke, would have tortured 
 his invention to discover how such a people could be governed. 
 He would have supposed that some must be managed by fraud, 
 others by force, and all by some contrivance; that genius must 
 be hired to impose upon ignorance, and show and parade to fas- 
 cinate the vulgar. Lost in the abundance of his researches, ha 
 would have resolved and re-resolved, and finally overlooked the 
 plain and easy road that lay directly before him. 
 
 One of the great advantages of the American revolution ha.:; 
 been, that it led to a discovery of the principles, and laid open 
 the imposition of governments. All the revolutions till then 
 had been worked within the atmosphere of a court, and never 
 on the great floor of a nation. The parties were always of the 
 class of courtiers; and whatever was their rage for reformation, 
 they carefully preserved the fraud of the profession. 
 
 In all cases they took care to represent government as a 
 thing made up of mysteries, which only themselves understood; 
 and they hid from the understanding of the nation, the only 
 thing that was beneficial to know, namely, that government is 
 nothing more titan a national association acting on the principles 
 of society. 
 
 Having thus endeavored to show, that the social and civilized 
 state of man is capable of performing within itself, almost 
 everything necessary to its protection and government, it will 
 be proper, on the other hand, to take a review of the present 
 old governments, and examine whether their principles and 
 practice are correspondent thereto. 
 
 French, and some few of all the European nations lying on the coast. The 
 most numerous religious denomination are the Presbyterians ; but no ona 
 act is established above another, and all men are equally citizens.
 
 BIGHTS OF MAN. 353 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 ON THE ORIGIN OF THE PRESENT OLD GOVERNMENTS. 
 
 IT is impossible that such governments as have hitherto ex 
 isted in the world, could have commenced by any other meant 
 than a total violation of every principle, sacred and moral. 
 The obscurity in which the origin of all the present old govern 
 ments, is buried, implies the iniquity and disgrace with which 
 they began. The origin of the present governments of America 
 and France will ever be remembered, because it is honorable to 
 record it; but with respect to the rest, even flattery has con- 
 signed them to the tomb of time, without an inscription. 
 
 It could have been no difficult thing in the early and solitary 
 ages of the world, while the chief employment of men was that 
 of attending flocks and herds, for a banditti of ruffians to over- 
 run a country, and lay it under contribution. Their power 
 being thus established, the chief of the band contrived to lose 
 the name of robber in that of monarch; and hence the origin of 
 monarchy and kings. 
 
 The origin of the government of England, so far as it relates 
 to what is called its line of monarchy, being one of the latest, 
 is perhaps the best recorded. The hatred which the Norman 
 invasion and tyranny begat, must have been deeply rooted in 
 the nation, to have outlived the contrivance to obliterate it. 
 Though not a courtier will talk of the curfew-bell, not a village 
 in England has forgotten it. 
 
 Those bands of robbers having parcelled out the world, and 
 divided it into dominions, began, as is naturally the case, to 
 quarrel with each other. What at first was obtained by vio- 
 lence, was considered by others as lawful to be taken, and a 
 second plunderer succeeded the first. They alternately invaded 
 the dominions which each had assigned to himself, and the 
 brutality with which they treated each other explains the origi- 
 nal character of monarchy. It was ruffian torturing ruffian. 
 The conqueror considered the conquered not as his prisoner, 
 but his property. He led him in triumph rattling in chains, 
 and doomed him, at pleasure, to slavery or death. As time 
 obliterated the history of their beginning, their successors as- 
 sumed new appearances, to cut off the entail of their disgrace, 
 23
 
 354 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 but their principles and objects remained the same. What at 
 first was plunder assumed the softer name of revenue; and the 
 power they originally usurped, they affected to inherit 
 
 From such beginning of governments, what could be ex- 
 pected, but a continual system of war and extortion ? It has 
 established itself into a trade. The vice is not peculiar to one 
 more than to another, but is the common principle of all. 
 There does not exist within such governments a stamina where- 
 on to ingraft reformation ; and the shortest and most effectual 
 remedy is to begin anew. 
 
 What scenes of horror, what perfection of iniquity, present 
 themselves in contemplating the character, and reviewing the 
 history of such governments ! If we would delineate human 
 nature with a baseness of heart, and hypocrisy of countenance, 
 that reflection would shudder at and humanity disown, it is 
 kings, courts, and cabinets, that must sit for the portrait. Man, 
 as he is naturally, with all his faults about him, is not up to the 
 character. 
 
 Can we possibly suppose that if government had originated 
 in a right principle, and had not an interest in pursuing a 
 wrong one, that the world could have been in the wretched and 
 quarrelsome condition we have seen it 1 What inducement has 
 the farmer, while following the plow, to lay aside his peaceful 
 pursuits and go to war with the farmer of another country ? 
 Or what inducement has the manufacturer ? What is domin- 
 ion to them, or to any class of men in a nation ? Does it add 
 an acre to any man's estate, or raise its value ? Are not con- 
 quest and defeat each of the same price, and taxes the never- 
 failing consequence ? Though this reasoning may be good to a 
 nation, it is not so to a government. War is the faro-table of 
 governments, and nations the dupes of the game. 
 
 If there is anything to wonder at in this miserable scene of 
 governments, more than might be expected, it is the progress 
 which the peaceful arts of agriculture, manufactures, and com- 
 merce have made, beneath such a long accumulating load of 
 discouragement and oppression. It serves to show that in- 
 stinct in animals does not act with stronger impulse than the 
 principles of society and civilization operate in man. Under 
 all discouragements, he pursues his object, and yields to no- 
 thing but impossibilities.
 
 EIGHTS OF MAN. 355 
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 OF THE OLD AND NEW SYSTEMS OF GOVERNMENT. 
 
 NOTHING can appear more contradictory than the principles 
 on which the old governments began, and the condition to 
 which society, civilization, and commerce are capable of carry- 
 ing mankind. Government, on the old system, is an assump- 
 tion of power, for the aggrandizement of itself; on the new, a 
 delegation of power for the common benefit of society. The 
 former supports itself by keeping up a system of war; the 
 latter promotes a system of peace, as the true means of enrich- 
 ing a nation. The one encourages national prejudices; the 
 other promotes universal society as the means of universal 
 commerce. The one measures its prosperity by the quantity 
 of revenue it extorts; the other pYoves its excellence, by the 
 small quantity of taxes it requires. 
 
 Mr. Burke has talked of old and new whigs. If he can 
 amuse himself with childish names and distinctions, I shall 
 not interrupt his pleasure. It is not to him, but to the Abbe 
 Sieyes, that I address this chapter. I am already engaged to 
 the latter gentleman to discuss the subject of monarchical gov- 
 ernment; and as it naturally occurs in comparing the old and 
 new systems, I make this the opportunity of presenting to him 
 my observations. I shall occasionally take Mr. Burke in my 
 way. 
 
 Though it might be proved that the system of government 
 now called the new, is the most ancient in principle of all that 
 have existed, being founded on the original inherent rights of 
 man: yet, as tyranny and the sword have suspended the exer- 
 cise of those rights for many centuries past, it serves better the 
 purpose of distinction to call it the new, than to claim the right 
 of calling it the old. 
 
 The first general distinction between those two systems, is, 
 that the one now called the old is hereditary, either in whole 
 or in part; and the new is entirely representative. It rejects 
 all hereditary government: 
 
 1st, As being an imposition on mankind. 
 2nd, As inadequate to the purposes for which government u 
 necessary.
 
 356 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 With respect to the first of these heads It cannot be proved 
 by what right hereditary government could begin: neither does 
 there exis* within the compass of mortal power, a right to 
 establish it. Man has no authority over posterity in matters 
 of personal right ; and, therefore, no man, or body of men, had, 
 or can have, a right to set up hereditary government. Were 
 even ourselves to come again into existence, instead of being 
 succeeded by posterity, we have not now the right of taking 
 from ourselves the rights which would then be ours. On what 
 ground, then, do we pretend to take them from others ? 
 
 All hereditary government is in its nature tyranny. An 
 heritable crown, or an heritable throne, or by what other fanci- 
 ful name such things may be called, have no other significant 
 explanation than that mankind are heritable property. To in- 
 herit a government, is to inherit the people, as if they were 
 flocks and herds. 
 
 With respect to the second head, that of being inadequate 
 to the purposes for which tgovernment is necessary, we have 
 only to consider what government essentially is, and compare 
 it with the circumstances to which hereditary government is 
 subject. 
 
 Government ought to be a thing always in full maturity. It 
 ought to be so constructed as to be superior to all the accidents 
 to which individual man is subject; and, therefore, hereditary 
 succession, by being subject to them all, is the most irregular 
 and imperfect of all the systems of government. 
 
 We have heard the rights of man called a levelling system; 
 but the only system to which the word levelling is truly applic- 
 able, is the hereditary monarchical system. It is a system of 
 mental levelling. It indiscriminately admits every species of 
 character to the same authority. Vice and virtue, ignorance 
 and wisdom, in short, every quality, good or bad, is put on the 
 same level. Kings succeed each other, not as rationals, but as 
 animals. Can we then be surprised at the abject state of the 
 human mind in monarchical countries, when the government it- 
 self is formed on such an abject levelling system ? It has no 
 fixed character. To-day it is one thing; and to-morrow it is 
 something else. It changes with the temper of every succeed- 
 ing individual, and is subject to all the varieties of each. It is 
 government through the medium of passions and accidents. It 
 appears under all the various characters of childhood, decrepi- 
 tude, dotage, a thing at nurse, in leading strings, and on crutches.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 357 
 
 It reverses the wholesome order of nature. It occasionally puts 
 children over men, and the conceits of non-age over wisdom 
 and experience. In short, we cannot conceive a more ridicul- 
 ous figure of government, than hereditary succession, in all its 
 cases, presents. 
 
 Could it be made a decree in nature, or an edict registered 
 in heaven, and man could know it, that virtue and wisdom 
 should invariably appertain to hereditary succession, the objec- 
 tions to it would be removed; but when we see that nature 
 acts as if she disowned and sported with the hereditary system ; 
 that the mental characters of successors, in all countries, are 
 below the average of human understanding; that one is a 
 tyrant, another an idiot, a third insane, and some all three 
 together, it is impossible to attach confidence to it, when 
 reason in man has power to act. 
 
 It is not to the Abbe Sieyes that I need apply this reasoning ; 
 he has already saved me that trouble by giving his own opinion 
 on the case. "If it be asked," says he, "what is my opinion 
 with respect to hereditary right, I answer, without hesitation, 
 that, in good theory, an hereditary transmission of any power 
 or office, can never accord with the laws of true representation. 
 Hereditaryship is, in this sense, as much an attaint upon prin- 
 ciple, as an outrage upon society. But let us," continues he, 
 " refer to the history of all elective monarchies and principali- 
 ties ; is there one in which the elective mode is not worse than 
 the hereditary succession. 
 
 As to debating on which is the worst of the two, it is admit- 
 ting both to be bad ; and herein we are agreed. The preference 
 which the abbe has given, is a condemnation of the thing he 
 prefers. Such a mode of reasoning on such a subject is inad- 
 missible, because it finally amounts to an accusation of provi- 
 \ence, as if she had left to man no other choice with respect 
 to government, than between two evils, the best of which he 
 admits to be, "an attaint upon principle, and an outrag* upon 
 society." 
 
 Passing over, for the present, all the evils and miwhiefs 
 which monarchy has occasioned in the world, nothing can more 
 effectually prove its uselessness in a state of civil government, 
 than making it hereditary. Would we make any office heredi- 
 tary that required wisdom and abilities to fill it? And where 
 wisdom and abilities are not necessary, such an office, whatever 
 it may be, is superfluous or insignificant.
 
 BIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 Hereditary succession is a burlesque upon monarchy. It 
 puts it in the most ridiculous light, by presenting it as an office 
 which any child or idiot may fill. It requires some talents to 
 be a common mechanic; but to be a king, requires only the 
 animal figure of a man a sort of breathing automaton. This 
 sort of superstition may last a few years more, but it cannot 
 long resist the awakened reason and interest of man. 
 
 As to Mr. Burke, he is a stickler for monarchy, not alto- 
 gether as a pensioner, if he is one, which I believe, but as a 
 political man. He has taken up a contemptible opinion of 
 mankind, who, in their turn, are taking up the same of him. 
 He considers them as a herd of beings that must be governed 
 by fraud, effigy, and show; and an idol would be as good a 
 6gure of monarchy with him, as a man. I will, however, do 
 him the justice to say, that, with respect to America, he has 
 been very complimentary. He always contended, at least in 
 ray hearing, that the people of America were more enlightened 
 than those of England, or of any country in Europe ; and that 
 therefore the imposition of show was not necessary in their 
 governments. 
 
 Though the comparison between hereditary and elective 
 monarchy, which the abbe had made, is unnecessary to the 
 case, because the representative system rejects both ; yet were 
 I to make the comparison, I should decide contrary to what 
 he has done. 
 
 The civil wars which have originated from contested here- 
 ditary claims, are more numerous, and have been more dread- 
 ful, and of longer continuance, than those which have been 
 occasioned by election. All the civil wars in France arose 
 from the hereditary system ; they were either produced by 
 hereditary claims, or by the imperfection of the hereditary 
 form, which admits of regencies, or monarchy at nurse. With 
 respect to England, its history is full of the same misfortunes. 
 The contests for succession between the houses of York and 
 Lancaster lasted a whole century ; and others of a similar 
 nature have renewed themselves since that period. Those of 
 1715 and 1745 were of the same kind. The succession- war for 
 the crown of Spain embroiled almost half of Europe. The dis- 
 turbances in Holland are generated from the hereditary ship of 
 the stadtholder. A government calling itself free, with an 
 hereditary office, is like a thorn in the flesh, that produces a 
 fermentation which endeavors to discharge it.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAX. 359 
 
 But I might go further, and place also foreign wars, of what- 
 ever kind, to the same cause. It is by adding the evil of here- 
 ditary succession to that of monarchy, that a permanent family 
 interest is created, whose constant objects are dominion and 
 revenue. Poland, though an elective monarchy, has had fewer 
 wars than those which are hereditary ; and it is the only govern- 
 ment that has made a voluntary essay, though but a small one, 
 to reform the condition of the country. 
 
 Having thus glanced at a few of the defects of the old, or 
 hereditary systems of government, let us compare it with the 
 new or representative system. 
 
 The representative system takes society and civilization for 
 its basis; nature, reason, and experience for its guide. 
 
 Experience, in all ages, and in all countries, has demonstrated 
 that it is impossible to control nature in her distribution of 
 mental powers. She gives them as she pleases. Whatever is 
 the rule by which she, apparently to us, scatters them among 
 mankind, that rule remains a secret to man. It would be as 
 ridiculous to attempt to fix the hereditaryship of human beauty, 
 as of wisdom. 
 
 Whatever wisdom constituently is, it is like a seedless plant ; 
 it may be reared when it appears ; but it cannot be voluntarily 
 produced. There is always a sufficiency somewhere in the 
 general mass of society for all purposes; but with respect to 
 the parts of society, it is continually changing its place. It 
 rises in one to-day, in another to-morrow, and has most prob- 
 ably visited in rotation every family of the earth, and again 
 withdrawn. 
 
 As this is the order of nature, the order of government must 
 necessarily follow it, or government will, as we see it does, 
 degenerate into ignorance. The hereditary system, therefore, 
 is as repugnant to human wisdom as to human rights; and is 
 as absurd as it is unjust. 
 
 As the republic of letters brings forward the best literary 
 productions, by giving to genius a fair and universal chance; 
 so the representative system of government is calculated to 
 produce the wisest laws, by collecting wisdom where it can be 
 found. I smile to myself when I contemplate the ridiculous 
 insignificance into which literature and all the sciences would 
 sink, were they made hereditary; and I carry the same idea 
 into governments. An hereditary governor is as inconsistent 
 as an hereditary author. I know not whether Homer or
 
 360 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 Euclid had sons; but I will venture an opinion, that if they 
 had, and had left their works unfinished, those sons could not 
 have completed them. 
 
 Do we need a stronger evidence of the absurdity of hereditary 
 government, than is seen in the descendants of those men, in 
 any line of life, who were once famous! Is there scarcely an 
 instance in which there is not a total reverse of the character? 
 It appears as if the tide of mental faculties flowed as far as it 
 could in certain channels, and then forsook its course, and arose 
 in others. How irrational then is the hereditary system which 
 establishes channels of power, in company with which wisdom 
 refuses to flow ! By continuing this absurdity, man is in per- 
 petual contradiction with himself; he accepts, for a king, or a 
 chief magistrate, or a legislator, a person whom he would not 
 elect for a constable. 
 
 It appears to general observation, that revolutions create 
 genius and talents; but those events do no more than bring 
 them forward. There exists in man, a mass of sense lying in a 
 dormant state, and which, unless something excites it to action, 
 will descend with him, in that condition, to the grave. As it 
 is to the advantage of society that the whole of its faculties 
 should be employed, the construction of government ought to 
 be such as to bring forward, by a quiet and regular operation, 
 all that extent of capacity which never fails to appear in revo- 
 lutions. 
 
 This cannot take place in the insipid state of hereditary gov- 
 ernment, not only because it prevents, but because it operates 
 to benumb. When the mind of a nation is bowed down by any 
 political superstition in its government, such as hereditary 
 succession is, it loses a considerable portion of its powers on all 
 other subjects and objects. Hereditary succession requires the 
 same obedience to ignorance, as to wisdom ; and when once the 
 mind can bring itself to pay this indiscriminate reverence, it 
 descends below the stature of mental manhood. It is fit to be 
 great only in little things. It acts a treachery upon itself, and 
 suffocates the sensations that urge to detection. 
 
 Though the ancient governments present to us a miserable 
 picture of the condition of man, there is one which above all 
 others exempts itself from the general description. I mean the 
 democracy of the Athenians. We see more to admire and less 
 to condemn, in that great, extraordinary people, than in any 
 thing which history affords.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 361 
 
 Mr. Burke is so little acquainted with constituent principles 
 of government, that he confounds democracy and representation 
 together. Representation was a thing unknown in the ancient 
 democracies. In thdse the mass of the people met and enacted 
 laws (grammatically speaking) in the first person. Simple 
 democracy was no other than the common hall of the ancients. 
 It signifies the form as well as the public principle of the gov- 
 ernment. As these democracies increased in population, and the 
 territory extended, the simple democratical form became un- 
 wiedly and impracticable ; and as the system of representation 
 was not known, the consequence was, they either degenerated 
 convulsively into monarchies, or became absorbed into such as 
 then existed. Had the system of representation been then un- 
 derstood, as it now is, there is no reason to believe that those 
 forms of government, now called monarchical or aristocratical, 
 would ever have taken place. It was the want of some method 
 to consolidate the parts of society, after it became too populous, 
 and too extensive for the simple democratical form, and also the 
 lax and solitary condition of shepherds and herdsmen in other 
 parts of the world, that afforded opportunities to those unnatural 
 modes of government to begin. 
 
 As it is necessary to clear away the rubbish of errors, into 
 which the subject of government has been thrown, I shall pro- 
 ceed to remark on some others. 
 
 It has always been the political craft of courtiers and court 
 governments, to abuse something which they called republican- 
 ism ; but what republicanism was, or is, they never attempt to 
 explain. Let us examine a little into this case. 
 
 The only forms of government are, the democratical, the 
 aristocratical, the monarchical, aud what is now called the 
 representative. 
 
 What is called a republic, is not any particular form of gov- 
 ernment. It is wholly characteristi cal of the purport, matter, 
 or object for which government ought to be instituted, and on 
 which it is to be employed, res-publica, the public affairs, or the 
 public good; or, literally translated, the public thing. It is a 
 word of a good original, referring to what ought to be the 
 character and business of government; and in this sense it is 
 naturally opposed to the word monarchy, which has a base 
 original signification. It means arbitrary power in an indivi- 
 dual person ; in the exercise of which, himself, and not the ret 
 publica, is the object.
 
 362 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 Every government that does not act on the principle of a 
 republic, or, in other words, that does not make the res-publica 
 its whole and sole object, is not a good government. Repub- 
 lican government is no other than government established and 
 conducted for the interest of the public, as well individually as 
 collectively. It is not necessarily connected with any particular 
 form, Out it most naturally associates with the representative 
 form, as being best calculated to secure the end for which a 
 nation is at the expense of supporting it. 
 
 Various forms of government have effected to style themselves 
 republics. Poland calls itself a republic, but is in fact an 
 hereditary aristocracy, with what is called an elective monarchy. 
 Holland calls itself a republic, which is chiefly aristocratical, 
 with an hereditary stadtholdership. But the government of 
 America, which is wholly on the system of representation, is the 
 only real republic in character and practice, that now exists. 
 Its government has no other object than the public business of 
 the nation, and therefore it is properly a republic ; and the 
 Americans have taken care 'that this, and no other, shall be the 
 object of their government, by their rejecting everything he- 
 reditary, and establishing government on the system of represen- 
 tation only. 
 
 Those who have said that a republic is not a, form of govern- 
 ment calculated for countries of great extent, mistook, in the 
 first place, the business of a government, for A form of govern- 
 ment; for the res-publica equally appertains to every extent of 
 territory and population. And, in the second place, if they 
 meant anything with respect to form, it was the simple demo- 
 cratical form, such as was the mode of government in the ancient 
 democracies, in which there was no representation. The case, 
 therefore, is not that a republic cannot be extensive, but that it 
 cannot be extensive on the simple democratic form; and the 
 question naturally presents itself, What is the best form of gov- 
 ernment for conducting the RES-PUBLICA or PUBLIC BUSINESS of 
 a nation, after it becomes too extensive and populous for the 
 simple democratical form ? 
 
 It cannot be monarchy, because monarchy is subject to an 
 objection of the same amount to which the democratical form 
 was subject. 
 
 It is possible that an individual may lay down a system of 
 principles on which government shall be constitutionally estab- 
 lished to any extent of territory This is no more than an
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN 363 
 
 operation of the mind acting by its own powers. But the 
 practice upon those principles, as applying to the various and 
 numerous circumstances of a nation, its agriculture, manufac- 
 tures, trade, commerce, kc., require a knowledge, of a different 
 kind, and which can be had only from the various parts of 
 society. It is an assemblage of practical knowledge, which no 
 one individual can possess ; and therefore the monarchical form 
 is as much limited, in useful practice, from the incompetency of 
 knowledge, as was the democratical form from the multiplicity 
 of population. The one degenerates, by extension, into con- 
 fusion ; the other into ignorance and incapacity, of which all 
 the great monarchies are an evidence. The monarchical form, 
 therefore, could not be a substitute for the democratical, 
 because it has equal inconveniences. 
 
 Much less could it when made hereditary. This is the most 
 effectual of all forms to preclude knowledge. Neither could the 
 high democratical mind have voluntarily yielded itself to be 
 governed by children and idiots, and all the motley insignifiance 
 of character, which attends such a mere animal system, the dis- 
 grace and the reproach of reason and of man. 
 
 As to the aristocratical form, it has the same vices and defects 
 with the monarchical, except that the chance of abilities is 
 better from the proportion of numbers, but there is still no 
 security for the right use and application of them.* 
 
 Referring, then, to the original simple democracy, it affords 
 the true data from which government on a large scale can begin. 
 It is incapable of extension, not from its principle, but from the 
 inconvenience of its form ; and monarchy and aristocracy from 
 their incapacity. Retaining, then, democracy as the ground, 
 and rejecting the corrupt systems of monarchy and aristocracy, 
 the representative system naturally presents itself ; remedying 
 at once the defects of the simple democracy as to form, and the 
 incapacity of the other two with regard to knowledge. 
 
 Simple democracy was society governing itself without the 
 use of secondary means. By ingrafting representation upon 
 democracy, we arrive at a system of government capable of 
 embracing and confederating all the various interests and every 
 extent of territory and population ; and that also with advan- 
 tages as much superior to hereditary government, as the repub- 
 lic of letters is to hereditary literature. 
 
 * For a character of aristocracy, the reader is referred to "Rights of Man. * 
 part i. p. 275 tt scq.
 
 364 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 It is on this system that the American government was 
 founded. It is representation ingrafted upon democracy. It 
 has settled the form by a scale parallel in all cases to the ex- 
 tent of the principle. What Athens was in miniature, America 
 \vill be in magnitude. The one was the wonder of the ancient 
 world the other is becoming the admiration and model of the 
 present. It is the easiest of all the forms of government to be 
 understood, and the most eligible in practice ; and excludes at 
 once the ignorance and insecurity of the hereditary mode, and 
 the inconvenience of the simple democracy. 
 
 It is impossible to conceive a system of government capable 
 of acting over such an extent of territory, and such a circle of 
 interests, as is produced by the operation of representation. 
 France, great and populous as it is, is but a spot in the capac- 
 iousness of the system. It adapts itself to all possible cases. 
 It is preferable to simple democracy even in small territories. 
 Athens, by representation, would have surpassed her own de- 
 mocracy. 
 
 That which is called government, or rather that which we 
 ought to conceive government to be, is no more than some com- 
 mon centre, in which all the parts of society unite. This can- 
 not be established by any method so conducive to the various 
 interests of the community, as by the representative system. 
 It concentrates the knowledge necessary to the interests of the 
 parts, and of the whole. It places government in a state of 
 constant maturity. It is, as has already been observed, never 
 young, never old. It is subject neither to nonage or dotage. 
 It is never in the cradle nor on crutches. It admits not of a 
 separation between knowledge and power, and is superior, as a 
 government ought always to be, to all the accidents of indivi- 
 dual man, and is therefore superior to what is called mon- 
 archy. 
 
 A nation is not a body, the figure of which is to be repre- 
 sented by the human body; but is like a body contained within 
 a circle, having a common centre, in which every radius meets : 
 and that centre is formed by representation. To connect repre- 
 sentation with what is called monarchy, is eccentric government. 
 Representation is of itself the delegated monarchy of a nation, 
 and cannot debase itself by dividing it with another. 
 
 Mr. Burke has two or three times in his parliamentary 
 speeches, and in his publications, made use of a jingle of words 
 that conveyed no ideas. Speaking of government, he says, " It
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 365 
 
 is better to have monarchy for its basis, and republicanism for 
 its corrective, then republicanism for its basis, and monarchy 
 for its corrective." If he means that it is better to correct folly 
 with wisdom, than wisdom with folly, I will not otherwise con- 
 tend with him than to say it would be much better to reject 
 the folly altogether. 
 
 But what is this thing which Mr. Burke calls monarchy? 
 Will he explain it: all mankind can understand what represen- 
 tation is ; and that it must necessarily include a variety of know- 
 ledge and talents. But what security is there for the same 
 qualities on the part of monarchy? Or, when this monarchy is 
 a child, where then is the wisdom ? What does it know about 
 government 1 Who then is the monarch 1 or where is the mon- 
 archy ? If it is to be performed by regency, it proves to be a 
 farce. A regency is a mock species of republic, and the whole 
 of monarchy deserves no better appellation. It is a thing as 
 various as imagination can paint. It has none of the stable 
 character that government ought to possess. Every succession 
 is a revolution, and every regency a counter-revolution. The 
 whole of it is a scene of perpetual court cabal and intrigue, of 
 which Mr. Burke is himself an instance. 
 
 Whether I have too little sense to see, or too much to be im 
 posed upon : whether I have too much or too little pride, or of 
 anything else, I leave out of the question ; but certain it is, 
 that what is called monarchy, always appears to me a silly, con 
 temptible thing. I compare it to something kept behind a cur 
 tain, about which there is a great deal of bustle and fuss, and a 
 wonderful air of seeming solemnity ; but when, by any accident, 
 the curtain happens to be open and the company see what it is, 
 they burst into laughter. 
 
 In the representative system of government, nothing like this 
 can happen. Like the nation itself, it possesses a perpetual 
 stamina, as well of body as of mind, and presents itself on the 
 open theatre of the world in a fair and manly manner. What- 
 ever are its excellencies or its defects, they are visible to all. 
 It exists not by fraud and mystery ; it deals not in cant and 
 sophistry; but inspires a language, that, passing from heart to 
 heart, is felt and understood. 
 
 We must shut our eyes against reason, we must basely de- 
 grade our understanding, not to see the folly of what is called 
 monarchy. Nature is orderly in all her works; but this is a 
 mode of government that counteracts nature. It turns the pro-
 
 366 RIGHTS OP MAN. 
 
 gress of the human faculties upside down. It subjects age to 
 be governed by children, and wisdom by folly. 
 
 On the contrary, the representative system is always parallel 
 with the order and immutable laws of nature, and meets the 
 reason of man in every part. For example: 
 
 In the American federal government, more power is 'delegated 
 to the president of the United States, than to any other indivi- 
 dual members of congress. He cannot, therefore, be elected to 
 this office under the age of thirty-five years. By this time the 
 udgment of man becomes matured, and he has lived long enough 
 to become acquainted with men and things, and the country 
 with him. But on the monarchical plan (exclusive of the num- 
 erous chances there are against every man born in the world, 
 of drawing a prize in the lottery of human faculties), the next 
 in succession, whatever he may be, is put at the head of a na- 
 tion, and of a government, at the age of eighteen years. Does 
 this appear like an act of wisdom 1 Is it consistent with the 
 proper dignity and the manly character of a nation 1 Where is 
 the propriety of calling such a lad the father of the people 1 ? 
 In all other cases, a person is a minor until the age of twenty- 
 one years. Before this period he is not trusted with the man- 
 agement of an acre of land, or with the heritable property of a 
 flock of sheep, or a herd of swine; but wonderful to tell! he 
 may at the age of eighteen years, be trusted with a nation. 
 
 That monarchy is all a bubble, a mere court artifice to pro- 
 cure money is evident (at least to me) in every character in 
 which it can be viewed. It would be almost impossible, on the 
 rational system of representative government, to make out a bill 
 of expenses to such an enormous amount as this deception ad- 
 mits. Government is not of itself a very chargeable institution. 
 The whole expense of the federal government of America, 
 founded, as I have already said, on the system of representation, 
 and extending over a country nearly ten times as large as Eng- 
 land, is but six hundred thousand dollars, or one hundred and 
 thirty thousand pounds sterling. 
 
 I presume that no man in his sober senses will compare the 
 character of any of the kings of Europe with that of general 
 Washington. Yet, in France, and also in England, the expense 
 of the civil list only, for the support of one man, is eight times 
 greater then the whole expenes of the federal government of 
 America. To assign a reason for this appears almost impossi- 
 ble. The generality of people in America, especially the poor,
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 367 
 
 are more able to pay taxes then the generality of people either 
 in France or England. 
 
 But the case is, that the representative system diffuses such 
 a body of knowledge throughout the nation, on the subject of 
 government, as to explode ignorance and preclude imposition. 
 The craft of courts cannot be acted on that ground. There is 
 no place for mystery ; no where for it to begin. Those who are 
 not in the representation, know as much of the nature of busi- 
 ness as those who are. An affectation of mysterious importance 
 would there be scouted. Nations can have no secrets; and the 
 secrets of courts, like those of individuals, are always their 
 detects. 
 
 In the representative system, the reason for everything must 
 publicly appear. Every man is a proprietor in government, 
 and considers it a necessary part of his business to understand. 
 It concerns his interest because it affects his property. He ex- 
 amines the cost, and compares it with the advantages ; and above 
 all, he does not adopt the slavish custom of following what in 
 other governments are called leaders. 
 
 It can only be by blinding the understanding of man, and 
 making him believe that government is some wonderful mys- 
 terious thing, that excessive revenues are obtained. Monarchy 
 is well calculated t ensure this end. It is the popery of gov- 
 ernment; a thing kept up to amuse the ignorant, and quiet 
 them into paying taxes. 
 
 The government of a free country, properly speaking, is not 
 in the persons, but in the laws. The enacting of those requires 
 no great expense; and when they are administered, the whole 
 of civil government is performed the rest is aJl court contriv- 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 ON CONSTITUTIONS. 
 
 THAT men mean distinct and separate things when they talk 
 of constitutions and of governments, is evident; or, why are 
 those terms distinctly and separately used ? A constitution is 
 not the act of a government, but of a people constituting a gov- 
 ernment; and government without a constitution, is power 
 without a right
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 All power exercised over a nation must have some beginning. 
 It must be either delegated, or assumed. There are no other 
 sources. All delegated power is trust, and all assumed power 
 is usurpation. Time does not alter the nature and quality of 
 either. 
 
 In viewing this subject, the case and circumstances of America 
 present themselves as in the beginning of a world ; and our in- 
 quiry into the origin of government is shortened, by referring 
 to the facts that have arisen in our day. We have no occasion 
 to roam for information into the obscure field of antiquity, nor 
 hazard ourselves upon conjecture. We are brought at once to 
 the point of seeing government begin, as if we had lived in the 
 beginning of time. The real volume, not of history, but of 
 facts, is directly before us, unmutilated by contrivance or the 
 errors of tradition. 
 
 I will here concisely state the commencement of the American 
 constitutions; by which the difference between constitutions 
 and governments will sufficiently appear. 
 
 It may not be improper to remind the reader, that the United 
 States of America consist of thirteen states, each of which 
 established a government for itself, after the declaration of in- 
 dependence, of the fourth of July, 1776. Each state acted in- 
 dependently of the rest, in forming its government; but the 
 same general principle pervades the whole. When the several 
 state governments were formed, they proceeded to form the 
 federal government, that acts over the whole in all matters 
 which concern the interest of the whole, or which relate to the 
 intercourse of the several states with each other, or with foreign 
 nations. I will begin with giving an instance from one of the 
 state governments (that of Pennsylvania) and then proceed to 
 the federal government. 
 
 The state of Pennsylvania, though nearly of the same extent 
 of territory with England, was then divided into twelve counties. 
 Each of those counties had elected a committee at the com- 
 mencement of the dispute with the English government; and 
 as the city of Philadelphia, which also had its committee, was 
 the most central for intelligence, it became the centre of com- 
 munication to the several county committees. When it became 
 necessary to proceed to the formation of a government, the 
 committee of Philadelphia proposed a conference of all the 
 county committees, to be held in that city, and which met the 
 latter end of July, 1776.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 369 
 
 Though these committees had been elected by the people, 
 they were not elected expressly for the purpose, nor invested 
 with the authority of forming a constitution : and as they could 
 not, consistently with the American idea of rights, assume such 
 a power, they could only confer upon the matter, and put it into 
 a train of operation. The conferees, therefore, did no more 
 than state the case and recommend to the several counties to 
 elect six representatives for each county, to meet in convention 
 at Philadelphia, with powers to form a constitution, and pro- 
 pose it for public consideration. 
 
 This convention, of which Benjamin Franklin was president, 
 having met and deliberated, and agreed upon a constitution, 
 they next ordered it to be published, not as a thing established, 
 but for the consideration of the whole people, .their approbation 
 or rejection, and then adjourned to a stated time. When the 
 time of adjournment was expired, the convention re-assembled; 
 and as the general opinion of the people in approbation of it 
 was then known, the constitution was signed, sealed, and pro- 
 claimed on the authority of the people, and the original instru- 
 ment deposited as a public record. The convention then ap- 
 pointed a day for the general election of the representatives 
 who were to compose the government, and the time it should 
 commence; and having done this, they dissolved, and returned 
 to their several homes and occupations. 
 
 In this constitution were laid down, first, a declaration of 
 rights. Then followed the form which the government should 
 have, and the powers it should possess the authority of courts 
 of judicature and of juries the manner in which elections 
 should be conducted, and the proportion of representatives to 
 the number of electors the time which each succeeding 
 assembly should continue, which was one year the mode of 
 levying, and of accounting for the expenditure of public money 
 of appointing public officers, &c. 
 
 No article of this constitution could be altered or infringed 
 at the discretion of the government that was to ensue. It was 
 to that government a law. But as it would have been unwise 
 to preclude the benefit of experience, and in order also to pre- 
 vent the accumulation of errors, if any should be found, and 
 to preserve an unison of government with the circumstances of 
 the state at all times, the constitution provided, that, at the 
 expiration of every seven years, a convention should be elected, 
 for the express purpose of revising the constitution, and making
 
 370 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 alterations, additions, or abolitions therein, if any such should 
 be found necessary. 
 
 Here we see a regular process a government issuing out of a 
 constitution, formed by the people in their original character; 
 and that constitution, serving, not only as an authority, but as 
 a law of control to the government. It was the political bible 
 of the state. Scarcely a family was without it. Every mem- 
 ber of the government had a copy; and nothing was more com- 
 mon, when any debate arose on the principle of a bill, or on 
 the extent of any species of authority, than for the members 
 to take the printed constitution out of their pocket, and read 
 the chapter with which such matter in debate was connected. 
 
 Having thus given an instance from one of the states, I will 
 show the proceedings by which the federal constitution of the 
 United States arose and was formed. 
 
 Congress, at its two first meetings, in September, 1774, and 
 May, 1775, was nothing more than a deputation from the legis- 
 latures of the several provinces, afterwards states; and had no 
 other authority than what arose from common consent, and the 
 necessity of its acting as a public body. In everything which 
 related to the internal affairs of America, congress went no 
 further than to issue recommendations, to the several provincial 
 assemblies, who at discretion, adopted them or not. Nothing 
 on the part of congress was compulsive; yet, in this situation, 
 it was more faithfully and affectionately obeyed, than was any 
 government in Europe. This instance, like that of the national 
 assembly in France, sufficiently shows, that the strength of 
 government does not consist in anything within itself, but in 
 the attachment of a nation, and the interest which the people 
 feel in supporting it. When this is lost, government is but a 
 child in power; and though, like the old government of France, 
 it may harass individuals for a while, it but facilitates its own 
 fall. 
 
 After the declaration of independence, it became consistent 
 with the principle on which representative government is 
 founded, that the authority of congress should be defined and 
 established. Whether that authority should be more or less 
 than congress then discretionately exercised, was not then the 
 question. It was merely the rectitude of the measure. 
 
 For this purpose the act, called the act of confederation 
 (which was a sort of imperfect federal institution) was proposed, 
 and after long deliberation, was concluded in the year 1781.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 371 
 
 It was not the act of congress, because it is repugnant to the 
 principles of representative government that a body should give 
 power to itself. Congress first informed the several states of the 
 powers which it conceived were necessary to be invested in the 
 union, to enable it to perform the duties and services required 
 from it ; and the states severally agreed with each other, and 
 concentrated in congress those powers. 
 
 It may not be improper to observe, that in both those in- 
 stances (the one of Pennsylvania, and the other of the United 
 States) there is no such thing as the idea of a compact between 
 the people on one side, and the government on the other. The 
 compact was that of the people with each other, to produce and 
 constitute a government. To suppose that any government can 
 be a party to a compact with the whole people, is to suppose it 
 to have existence before it can have a right to exist. The only 
 instance in which a compact can take place between the people 
 and those who exercise the government, is, that the people 
 shall pay them, while they choose to employ them. 
 
 Government is not a trade which any man or body of men has 
 a right to set up and exercise for his own emolument, but is 
 altogether a trust, in right of those by whom that trust is dele- 
 gated, and by whom it is always resumable. It has of itself no 
 rights ; that are altogether duties. 
 
 Having thus given two instances of the original formation of 
 a constitution, I will show the manner in which both have been 
 changed since their first establishment. 
 
 The powers vested in the governments of the several states, 
 by the state constitutions, were found, upon experience, to be 
 too great ; and those vested in the federal government, by the 
 act of confederation, too little. The defect was not in the 
 principle, but in the distribution of power. 
 
 Numerous publications, in pamphlets and in the newspapers, 
 appeared on the propriety and necessity of new-modelling the 
 federal government. After some time of public discussion, 
 carried on through the channel of the press, and in conversa- 
 tions, the state of Virginia, experiencing some inconvenience 
 with respect to commerce, proposed holding a continental con- 
 ference; in consequence of which, a deputation from five or six 
 of the state assemblies met at Annapolis in Maryland, in 1786. 
 This meeting, not conceiving itself sufficiently authorized to go 
 into the business of a reform, did no more than state their 
 general opinions of the propriety of the measure, and recom-
 
 .'*72 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 mend that a convention of all the states should be held the year 
 following. 
 
 This convention met at Philadelphia, in May, 1787, of which 
 General Washington was elected president. He was not at 
 that time connected with any of the state governments, or with 
 congress. He delivered up his commission when the war ended, 
 and since then had lived a private citizen. 
 
 The convention went deeply into all the subjects ; and having, 
 after a variety of debate and investigation, agreed among 
 themselves upon the several parts of a federal constitution, the, 
 next question was, the manner of giving it authority and prac- 
 tice. 
 
 For this purpose, they did not, like a cabal of courtiers, send 
 for a Dutch stadtholder, or a German elector; but they re- 
 ferred the whole matter to the sense and interest of the country. 
 
 They first directed that the proposed constitution should be 
 published, Second, that each state should elect a convention 
 expressly for the purpose of taking it into consideration, and of 
 ratifying or rejecting it; and that as soon as the approbation 
 and ratification of any nine states should be given, those 
 states should proceed to the election of their proportion of mem- 
 bers to the new federal government; and that the operation of 
 it should then begin, and the former federal government cease. 
 
 The several states proceeded accordingly to elect their con- 
 ventions; some of those conventions ratified the constitution 
 by very large majorities, and two or three unanimously. In 
 others there were much debate and division of opinion. In 
 the Massachusetts convention, which met at Boston, the 
 majority was not above nineteen or twenty, in about three 
 hundred members; but such is the nature of representative 
 government, that it quietly decides all matters by majority. 
 After the debate in the Massachusetts convention was closed, 
 and the vote taken, the objecting members rose and declared, 
 "T/iat though tJiey had argued and voted against it, because 
 certain parts appeared to them in a different light to what they 
 appeared to other members; yet, as the vote had been decided in 
 favor of the constitution as proposed, they should give it the 
 same practical support as if tfay had voted for it." 
 
 As soon as nine states had concurred (and the rest followed 
 in the order their conventions were elected), the old fabric of 
 the federal government was taken down, and a new one erected, 
 of which General Washington is president. In this place I
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 373 
 
 cannot help remarking that the character and services of this 
 gentleman are sufficient to put all those men called kings to 
 shame. While they are receiving from the sweat and labors 
 of mankind a prodigality of pay to which neither their abilities 
 nor their services can entitle them, he is rendering every ser- 
 vice in his power, and refusing every pecuniary reward. He 
 accepted no pay as commander-in-chief ; he accepts none as 
 president of the United States. 
 
 After the new federal constitution was established, the state 
 of Pennsylvania, conceiving that some parts of its own consti- 
 tution required to be altered, elected a convention for that 
 purpose. The proposed alterations were published, and the 
 people concurring therein, they were established. 
 
 In forming those constitutions, or in altering them, little or 
 no inconvenience took place. The ordinary course of things 
 was not interrupted, and the advantages have been much. It 
 is always the interest of a far greater number of people in a 
 nation to have things right, than to let them remain wrong; 
 and when public matters are open to debate, and the public 
 judgment free, it will not decide wrong, unless it decides too 
 hastily. 
 
 In the two instances of changing the constitutions, the govern- 
 ment then in being were not actors either way. Government 
 has no right to make itself a party in any debate respecting the 
 principles or modes of forming, or of changing, constitutions. 
 It is not for the benefit of those who exercise the powers of 
 government, that constitutions, and the governments issuing 
 from them, are established. In all those matters, the right of 
 judging and acting are in those who pay, and not in those who 
 receive. 
 
 A constitution is the property of a nation, and nob of those 
 *rho exercise the government. All the constitutions of America 
 ire declared to be established on the authority of the people. 
 fn France, the word nation is used instead of the people ; but 
 in both cases, a constitution is a thing antecedent to the govern- 
 ment, and always distinct therefrom. 
 
 In England, it is not difficult to perceive that everything has 
 a constitution, except the nation. Every society and association 
 that is established, first agreed upon a number of original 
 articles, digested into form, which are its constitution. It 
 then appointed its officers, whose powers and authorities are 
 described in that constitution, and the government of that
 
 374 BIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 society then commenced. Those officers, by whatever name 
 they are called, have no authority to add to, alter, or abridge 
 the original articles. It is only to the constituting power that 
 this right belongs. 
 
 From the want of understanding the difference between a 
 constitution and a government, Dr. Johnson, and all writers of 
 his description, have always bewildered themselves. They 
 could not but perceive that there must necessarily be a control- 
 ling power somewhere, and they placed this power in the dis- 
 cretion of the persons exercising the government, instead of 
 placing it in a constitution formed by the nation. When it is 
 in a constitution, it has the nation for its support, and the 
 natural and the political controlling powers are together. The 
 laws which are enacted by governments, control men only as 
 individuals, but the nation, through its constitution, controls 
 the whole government, and has a natural ability so to do. 
 The final controlling power, therefore, and the original consti 
 tuting power, are one and the same power. 
 
 Dr. Johnson could not have advanced such a position in any 
 country where there was a constitution; and he is himself an 
 evidence that no such thing as a constitution exists in England. 
 But it may be put as a question, not improper to be investi- 
 gated, that if a constitution does not exist, how came the idea 
 of its existence so generally established ? 
 
 In order to decide this question, it is necessary to consider a 
 constitution in both its cases: 1st, as creating a government 
 and giving it its powers : 2nd, as regulating and restraining the 
 powers so given. 
 
 If we begin with William of Normandy, we find that the 
 government of England was originally a tyranny, founded on 
 an invasion and conquest of the country. This being admitted, 
 it will then appear that the exertion of the nation, at different 
 periods, to abate that tyranny, and render it less intolerable, has 
 been credited for a constitution. 
 
 Magna Charta, as it was called (it is now like an almanac of 
 the same date), was no more than compelling the government to 
 renounce a part of its assumptions. It did not create and give 
 powers to government in the manner a constitution does; but 
 was, as far as it went, of the nature of a re-conquest, and not 
 of a constitution; for, could the nation have totally expelled 
 the usurpation, as France has done its despotism, it would then 
 have had a constitution to form
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 375 
 
 The history of the Edwards and the Henries, and up to the 
 commencement of the Stuarts, exhibits as many instances of 
 tyranny as could be acted within the limits to which the nation 
 had restricted it. The Stuarts endeavored to pass those limits, 
 and their fate is well known. In all those instances we see 
 nothing of a constitution, but only of restrictions on assumed 
 power. 
 
 After this, another William, descended from the same stock, 
 and claiming from the same origin, gained possession; and of 
 the two evils, James and William, the nation preferred what it 
 thought the least ; since, from the circumstances, it must take 
 one. The act, called the Bill of Rights, comes here into view. 
 What it it but a bargain, which the parts of the government 
 made with each other, to divide power, profit, and privileges 1 
 You shall have so much, and I will have the rest; and with 
 respect to the nation, it said, for your share, YOU shall have the 
 right of petitioning. This being the case, the bill of rights is 
 more properly a bill of wrongs, and of insult. As to what is 
 called the convention-parliament, it was a thing that made 
 itself, and then made the authority by which it acted. A few 
 persons got together, and called themselves by that name. 
 Several of them had never been elected, and none of them for 
 that purpose. 
 
 From the time of William, a species of government arose, 
 issuing out of this coalition bill of rights; and more so, since 
 the corruption introduced at the Hanover succession, by the 
 agency of Walpole: that can be described by no other name 
 ti i a despotic legislation. Though the parts may embarrass 
 each other, the whole has no bonnds; and the only right it 
 acknowledges out of itself, is the right of petitioning. Where 
 then is the constitution that either gives or restrains power 1 
 
 It is not because a part of the government is elective, that 
 makes it less a despotism, if the persons so elected, possess 
 afterwards, as a parliament, unlimited powers. Election, in 
 this case, becomes separated from representation, and the can- 
 didates are candidates for despotism. 
 
 I cannot believe that any nation, reasoning on its own rights, 
 woVld have thought of calling those things a constitution, if the 
 cry of constitution had not been set up by the government. It 
 has got into circulation like the words bore, and quiz, by being 
 chalked up in speeches of parliament, as those words were on 
 window-shutters and door posts; but whatever the constitution
 
 376 RIGHTS OP MAN. 
 
 may be in other respects, it has undoubtedly been the most pro- 
 ductive machine for taxation that was ever invented. The taxes 
 in France, under the new constitution, are not quite thirteen 
 shillings per head,* and the taxes in England, under what is 
 called its present constitution, are forty-eight shillings and 
 sixpence per head, men, women, and children, amounting to 
 nearly seventeen millions sterling, besides the expense of col- 
 lection, which is upwards of a million more. 
 
 In a country like England, where the whole of the civil gov- 
 ernment is executed by the people of every town and county, 
 by means of parish officers, magistrates, quarterly sessions, 
 juries, and assize, without any trouble to what is called govern- 
 ment, or any other expense to the revenue than the salary of 
 the judges, it is astonishing how such a mass of taxes can be 
 employed. Not even the internal defence of the country is 
 paid out of the revenue. On all occasions, whether real or 
 contrived, recourse is continually had to new loans and to new 
 taxes. No wonder, then, that a machine of government so 
 advantageous to the advocates of a court, should be so trium- 
 phantly extolled ! No wonder that St. James' or St. Stephen's 
 should echo with the continual cry of constitution ! No won- 
 der that the French revolution should be reprobated, and the 
 res-publica treated with reproach ! The red book of England, 
 like the red book of France, will explain the reason.f 
 
 I will now, by way of relaxation, turn a thought or two to 
 Mr. Burke. I ask his pardon for neglecting him so long. 
 
 " America," says he (in a speech on the Canada constitution 
 bill), " never dreamed of such absurd doctrine as the ' Rights 
 of Man.'" 
 
 Mr. Burke is such a bold presumer, and advances his asser- 
 tions and premises with such a deficiency of judgment, that, 
 without troubling ourselves about principles of philosophy or 
 
 * The whole amount of the assessed taxes of France, for the present year, 
 Is three hundred millions of francs, which is twelve millions and a half ster- 
 ling ; and the incidental taxes are estimated at three millions, making in the 
 whole fifteen millions and a half ; which among twenty-four millions of 
 people, is not quite thirteen shillings per head. France has lessened her 
 taxes since the revolution, nearly nine millions sterling annually. Be/ore 
 the revolution, the city of Paris paid a duty of upwards of thirty per cent. 
 on all articles brought into the city. This tax was collected at the city 
 fates. It was taken off on the first of last May, and the gates taken down. 
 
 t What was called the livre rouge, or the red book, in France, was not ex- 
 actly similar to the court calendar in England ; but it sufficiently showed 
 how a great part of the taxes were lavished.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 377 
 
 politics, the mere logical conclusions they produce are ridicu- 
 lous. For instance : 
 
 If governments, as Mr. Burke asserts, are not founded on 
 the rights of man, and are founded on any rights at all, they 
 consequently must be founded on the rights of something that is 
 not man. What, then, is that something 1 
 
 Generf)ly speaking, we know of no other creatures that in- 
 habit thp earth than man and beast; and in all cases, where 
 only two things offer themselves, and one must be admitted, a 
 negation proved on any one, amounts to an affirmative on the 
 other : and therefore, Mr. Burke, by proving against the rights 
 of m-an, proves in behalf of the beast; and consequently, 
 proves that government is a beast : and as difficult things some- 
 times explain each other, we now see the origin of keeping wild 
 beasts in the Tower; for they certainly can be of no other use 
 than to show the origin of the government. They are in the 
 place of a constitution. O ! John Bull, what honors thou hast 
 lost by not being a wild beast. Thou mightest, on Mr. Burke's 
 system, have been in the Tower for life. 
 
 If Mr. Burke's arguments have not weight enough to keep 
 one serious, the fault is less mine than his; and as I am 
 willing to make an apology to the reader for the liberty I have 
 taken, I hope Mr. Burke will also make his for giving the cause. 
 Having thus paid Mr. Burke the compliment of remembering 
 him, I return to the subject. 
 
 From the want of a constitution in England, to restrain and 
 regulate the wild impulse of power, many of the laws are irra- 
 tional and tyrannical, and the administration of them vague 
 and problematical. 
 
 The attention of the government of England (for I rather 
 choose to call it by this name, than the English government) 
 appears, since its political connexion with Germany, to have 
 been so completely engrossed and absorbed by foreign affairs, 
 and the means of raising taxes, that it seems to exist for no 
 other purposes. Domestic concerns are neglected; and, with 
 respect to regular law, there is scarcely such a thing. 
 
 Almost every case must now be determined by some prece- 
 dent, be that precedent good or bad, or whether it properly 
 applies or not; and the practice has become so general, as to 
 suggest a suspicion that it proceeds from a deeper policy than 
 at first sight appears. 
 
 Since the revolution of America, and more so since that of
 
 378 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 France, this preaching up the doctrine of precedents, drawn 
 from times and circumstances antecedent to those events, has 
 been the studied practice of the English government. The gener- 
 ality of those precedents are founded on principles and opinions 
 the reverse of what they ought to be ; and the greater distance 
 of time they are drawn from, the more they are to be suspected. 
 But by associating those precedents with a superstitious rever- 
 ence for ancient tilings, as monks show relics and call them 
 holy, the generality of mankind are deceived into the design. 
 Governments now act as if they were afraid to awaken a single 
 reflection in man. They are softly leading him to the sepulchre 
 of precedents, to deaden his faculties and call his attention 
 from the scene of revolutions. They feel that he is arriving at 
 knowledge faster than they wish, and their policy of precedents 
 is the barometer of their fears. This political popery, like the 
 ecclesiastical popery pf old, has had its day, and is hastening to 
 its exit The ragged relic and the antiquated precedent, the 
 monk and the monarch will moulder together. 
 
 Government by precedent, without any regard to the prin- 
 ciple of the precedent, is one of the vilest systems that can be 
 set up. In numerous instances, the precedent ought to operate 
 as a warning, and not as an example, and requires to be shunned 
 instead of imitated; but instead of this, precedents are taken in 
 the lump and put at once for constitution and for law. 
 
 Either the doctrine of precedent is policy to keep a man in a 
 state of ignorance, or it is a practical confession that wisdom 
 degenerates in governments as governments increase in age, and 
 can only hobble along by the stilts and crutches of precedents. 
 How is it that the same persons who would proudly be thought 
 wiser than their predecessors, appear at the same time only as the 
 gh'osts of departed wisdom ? How strangely is antiquity treat- 
 ed ! To answer some purposes, it is spoken of as the times of 
 darkness and ignorance, and to answer others it is put for the 
 light of the world. 
 
 If the doctrine of precedents is to be followed, the expenses 
 of government need not continue the same. Why pay men 
 extravagantly who have but little to do t If everything that 
 can happen is already in precedent, legislation is at an end, and 
 precedent, like a dictionary, determines every case. Either, 
 therefore, government has arrived at its dotage, and requires 
 to be renovated, or all the occasions for exercising its wisdom 
 have occurred.
 
 EIGHTS OF MAN. 37 i) 
 
 We now see all over Europe, and particularly in England, 
 t^ e curious phenomenon of a nation looking one way and a gov- 
 ermnent the other; the one forward, and the other backward. 
 It governments are to go on by precedent, whils nations go on 
 by improvement, they must at last come to a final separation, 
 and the sooner, and the more civilly they determine this point, 
 the better it will be for them.* 
 
 Having thus spoken of constitutions generally, as things dis- 
 tinct from actual governments, let us proceed to consider the 
 parts of which a constitution is composed. 
 
 Opinions differ more on this subject, than with respect to the 
 whole. That a nation ought to have a constitution, as a rule for 
 the conduct of its government, is a simple question in which all 
 men, not directly courtiers, will agree. It is only on the com- 
 ponent parts that questions and opinions multiply. 
 
 But this difficulty, like every other, wilj diminish when put 
 into a train of being rightly understood. 
 
 The first thing is, that a nation has a right to establish a con- 
 stitution. 
 
 Whether it exercises this right in the most judicious manner 
 at first, is quite another case. It exercises it agreeably to the 
 judgment it possesses ; and by continuing to do so, all errors 
 will at last be exploded. 
 
 When this right is established in a nation, there is no fear 
 that it will be employed to its own injury. A nation can have 
 no interest in being wrong. 
 
 Though all the constitutions of America are on one general 
 principle, yet no two of them are exactly alike in their compo- 
 nent parts, or in the distribution of the powers which they give 
 to the actual governments. Some are more and others less 
 complex. 
 
 In forming a constitution, it is first necessary to consider 
 what are the ends for which government is necessary : secondly, 
 
 * In England, the improvements in agriculture, useful arts, manufac- 
 tures, and commerce, have been made in opposition to the genius of its gov- 
 ernment, which is that of following precedents. It is from the enterprise 
 and industry of the individuals, and their numerous associations, in which, 
 tritely speaking, government is neither pillar nor bolster, that these im- 
 provements have proceeded. No man thought about the government, or 
 who was in, or who was out, when he was planning or executing those things; 
 and all he had to hope, with respect to government, was, that it would let 
 him alone. Three or four very silly ministerial newspapers are continually 
 offending against the spirit of national improvement, by ascribing it to a 
 minister. They may with as much truth ascribe thia book to a minister.
 
 380 EIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 what are the best means, and the least expensive, for accom- 
 plishing those ends. 
 
 Government is nothing more than a national association ; and 
 the object of this association is the good of all, as well indi- 
 vidually as collectively. Every man wishes to pursue his occu- 
 pation, and to enjoy the fruits of his labors, and the produce of 
 his property, in peace and safety, and with the least possible 
 expense. When these things are accomplished, all the objects 
 for which government ought to be established are answered. 
 
 It has been customary to consider government under three 
 distinct general heads. The legislative, the executive, and the 
 judicial 
 
 But if we permit our judgment to act unencumbered by the 
 habit of multiplied terms, we can perceive no more than two 
 divisions of power of which civil government is composed, 
 namely, that of legislating or enacting laws, and that of execut- 
 ing or administering them. Everything, therefore, appertain- 
 ing to civil government, classes itself under one or other of these 
 two divisions. 
 
 So far as regards the execution of the laws, that which is 
 called the judicial power, is strictly and properly the executive 
 power of every country. It is that power to which every 
 individual has an appeal, and which causes the laws to be exe- 
 cuted; neither have we any other clear idea with respect to 
 the official execution of the laws. In England, and also in 
 America and France, this power begins with the magistrate, 
 and proceeds up through all the courts of judicature. 
 
 I leave to courtiers to explain what is meant by calling 
 monarchy the executive power. It is merely a name in which 
 acts of government are done; and any other, or none at all, 
 would answer the same purpose. Laws have neither more nor 
 less authority on this account. It must be from the justness 
 of their principles, and the interest which a nation feels therein, 
 that they derive support; if they require any other than this, 
 it is a sign that something in the system of government is 
 imperfect Laws difficult to be executed cannot be generally 
 good. 
 
 With respect to the organization of the legislative power, 
 different modes have been adopted in different countries. In 
 America it is generally composed of two houses. In France it 
 consists of but one, but in both countries, it is wholly by 
 representation.
 
 EIGHTS OF MAN. 381 
 
 The case is, that mankind (from the long tyranny of assumed 
 power) have had so few opportunities of making the necessary 
 trials on modes and principles of government, in order to dis- 
 cover the best, that government is but now beginning to be known, 
 and experience is yet wanting to determine many particulars. 
 
 The objections against two houses are, first, that there is 
 an inconsistency in any part of a whole legislature, coming to 
 a final determination by vote on any matter, whilst that matter, 
 with respect to that whole, is yet only in a train of deliberation, 
 and consequently open to new illustrations. 
 
 2nd, That by taking the vote on each as a separate body, it 
 always admits of the possibility, and is often the case in prac- 
 tice, that the minority governs the majority, and that, in some 
 instances, to a great degree of inconsistency. 
 
 3rd, That two houses arbitrarily checking or controlling each 
 other, is inconsistent; because it cannot be proved, on the 
 principles of just representation, that either should be wiser or 
 better than the other. They may check in the wrong as well 
 as in the right; and, therefore, to give the power where we 
 cannot give the wisdom to use it, nor be assured of its being 
 rightly used, renders the hazard at least equal to the precau- 
 tion.* 
 
 The objection against a single house is, that it is always in a 
 condition of committing itself too soon. But it should at the 
 same time be remembered that when there is a constitution 
 which defines the power, and establishes the principles within 
 which a legislature shall act, there is already a more effectual 
 check provided, and more powerfully operating, than any other 
 check can be. For example. 
 
 Were a bill to be brought into any of the American legis- 
 
 * With respect to the two houses, of which the English parliament is com. 
 posed, they appear to be effectually influenced into one, and, as a legislature 
 to have no temper of its own. The minister, whoever he at any time may be 
 touches it as with an opium wand, and it sleeps obedience. 
 
 But if we look at the distinct abilities of the two houses, the difference will 
 appear so great, as to show the inconsistency of placing power where there 
 can be no certainty of the judgment to use it. Wretched as the state of 
 representation is in England, it is manhood compared with what is called the 
 house of lords ; and so little is this nick-named house regarded, that the 
 people scarcely inquire at any time what it is doing. It appears also to be 
 most under influence, and the furthest removed from the general interest of 
 the nation. In the debate on engaging in the Russian and Turkish war, the 
 majority in the house of peers in favor of it was upwards of ninety, when in 
 the other house, which was more than double its numbers, the majority was 
 sixty-thraa.
 
 382 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 latures, similar to that which was passed into an act by the Eng- 
 lish parliament, at the commencement of the reign of George I., 
 to extend the duration of the assemblies to a longer period than 
 they now sit, the check is in the constitution, which in effect 
 says, thus far shall thou go and no fartJier. 
 
 But in order to remove the objection against a single house, 
 (that of acting with too quick an impulse) and at the same time 
 to avoid the inconsistencies, in some cases absurdities, arising 
 from the two houses, the following method has been proposed 
 as an improvement on both. 
 
 1st, To have but one representation. 
 
 2nd, To divide that representation, by lot, into two or three 
 parts. 
 
 3rd, That every proposed bill shall first be debated in those 
 parts, by succession, that they may become hearers of each other, 
 but without taking any vote. After which the whole represen- 
 tation to assemble, for a general debate and determination, by 
 vote. 
 
 To this proposed improvement, has been added another, for 
 the purpose of keeping the representation in a state of constant 
 renovation; which is, that one third of the representation of 
 each country shall go out at the expiration of one year, and the 
 number be replaced by new elections. Another third at the 
 expiration of the second year, replaced in like manner, and every 
 third year to be a general election.* 
 
 The proceedings on Mr. Fox's bill, respecting the rights of juries, 
 merits also to be noticed. The persons called the peers, were not 
 the objects of that bill. They are already in possession of more priv- 
 iliges than that bill gave to others. They are their own jury, and if 
 any one of that house were prosecuted for a libel, he would not suf- 
 fer, even upon conviction, for the first offence. Such inequality in 
 laws ought not to exist in any country. The French constitution 
 says, that the law is the same to every individual, whether to protect or 
 to punish. AU art equal in its right. 
 
 But in whatever manner the separate parts of a constitution 
 may be arranged, there is one general principle that distinguishes 
 freedom from slavery, which is, that all hereditary government 
 
 * Aa to the state of representation in England, it is too absurd to be reasoned 
 upon. Almost all the represented parts are decreasing in population, and the 
 unrepresented parts are increasing. A general convention of the nation is 
 necessary to take the whole state of its government into consideration.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 383 
 
 over a people is to them a species of slavery, and representative 
 government is freedom. 
 
 Considering government in the only light in which it should 
 be considered, that of a NATIONAL ASSOCIATION, it ought to be 
 so constructed as not to be disordered by any accident happen- 
 ing among the parts ; and therefore, no extraordinary power, 
 capable of producing such an effect, should be lodged in the hands 
 of any individual. The death, sickness, absence, or defection 
 of any one individual in a government, ought to be a matter of 
 no more consequence, with respect to the nation, than if the 
 same circumstance had taken place in a member of the English 
 parliament, or the French national assembly. 
 
 Scarcely anything presents a more degrading character of 
 national greatness, than its being thrown into confusion by any 
 thing happening to, or acted by an individual ; and the ridicul- 
 ousness of the scene is often increased by the natural insignifiance 
 of the person by whom it is occasioned. Were a government 
 so constructed, that it could not go on unless a goose or a gander 
 were present in the senate, the difficulties would be just as great 
 and as real on the flight or sickness of the goose or the gander, 
 as if they were called a king. We laugh at individuals for the 
 silly difficulties they make to themselves, without perceiving 
 that the greatest of all ridiculous things are acted in govern- 
 ments.* 
 
 All the constitutions of America are on a plan that excludes 
 the childish embarrassments which occur in monarchical coun- 
 tries. No suspension of government can there take place for a 
 moment, from any circumstance whatever. The system of 
 representation provides for everything, and is the only system 
 
 * It is related, that in the canton of Berne, in Switzerland, it had been cus- 
 tomary, from time immemorial, to keep a bear at the public expense, and the 
 people had been taught to believe, that if they had not a bear, they should all 
 be undone. It happened some years ago, that the bear, then in being, was 
 taken sick, and died too suddenly to have his place immediately supplied with 
 another. During the interregnum the people discovered that the corn grew 
 and the vintage nourished, and the sun and moon continued to rise and set, 
 and everything went on the same as before, and, taking courage fit>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 
 <lirectly this effect, they cannot but be injurious. If any pol- 
 icy were to be followed, instead of that of general freedom, to 
 *'very person to settle where he chose (as in France or America), 
 it would be more consistant to give encouragement to new 
 comers, then to preclude their admission by exacting premiums 
 from them.* 
 
 The persons most immediately interested in the abolition of 
 corporations are the inhabitants of the towns where corpora- 
 tions are established. The instances of Manchester, Birming- 
 ham, and Sheffield, show, by contrast, the injury which those 
 Gothic institutions are to property and commerce. A few ex- 
 amples may be found, such as that of London, whose natural 
 and commercial advantages, owing to its situation on the Thames, 
 is capable of bearing up against the political evils of a corpor- 
 ation ; but in almost all other cases the fatality is too visible to 
 be doubted or denied. 
 
 Though the whole nation is not so directly affected by the de- 
 pression of property in corporation towns as the inhabitants 
 themselves, it partakes of the consequene. By lessening the 
 value of property, the quantity of national commerce is cur- 
 tailed. Every man is a customer in proportion to his ability ; 
 and as all parts of a nation trade with each other, whatever affects 
 any of the parts, must necessarily communicate to the whole. 
 
 * It is difficult to account for the origin of charter and corporation towns, 
 unless we suppose them to have arisen out of, or having been connected with 
 some species of garrison services. The times in which they began justify 
 this idea. The generality of those towns have been garrisons, and the cor- 
 porations were charged with the care of the gates of the towns, when no 
 military garrison was present. Their refusing or granting adi.iission to 
 strangers, which has produced the custom of giving, selling, and buying free- 
 dom, has more of the nature of garrison authority than civil government. 
 Soldiers are free of all corporations throughout the nation, by the same pro- 
 priety that every soldier is free of every garrison, and no other persons are. 
 He can follow any employment, with the permission of his officers, in any 
 corporation town'throughout the nation. 
 2(1
 
 402 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 As one of the houses of the English parliament is, in a great 
 measure, made up by elections from these corporations; and as it 
 is unnatural that a pure stream would flow from a foul fountain, 
 its vices are but a continuation of the vices of its origin. A 
 man of moral honor and good political principals, cannot sub- 
 mit to the mean drudgery and disgraceful arts, by which such 
 elections are carried. To be a successful candidate, he must be 
 destitute of the qualities that constitute a just legislator : and 
 being thus disciplined to corruption by the mode of entering 
 into parliament, it is not to be expected that the representative 
 should be better than the man. 
 
 Mr Burke, in speaking of the English representation, has ad- 
 vanced as bold a challenge as ever was given in the days of chiv- 
 alry. " Our representation," says he, " has been found perfectly 
 adequate to all the purposes for which a representation of the 
 people can be desired or devised. I defy," continues he, " the 
 enemies of our constitution to show the contrary." This declar- 
 ation from a man, who has been in constant opposition to all 
 the measures of parliament the whole of his political life, a year 
 or two excepted, is most extraordinary, and, comparing him with 
 himself, admits of no other alternative, than that he acted 
 against his judgment as a member, or has declared contrary to 
 it as an author. 
 
 But it is not in the representation only that the defects lie, 
 and therefore I proceed in the next place to aristocracy. 
 
 What is called the house of peers is constituted on a ground 
 very similar to that against which there is a law in other cases. 
 It amounts to a combination of persons in one common interest. 
 No reason can be given why a house of legislation should be 
 composed entirely of men whose occupation consists in letting 
 landed property, than why it should be composed of those who 
 hire, or of brewers, or bakers, or any other separate class of 
 men. 
 
 Mr. Burke calls this house, " the great ground and pillar of 
 security to the landed interest." Let us examine this idea. 
 
 What pillar of security does the landed interest require, more 
 than any other interest in the state, or what right has it to a 
 distinct representation from the general interest of a nation ? 
 The only use to be made of this power (and which it has always 
 made) is to ward off taxes from itself, and throw the burden 
 upon such articles of consumption by which itself would be 
 least affected.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 403 
 
 That this has been the consequence (and will always be the 
 consequence of constructing governments on combinations) 
 is evident, with respect to England, from the history of its 
 taxes. 
 
 Notwithstanding taxes have increased and mutiplied upon 
 every article of common consumption, the land tax. which 
 more particularly affects this "pillar," has diminished. In 
 1788, the amount of the land-tax was 1,950,000, which is half 
 a million less than it produced almost a hundred years ago, 
 notwithstanding the rentals are in many instances doubled since 
 that period. 
 
 Before the coming of the Hanoverians, the taxes were divided 
 in nearly equal proportions between the land and articles of 
 consumption, the land bearing rather the largest share; but 
 since that era, nearly thirteen millions annually of new taxes 
 have been thrown upon consumption. The consequence of 
 which has been a constant increase in the number and 
 wretchedness of the poor, and in the amount of the poor-rates. 
 Yet here again the burden does not fall in equal proportion on 
 the aristocracy with the rest of the community. Their resi- 
 dences, whether in town or country, are not mixed with the 
 habitations of the poor. They live apart from distress, and the 
 expense of relieving it. It is in manufacturing towns and 
 laboring villages that those burthens press the heaviest; in 
 many of which it is one class of poor supporting another. 
 
 Several of the most heavy and productive taxes are so con- 
 trived, as to give an exemption to this pillar, thus standing in 
 its own defence. The tax upon beer brewed for sale does not 
 affect the aristocracy, who brew their own beer free of this 
 duty. It falls only on those who have not convenience or 
 ability to brew, and who must purchase it in small quantities. 
 But what will mankind think of the justice of taxation, when 
 they know, that this tax alone, from which the aristocracy are 
 from circumstances exempt, is nearly equal to the whole of the 
 laud-tax, being in the year 1788, and it is not less now, 1,666,- 
 15.!, and with its proportion of the taxes on malt and hops, it 
 exceeds it. That a single article thus partially consumed, and 
 that chiefly by the working part, should be subject to a tax 
 equal to that on the whole rental of a nation, is, perhaps, a fact 
 not to be paralleled in the history of revenues. 
 
 This is one of the consequences resulting from a house of leg- 
 islation, composed on the ground of a combination of common
 
 4-04 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 interest; for whatever their separate politics as to parties may 
 be, in this they are united. Whether a combination acts to 
 raise the price of an article for sale, or the rate of wages; or 
 whether it acts to throw taxes from itself upon another class of 
 the community, the principle and the effect are the same: and 
 if the one be illegal, it will be difficult to show that the other 
 ought to exist. 
 
 It is no use t^ say, that taxes are first proposed in the house 
 of commons ; for as the other house has always a negative, it 
 can always defend itself ; and it would be ridiculous to suppose 
 that its acquiesence in the measures to be proposed were not 
 understood beforehand. Besides which, it has obtained so much 
 influence by borough traffic, and so many of its relations and 
 connexions are distributed on both sides of the commons, as to 
 give it, besides an absolute negative in the house, a preponder- 
 ancy in the other, in all matters of common concern. 
 
 It is difficult to discover what is meant by the landed interest, 
 if it does not mean a combination of aristocratical land-holders, 
 opposing their own pecuniary interest to that of the farmer, 
 and every branch of trade, commerce, and manufacture. In all 
 other respects, it is the only interest that needs no partial pro- 
 tection. It enjoys the general protection of the world. Every 
 individual, high or low, is interested in the fruits of the earth; 
 men, women and children, of all ages and degrees, will turn out 
 to assist the farmer, rather than a harvest should not be got in; 
 and they will not act thus by any other property. It is the only 
 one for which the common prayer of mankind is put up, and 
 the only one that can never fail from the want of means. It 
 is the interest, not of the policy, but of the existence of man, 
 and when it ceases, he must cease to be. 
 
 No other interest in a nation stands on the same united sup- 
 port. Commerce, manufactures, arts, sciences, and everything 
 else, compared with this are supported but in parts. Their 
 prosperity or their decay has not the same universal influence. 
 When the valleys laugh and sing, it is not the farmer only, but 
 all creation that rejoices. It is a prosperity that excludes all 
 envy; and this cannot be said of anything else. 
 
 Why then does Mr. Burke talk of his house of peers, as the 
 pillar of the landed interest? Were that pillar to sink into 
 the earth, the same landed property would continue, and the 
 same plowing, sowing, and reaping would go on. The aristo- 
 cracy are not the farmers who -work the land, and raise the
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 405 
 
 produce, but are the mere consumers of the rent; and when 
 compared with the active world, are the drones, a seraglio of 
 males, who neither collect the honey nor form the hive, but exist 
 only for lazy enjoyment. 
 
 Mr. Burke, in his first essay, called aristocracy, " the corinth- 
 ian capital of polished society." Towards completing the figure, 
 he has now added the pillar, but still the base is wanting ; and 
 whenever the nation chooses to act a Samson, not a blind, but 
 bold, down goes the Temple of Dagon, the lords and the Philis- 
 tines. 
 
 If a house of legislation is to be composed of men of one class, 
 for the purpose of protecting a distinct interest, all the other 
 interests should have the same. The inequality as well as the 
 burden of taxation, arises from admitting it in one case and 
 not in all. Had there been a house of farmers, there had been 
 no game laws; or a house of merchants and manufacturers, the 
 taxes had neither been so unequal nor so excessive. It is from 
 the power of taxation being in the hands of those who can 
 throw so great a part of it from their own shoulders, that it has 
 naged without a check. 
 
 Men of small or moderate estates, are more injured by the 
 taxes being thrown on articles of consumption, than they are 
 eased by warding it from landed property, for the following 
 reasons: 
 
 1st, They consume more of the productive taxable articles, 
 in proportion to their property, than those of large estates. 
 
 2nd, Their residence is chiefly in towns, and their property 
 in houses; and the increase of the poor-rates, occasioned by 
 taxes on consumption, is in much greater proportion than the 
 land-tax has been favored. In Birmingham the poor-rates 
 are not less than seven shillings in the pound. From this, 
 as is already observed, the aristocracy are in a great measure 
 exempt. 
 
 These are but a part of the mischiefs flowing from the wretched 
 scheme of a house of peers. 
 
 As a combination, it can always throw a considerable portion 
 of taxes from itself; as an hereditary house, accountable to no- 
 body, it resembles a rotten borough, whose consent is to be 
 courted by interest. There are but few of its members who 
 are not in some mode or other participators or disposers of the 
 public money. One turns a candle-holder or a lord-in-waiting; 
 another a lord of the bed-chamber, a groom of the stole, or any
 
 406 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 insignificant nominal office, to which a salary is annexed, paid 
 out of the public taxes, and which avoids the direct appearance 
 of corruption. Such situations are derogatory to the character 
 of a man; and where they can be submitted to, honor cannot 
 reside. 
 
 To all these are to be added the numerous dependants, the 
 long list of the younger branches and distant relations, who are 
 to be provided for at the public expense: in short, were an estima- 
 tion to be made of the charge of the aristocracy to a nation, it 
 will be found nearly equal to that of supporting the poor. 
 The Duke of Richmond alone (and there are cases similar to his) 
 takes away as much for himself as would maintain two thou- 
 sand poor and aged persons. Is it, then, any wonder that under 
 such a system of government, taxes and rates have multiplied to 
 their present extent ? 
 
 In stating these matters, I speak an open and disinterested 
 language, dictated by no passion but that of humanity. To me, 
 who have not only refused offers because I thought them im- 
 proper, but have declined rewards I might with reputation 
 have accepted, it is no wonder that meanness and imposition 
 appear disgusting. Independence is my happiness, and I view 
 things as they are, without regard to place or person; my 
 country is the world, and my religion is to do good. 
 
 Mr. Burke, in speaking of the aristocratical law of primogeni- 
 ture, says, "It is the standard law of our landed inheritance; 
 and which, without question, has a tendency, and I think," 
 continues he, "a happy tendency, to preserve a character of 
 weight and consequence." 
 
 Mr. Burke may call this law what he pleases, but humanity 
 and impartial reflection will pronounce it a law of brutal in- 
 justice. Were we not accustomed to the daily practice, and 
 did we only hear of it as the law of some distant part of the 
 world, we should conclude that the legislators of such countries 
 had not arrived at a state of civilization. 
 
 As to preserving a character of weight and consequence the 
 case appears to me directly the reverse. It is an attaint upon 
 character; a sort of privateering upon family property. It 
 may have weight among dependent tenants, but it gives none 
 on a scale of national, and much less of universal character. 
 Speaking for myself, my parents were not able to give me a 
 shilling beyond what they gave me in education ; and to do this 
 they distressed themselves ; yet I possess more of what is called
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 407 
 
 consequence, in the world, than any one in Mr. Burke's cata- 
 logue of aristocrats. 
 
 Having thus glanced at some of the defects of the two houses 
 of parliament, I proceed to what is called the crown, upon 
 which I shall he very concise. 
 
 It signifies a nominal office of a million sterling a-year, the 
 business of which consists in receiving the money. Whether 
 the person be wise or foolish, sane or insane, a native or a 
 foreigner, matters not. Every ministry acts upon the same 
 idea that Mr. Burke writes, namely, that the people must be 
 hoodwinked, and held in superstitious ignorance by some bug- 
 bear or other; and what is called the crown answers this pur- 
 pose, and therefore it answers all the purposes to be expected 
 from it. This is more than can be said of the other two 
 branches. 
 
 The hazard to which this office is exposed in all countries, is 
 not from anything that can happen to the man, but from what 
 may happen to the nation ; the danger of its coming to its 
 
 It has been customary to call the crown the executive power, 
 and the custom has continued, though the reason has ceased. 
 
 It was called the executive, because he whom it signified used 
 formerly to sit in the character of a judge, in administering or 
 executing the laws. The tribunals were then a part of the 
 court. The power, therefore, which is now called the judicial, 
 was what is called the executive; and, consequently, one or the 
 other of the terms is redundant, and one of the offices useless. 
 When we speak of the crown now, it means nothing ; it signi- 
 fies neither a judge nor a general : besides which, it is the laws 
 that govern, and not the man. The old terms are kept up, and 
 give an appearance of consequence to empty forms : and the only 
 effect they have is that of increasing expenses. 
 
 Before I proceed to the means of rendering governments 
 more conducive to the general happiness of mankind than 
 they are at present, it will not be improper to take a review of 
 the progress of taxation in England. 
 
 It is a general idea, that when taxes are once laid on, they 
 are never taken off. However true this may have been of late, 
 it was not always so. Either, therefore, the people of former 
 times were more watchful over government than those of the 
 present, or government was administered with less extravagance. 
 
 It is now seven hundred years since the Norman conquest,
 
 408 RIG11TS OF MAN. 
 
 and the establishment of what is called the crown. Taking this 
 portion of time in seven separate periods of one hundred years 
 each, the amount of the annual taxes, at each period, will be 
 as follows : 
 
 Annual amount of taxes levied by William the Conqueror, begin- 
 ning in the year 1066 400,000 
 
 Annual amount of taxes at one hundred years from th conquest, 
 
 (1166) 200,000 
 
 Annual amount of taxes at two hundred years from the conquest, 
 
 (1266) 150,000 
 
 Annual amount of taxes at three hundred years from the conquest, 
 
 (1366) 130,000 
 
 Annual amount of taxes at four hundred years from the conquest, 
 
 (1466) 100,000 
 
 These statements, and those which follow, are taken from Sir 
 John Sinclair's "History of the Revenue/' by which it appears, 
 that taxes continued decreasing for four hundred years, at the 
 expiration of which time they were reduced three-fourths, viz., 
 from four hundred thousand pounds to one hundred thousand. 
 The people of England, of the present day, have a traditionary 
 and historical idea of the bravery of their ancestors ; but what- 
 ever their virtues or vices might have been, they certainly were 
 a people who would not be imposed upon, and who kept govern- 
 ment in awe as to taxation, if not as to principle. Though 
 they were not able to expel $he monarchical usurpation, they 
 restricted it to a public economy of taxes. 
 
 Let us now review the remaining three hundred years. 
 
 Annual amount of taxes at five hundred years from the conquest, 
 
 (1566) 500,000 
 
 Annual amount of taxes at six hundred years from the conquest, 
 
 (1B66) 1,800,000. 
 
 Annual amount of taxes at the present time, (1791) 17,000,000 
 
 The difference between the first four hundred years and 
 the last three, is so astonishing, as to warrant the opinion, that 
 the national character of the English has changed. It would 
 have been impossible to have dragooned the former English 
 into the excess of taxation that now exists ; and when it is con- 
 sidered that the pay of the army, the navy, and of all the rev- 
 enue-officers, is the same now as it was above a hundred years 
 ago, when the taxes were not above a tenth part of what they 
 are at present, it appears impossible to account for the enormous
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 409 
 
 increase and expenditure on any other ground than extrava- 
 gauce, corruption, and intrigue.* 
 
 With the revolution of 1688, and more so since the Hanover 
 succession, came the destructive system of continental intrigues, 
 and the rage for foreign wars and foreign dominion ; systems 
 of such secure mystery, that the expenses admit of no accounts ; 
 a single line stands for millions. To what excess taxation 
 might have extended, had not the French revolution cftntri- 
 buted to break up the system, and put an end to pretences, is 
 impossible to say. Viewed as that revolution ought to be, as 
 the fortunate means of lessening the load of taxes of both 
 
 * Several of the court newspapers have of late made frequent mention of 
 Wat Tyler. That his memory should be traduced by court sycophants, and 
 all those who live upon the spoil of a public, is not to be wondered at. He 
 was, however, the means of checking the rage and injustice of taxation in 
 his time, and the nation owed much to his valor. The history is concisely 
 this : In the time of Kichard II. a poll-tax was levied of one shilling per 
 head upon every person in the nation, of whatever class or condition, on 
 poor as well as rich, above the age of fifteen years. If any favor was shown 
 in the law it was to the rich rather than the poor ; as no person could be 
 charged more than twenty shillings for himself, family, and servants, though 
 ever so numerous while all other families, under the number of twenty, 
 were charged per head. Poll-taxes had always been odious but this being 
 also oppressive and unjust, it excited, as it naturally must, universal detes- 
 tation among the poor and middle classes. The person known by the name 
 of Wat Tyler, ana whose proper name was Walter, and a tyler by trade, 
 lived at Deptford. The gatherer of the poll-tax on coming to his house, de- 
 manded a tax for one of his daughters, whom Tyler declared was under 
 the age of fifteen. The tax-gatherer insisted in satisfying himself, and began 
 an indecent examination of the girl, which enraging the father, he struck 
 him with a hammer, that brought him to the ground and was the cause of 
 his death. 
 
 The circumstance served to bring the discontents to an issue. The in- 
 habitants of the neighborhood espoused the cause of Tyler, who, in a few 
 days, was joined, according to some historians, by upwards of fifty thousand 
 men, and chosen their chief. With this force he marched to London, to de- 
 mand an abolition of the tax, and a redress of other grievances. The court, 
 finding itself in a forlorn condition, and unable to make resistance, agreed, 
 with Kichard at its head, to hold a conference with Tyler m Smithfield, 
 making many fair professions, courtier-like, of its disposition to redress the 
 oppressions. While Richard and Tyler were in conversation on these mat- 
 ters, each being on horseback, Walworth, then mayor of London, and one 
 of the creatures of the court, watched an opportunity, and, like a cowardly 
 assassin, stabbed Tyler with a dagger and two or three others falling upon 
 him, he was instantly sacrificed. 
 
 Tyler appears to have been an intrepid, disinterested man, with respect 
 to himself. All his proposals made to Richard were on a more just and 
 public ground than those which had been made to John by the barons ; and 
 notwithstanding the sycophancy of historians, and men like Mr. Burke, who 
 seek to gloss over a base action of the court by traducing Tyler, his fame 
 will outlive their falsehood. If the barons merited a monument to be erected 
 in Runneymede, Tyler merits one in Smithfield.
 
 410 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 countries, it is of as much importance to England as to France ; 
 and, if properly improved to all the advantages of which it is 
 capable, and to which it leads, deserves as much celebration in 
 the one country as the other. 
 
 In pursuing this subject, I shall begin with the matter that 
 first presents itself, that of lessening the burden of taxes; and 
 shall then add such matters and propositions, respecting the 
 three countries of England, France and America, as the present 
 prospect of things appears to justify; I mean an alliance of the 
 three, for the purposes that will be mentioned in their proper 
 places. 
 
 What has happened may happen again. By the statement 
 before shown, of the progress of taxation, it is seen that taxes 
 have been lessened to a fourth part of what they had formerly 
 been. Though the present circumstances do not admit of the 
 same reduction, yet they admit of such a beginning as may ac- 
 complish that end in less time than in the former case. 
 
 The amount of taxes for the year ending at Michaelmas, 
 1778, was as follows: 
 
 Land tax 1,950,000 
 
 Customs , 3,789,274 
 
 Excise (including old and new malt) 6,751,727 
 
 Stamps 1,278,214 
 
 Miscellaneous taxes and incident* 1,803,755 
 
 Total 15,572,970 
 
 Since the year 1788, upwards of one million, new taxes, 
 have been laid on, besides the produce of the lotteries; and as 
 the taxes have in general been more productive since than 
 before, the amount may be taken, in round numbers, at $17, 
 000,000. 
 
 N.B. The expense of collection and the drawbacks, which 
 together amount to nearly two millions, are paid out of the 
 gross amount; and the above is the net sum paid into the ex- 
 chequer. 
 
 The sum of seventeen millions is applied to two different 
 purposes; the one to pay the interest of the national debt, the 
 other to pay the current expenses of each year. About nine 
 millions are appropriated to the former; and the remainder, 
 being nearly eight millions, to the latter. As to the million, 
 said to be applied to the reduction of the debt, it is so much
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 41 1 
 
 like paying with one hand and taking ont with the other, as 
 not to merit much notice. 
 
 It happened fortunately for France that she possessed 
 national domains for paying off her debt, and thereby lessening 
 her taxes; but as this is not the case in England, her reduction 
 of taxes can only take place by reducing the current expenses, 
 which may now be done to the amount of four or five millions 
 annually, as will hereafter appear. When this is accomplished, 
 it will more than counterbalance the enormous charge of the 
 American war; and the saving will be from the same source 
 from whence the evil arose. 
 
 As to the national debt, however heavy the interest may be 
 in taxes, yet, as it seems to keep alive a capital, useful to com- 
 merce, it balances by its effects a considerable part of its own 
 weight; and as the quantity of gold and silver in England is, 
 by some means or other, short of its proper proportion,"* (being 
 not more than twenty millions, whereas it should be sixty,) it 
 would, besides the injustice, be bad policy to extinguish a capital 
 that serves to supply that defect. But, with respect to the 
 current expense, whatever is saved therefrom is gain'. The ex- 
 cess may serve to keep corruption alive, but it has no reaction 
 on credit and commerce, like the interest of the debt. 
 
 It is now very probable, that the English government (I do 
 not mean the nation) is unfriendly to the French revolution. 
 Whatever serves to expose the intrigue and lessen the influence 
 of courts, by lessening taxation, will be unwelcome to those 
 who feed upon the spoil. Whilst the clamor of French intrigue, 
 arbitrary power, popery, and wooden shoes could be kept up, 
 the nations were easily allured and alarmed into taxes. Those 
 clays are now past; deception, it is to be hoped, has reaped its 
 last harvest, and better times are in prospect for both countries 
 and for the world. 
 
 Taking it for granted that an alliance may be formed between 
 England, France and America, for the purposes hereafter to be 
 mentioned, the national expenses of France and England may 
 consequently be lessened. The same fleets and armies will ne 
 longer be necessary to either, and the reduction can be made 
 ship for ship on each side. But to accomplish these objects, 
 the governments must necessarily be fitted to a common cor- 
 respondent principle. Confidence can never take place while 
 
 * Foreign intrigues, foreign wars, and foreign dominions, will in a great 
 measure account for the deficiency.
 
 412 EIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 a hostile disposition remains in either, or where mystery and 
 secrecy on one side is opposed to candor and openness on the 
 other. 
 
 These matters admitted, the national expenses might be put 
 back, for the sake of a precedent, to what they were at some 
 period when France and England were not enemies. This, 
 consequently, must be prior to the Hanover succession, and also 
 to the revolution of 1688.* The first instance that presents 
 itself, antecedent to those dates, is in the very wasteful and 
 profligate time of Charles II., at which time England and 
 France acted as allies. If I have chosen a period of great ex- 
 travagance, it will serve to show modern extravagance in a still 
 worse light; especially, as the pay of the navy, the army, and 
 the revenue-officers has not increased since that time. 
 
 The peace establishment was then as follows: (See Sir John 
 Sinclair's "History of the Revenue.") 
 
 Navy 300,000 
 
 Army 212,000 
 
 Ordnance 40,000 
 
 Civil List 462,115 
 
 Total 1,014,115 
 
 The parliament, however, settled the whole annual peace 
 establishment at 1,200,000. f If we go back to the time of 
 Elizabeth, the amount of all the taxes was but half a million, yet 
 the nation sees nothing during that period, that reproaches it 
 with want of consequence. 
 
 * I happened to be in England at the celebration of the centenary of the 
 revolution of 1688. The characters of William and Mary have always ap- 
 peared to me detestable ; the one seeking to destroy his uncle, and the other 
 her father, to get possession of power themselves : yet, as the nation was 
 disposed to think something of .that event, I felt hurt at seeing it ascribe 
 the whole reputation of it to a man who had undertaken it as a job, and 
 who, besides what he otherwise got, charged six hundred thousand pounds 
 for the expense of the little fleet that brought him from Holland. George I. 
 acted the same close-fisted part as William had done, and bought the Duchy 
 of Bremen with the money he got from England, two hundred and fifty 
 thousand pounds over and above his pay as king; and having thus pur- 
 chased it at the expense of England, added to it his Hanover'an dominions 
 for his own private benefit. In fact, every nation that rli < not govern 
 itself, is governed as a job. England has been the prey of jo^s ever since 
 the revolution. 
 
 t Charles, like his predecessors and successors, finding that war was the 
 harvest of governments, engaged in a war with the Dutch, the expense of 
 which increased the annual expenditure to 1,800,000, as stated under the 
 date of 1666 ; but the peace establishment was but 1,200,000.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 413 
 
 All circumstances then taken together, arising from the 
 French revolution, from the approaching harmony and reciprocal 
 interest of the two nations, the abolition of court intrigue on 
 both sides, and the progress of knowledge in the science of gov- 
 ernment, the annual expenditure might be put back to one 
 million and a half, viz. : 
 
 Navy 500,000 
 
 Army 500,000 
 
 Expenses of government 500,000 
 
 Total 1,500,000 
 
 Even this sum is six times greater than the expenses of gov- 
 rnment are in America, yet the civil internal government of 
 England (I mean that administered by means of quarter sessions, 
 juries, and assize, and which, in fact, is nearly the whole, and 
 is performed by the nation), is less expense upon the revenue, 
 than the same species and portion of government is in America. 
 
 It is time that nations should be rational, and not be gov- 
 erned like animals for the pleasure of their riders. To read the 
 history of kings, a man would be almost inclined to suppose that 
 government consisted in stag-hunting, and that every nation 
 paid a million a-year to the huntsman. Man ought to have 
 pride or shame enough to blush at being thus imposed upon, and 
 when he feels his proper character he will. Upon all subjects 
 of this nature, there is often passing in the mind a train of ideas 
 he has not yet accustomed himself to encourage and communi- 
 cate. Restrained by something that puts on the character of 
 prudence, he acts the hypocrite to himself as well as to others. 
 It is, however, curious to observe how soon this spell can be 
 dissolved. A single expression, boldly conceived and uttered, 
 will sometimes put a whole company into their proper feelings, 
 and a whole nation are acted upon in the same manner. 
 
 As to the offices of which any civil government may be com- 
 posed, it matters but little by what names they are described. 
 In the routine of business, as before observed, whether a man 
 be styled a president, a king, an emperor, a senator, or anything 
 else, it is impossible that any service he can perform, can merit 
 from a nation more than ten thousand pounds a-year ; and as no 
 man should be paid beyond his services, so every man of a pro- 
 per heart will not accept more. Public money ought to be 
 touched with the most scrupulous consciousness of honor. It is 
 not the produce of riches only, but of the hard earnings of labor
 
 414 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 and po eerty . It is drawn even from the bitterness of want and 
 misery. Not a beggar passes, or perishes in the streets, whose 
 mite is not in that mass. 
 
 Were it possible that the congress of America, could be so 
 lost to their duty, and to the interest of their constituents, as to 
 offer General Washington, as president of America, a million 
 a-year, he would not, and he could not accept it. His sense of 
 honor is of another kind. It has cost England almost seventy 
 millions sterling to maintain a family imported from abroad, of 
 very inferior capacity to thousands in the nation ; and scarcely 
 a year has passed that has not produced some mercenary appli- 
 cation. Even the physicians' bills have been sent to the public 
 to be paid. No wonder that jails are crowded, and taxes and 
 poor-rates increased. Under such systems, nothing is to be 
 looked for but what has already happened; and as to reforma- 
 tion, whenever it comes, it must be from the nation, and not 
 from the government. 
 
 To show that the sum of five hundred thousand pounds is 
 more than sufficient to defray all the expenses of government, 
 exclusive of navies and armies, the following estimate is added 
 for any country of the same extent as England. 
 
 In the first place, three hundred representatives, fairly elected, 
 are sufficient for all the purposes to which legislation can apply, 
 and preferable to a large number. They may be divided into 
 two, or three houses, or meet in one, as in France, or in any 
 manner a constitution shall direct. 
 
 As representation is always considered, in free countries, as 
 the most honorable of all stations, the allowance made to it is 
 merely to defray the expenses which the representatives incur 
 by that service, and not to it as an office. 
 
 If an allowance at the rate of five hundred pounds per annum 
 be made to every representative, deducting for non-attend- 
 ance, the expense, if the whole number attended for six 
 months each year, would be 75,000 
 
 The official departments cannot reasonably exceed the follow- 
 ing number, with the salaries annexed : 
 
 Three offices, at ten thousand pounds each 30,000 
 
 Ten ditto, at five thousand pounds each 50,000 
 
 Twenty ditto, at two thousand pounds each 40,000 
 
 Forty ditto, at one thousand pounds each . . . . 40,000 
 
 Two hundred ditto, at five hundred pounds each . 
 Three hundred ditto, at two hundred pounds each 
 Five hundred ditto, at one hundred pounds each . 
 Seven hundred ditto, at seventy-five pounds each . 
 
 100,000 
 60,000 
 50,000 
 62,500 
 
 TOTAL .... . 497.500
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 415 
 
 If a nation chooses, it can deduct four per cent, from all 
 offices, and make one of twenty thousand per annum. 
 
 All revenue-officers are paid out of the moneys they collect, 
 and therefore, are not included in this estimation. 
 
 The foregoing is not offered as an exact detail of offices, but 
 to show the number and rate of salaries which five hundred 
 thousand pounds will support ; and it will, on experience, be 
 found impracticable to find business sufficient to justify even 
 this expense. As to the manner in which office business is now 
 performed, the chiefs in several offices, such as the post-office, 
 and certain offices in the exchequer, &c., do little more than 
 sign their names three or four times a year ; and the whole 
 duty is performed by under clerks. 
 
 Taking, therefore, one million and a half as a sufficient peace 
 establishment for all the honest purposes of government, which 
 is three hundred thousand pounds more than the peace estab- 
 lishment in the profligate and prodigal times of Charles II. 
 (notwithstanding, as has been already observed, the pay and 
 salaries of the army, navy, and revenue-officers, continue the 
 same as at that period), there will remain a surplus of upwards 
 of six millions out of the present current expenses. The ques- 
 tion then will be, how to dispose of this surplus. 
 
 Whoever has observed the manner in which trade and taxes 
 twist themselves together, must be sensible of the impossibility 
 of separating them suddenly. 
 
 1st, Because the articles now on hand are already charged 
 with the duty, and the reduction cannot take place on the pre- 
 sent stock. 
 
 2nd, Because, on all those articles on which the duty is 
 charged in the gross, such as per barrel, hogshead, hundred- 
 weight, or ton, the abolition of the duty does not admit of being 
 divided down so as fully to relieve the consumer, who purchases 
 by the pint, or the pound. The last duty laid on strong 
 beer and ale, was three shillings per barrel, which, if taken off, 
 would lessen the purchase only half a farthing per pint, and 
 consequently would not reach to practical relief. 
 
 This being the condition of a greater part of the taxes, it will 
 be necessary to look for such others as are free from this em- 
 barrassment, and where the relief will be direct and visible, 
 and capable of immediate operation. 
 
 In the first place, then, the poor-rates are a direct tax which 
 every housekeeper feels, and who knows also, to a farthing, the
 
 416 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 sum which he pays. The national amount of the whole of the 
 poor-rates is not positively known, but can be procured. Sir 
 John Sinclair, in his "History of the Revenue," has stated it 
 at 2,100,587, a considerable part of which is expended in 
 litigations, in which the poor, instead of being relieved, are 
 tormented. The expense, however, is the same to the parish, 
 from whatever cause it arises. 
 
 In Birmingham, the amount of the poor-rates is fourteen 
 thousand pounds a year. This, though a large sum, is mode- 
 rate compared with the population. Birmingham is said to 
 contain seventy thousand souls, and on a proportion of seventy 
 thousand to fourteen thousand pounds poor-rates, the national 
 amount of poor-rates, taking the population of England at seven 
 millions, would be but one million four hundred thousand pounds. 
 It is, therefore, most probable, that the population of Birming- 
 ham is over-rated. Fourteen thousand pounds is the propor- 
 tion upon fifty thousand souls, taking two millions of poor- 
 rates as the national amount. 
 
 Be it, however, what it may, it is no other than the conse- 
 quence of the excessive burden of taxes, for, at the time when the 
 taxes were very low, the poor were able to maintain themselves; 
 and there were no poor-rates.* In the present state of things, a 
 laboring man, with a wife and two or three children, does not pay 
 less than between seven and eight pounds a year in taxes. He 
 is not sensible of this, because it is disguised to him in the articles 
 which he buys, and he thinks only of their dearness ; but as the 
 taxes take from him, at least, a fourth part of his yearly earn- 
 ings, he is consequently disabled from providing for a family, 
 especially if himself, or any of them, are afflicted with sickness. 
 
 The first step, therefore, of practical relief, would be to abolish 
 the poor-rates entirely, and, in lieu thereof, to make a remis- 
 sion of taxes to the poor to double the amount of the present 
 poor-rates, viz., four millions annually out of the surplus taxes. 
 By this measure the poor would be benefited two millions arid 
 the housekeepers two millions. This alone would be equal to 
 the reduction of one hundred and twenty millions of the 
 national debt, and consequently equal to the whole expense of 
 the American war. 
 
 It will then remain to be considered which is the most effec- 
 tual mode of distributing the remission of four millions. 
 
 * Poor-rat.es began about the time of Henry VIII., when taxea began to 
 increase, and they have increased as the taxes increased ever since.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 417 
 
 It is easily seen that the poor are generally composed of large 
 families of children, and old people unable to labor. If these 
 two classes are provided for, che remedy will so far reach to 
 the full extent of the case, that what remains will be incidental, 
 and, in a great measure, fall within the compass of benefit 
 clubs, which, though of humble invention, merit to be ranked 
 among the best of modern institutions. 
 
 Admitting England to contain seven millions of souls ; if one 
 fifth thereof are of that class of poor which need support, the 
 number will be one million four hundred thousand. Of this 
 number, one hundred and forty thousand will be aged and poor, 
 as will be hereafter shown, and for which a distinct provision 
 will be proposed. 
 
 There will then remain one million two hundred and sixty 
 thousand, which, at five souls to each family, amount to two 
 hundred and fifty-two thousand families, rendered poor from 
 the expense of children and the weight of taxes. 
 
 The number of children under fourteen years of age, in each 
 of those families, will be found to be five to every two families ; 
 some having two, others three; some one, and others four; 
 some none, and others five; but it rarely happens that more 
 than five are under fourteen years of age, and after this age 
 tl> " 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, <fec., is prevented getting forward the whole of his life, 
 from the want of a little common education when a boy. 
 
 I now proceed to the case of the aged. 
 
 I divide age into two classes. 1st, the approach of old age, 
 beginning at fifty: 2nd, old age, commencing at sixty. 
 
 At fifty, though the mental faculties of man are in full vigor, 
 and his judgment better than at any preceding date, the bodily 
 powers are on the decline. He cannot bear the same quantity 
 of fatigue as at an earlier period. He begins to earn less, and 
 is less capable of enduring the wind and weather ; and in those 
 retired employments where much sight is required, he fails 
 apace, and feels himself like an old horse, beginning to be 
 turned adrift. 
 
 At sixty, his labor ought to be over, at least from direct 
 necessity. It is painful to see old age working itself to death, 
 in what are called civilized countries, for its daily bread. 
 
 To form some judgment of the number of those above fifty 
 years of age, I have several times counted the persons I met in 
 the streets of London, men, women and children, and have 
 generally found that the average is one in about sixteen or 
 seventeen. If it be said that aged persons do not come much 
 into the streets, so neither do infants; and a great proportion 
 of grown children are in schools, and in the work-shops as 
 apprentices. Taking then sixteen for a divisor, the whole num- 
 ber of persons in England, of fifty years and upwards, of both 
 sexes, rich and poor, will be four hundred and twenty thousand. 
 
 The persons to be provided for out of this gross number will 
 be, husbandmen, common laborers, journeymen of every trade, 
 and their wives, sailors, and disbanded soldiers, worn out ser- 
 vants of both sexes, and poor widows. 
 
 There will also be a considerable number of middling trades 
 men, who, having lived decently in the former part of life, 
 begin, as age approaches, to lose thoir business, and at last fall 
 into decay.
 
 RIGHTS OF MAN. 41H 
 
 Besides these, there will be constantly thrown off from the 
 revolutions of that wheel which no man can stop nor regulate, 
 a number from every class of life connected with commerce and 
 adventure. 
 
 To provide for all those accidents, and whatever else may 
 befall, I take the number of persons who at one time or other 
 of their lives, after fifty years of age, may feel it necessary or 
 comfortable to be better supported than they can support them- 
 selves, and that not as a matter of grace and favor, but of right, 
 at one-third of the whole number, which is one hundred and 
 forty thousand, as stated p. 417, and for whom a distinct pro- 
 vision was proposed to be made. If there be more, society, 
 notwithstanding the show and pomposity of government, is in 
 a deplorable condition in England. 
 
 Of this one hundred and forty thousand, I take one half, 
 seventy thousand, to be of the age of fifty and under sixty, and 
 the other half to be sixty years and upwards. Having thus 
 ascertained the probable proportion of the number of aged, I 
 proceed to the mode of rendering their condition comfortable, 
 which is, 
 
 To pay to every such person of the age of fifty years, and until 
 he shall arrive at the age of sixty, the sum of six pounds per 
 annum out of the surplus taxes; and ten pounds per annum 
 during life, after the age of sixty. The expense of which will 
 be, 
 
 Seventy thousand persons at 6 per annum .... 420.000 
 Seventy thousand persons at 10 per annum .... 700,000 
 
 Total 1,120,000 
 
 This support, as already remarked, is not of the nature of 
 charity, but of a right. Eveiy person in England, male and 
 female, pays on an average in taxes two pounds eight shillings 
 and sixpence per annum from the day of his (or her) birth ; 
 and if the expense of collection be added, he pays two pounds 
 eleven shillings and sixpence; consequently, at the end of fifty 
 years, he has paid one hundred and twenty-eight pounds fifteen 
 shillings; and at sixty, one hundred and fifty -four pounds ten 
 shillings. Converting, therefqre, his (or her) individual tax 
 into a tontine, the money he shall receive after fifty years, is 
 but little more than the legal interest of the net money he has 
 paid ; the rest is made up from those whose circumstances do 
 not require them to draw such support, and the capital in both
 
 420 RIGHTS OF MAN. 
 
 cases defrays tne expenses of government. It is on this ground 
 that I have extended the probable claims to one-third of the 
 number of aged persons in the nation. Is it then better that 
 the lives of one hundred and forty thousand aged persons be 
 rendered comfortable, or that a million a-year of public money 
 be expended on any one individual, and he often of the most 
 worthless and insignificant character 1 Let reason and justice, 
 let honor and humanity, let even hypocrisy, sycophancy, and 
 Mr. Burke, let George, let Louis, Leopold, Frederic, Catherine, 
 Cornwallis, or Tippo Saib, answer the question.* 
 The sum thus remitted to the poor will be, 
 
 To two hundred and Pfty-two thousand poor families, containing 
 
 six hundred and thirty thousand children 2,520,000 
 
 To one hundred and forty thousand aged persons 1,120,000 
 
 Total 3,640,000 
 
 There will then remain three hundred and sixty thousand 
 pounds out of the four millions, part of which may be applied 
 as follows: 
 
 After all the above cases are provided for, there will still be 
 a number of families who, though not properly of the class of 
 poor, yet find it difficult to give education to their children; 
 and such children, under such a case, would be in a worse con- 
 dition than if their parents were actually poor. A nation under 
 a well regulated government, should permit none to remain un- 
 instructed. It is monarchical and aristocratical governments 
 only that require ignorance for their support. 
 
 * Reckoning the taxes by families, five to a family, each family pays on 
 an average 12 17s. 6d. per annum, to this sum are to be added the poor- 
 rates. Though all pay taxes in the articles they consume, all do not pay 
 poor-rates. About two millions are exempted, some as not being house- 
 keepers, others as not being able, and the poor themselves who receive the 
 relief. The average therefore of poor-rates on the remaining number, is 
 forty shillings for every family of five persons, which makes the whole aver- 
 age amount >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. 
 
 ETO OP THE RIGHTS OF MAN.
 
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