' t Yale University Library 39002008458177 ™^ ¦jCj&r^ 2^0 THE LIFE THOMAS PAINE, author of "COMMON SENSE," "RIGHTS OF MAN," "AGE OP REASON," &c, &e. WITH CRITICAL AKD EXPLANATORY OBSERVATIONS ON HIS "WRITINGS; AN APPENDIX, CONTAINING HIS LETTERS TO WASHINGTON, SUPPRESSED IN HIS WORKS AT PRESENT PUBLISHED IN THIS COUNTRY-. BY G. VALE, EDITOR OF THE BEACON. NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR, I BEACON OFFICE, 84 ROSEVELT ST. 1841. PREFACE. There are four lives of Mr. Thomas Paine now extant ; but none in print in the United States. Francis Oldys, or a person under that name, wrote a life of Mr. Paine about the year 1792, while Mr. Paine was yet alive, and active in the prog ress of the French Revolution. This life was written in fact by George Chalmers, one of the clerks of the Board of Plant' ation, at the instigation of Lord Hawksbury, afterward Lord Liverpool, for which he gave him five hundred pounds. Mr, Chalmers acknowledged the authorship of this book. This we have never seen ; it has sunk into oblivion ; it partly served the political purpose for which it was written, but the enemies of Mr. Paine and the Rights of Man were too prudent to en dorse its acknowledged calumnies, and identify themselves with this transaction. Immediately after the death of Paine, Cheetham wrote his life in 1809. Cheetham was an Englishman and had been a zealous disciple of Paine, both in politics and religion ; but he had retrogaded in politics, and deserted the principles of the democratic party ; Paine had attacked him with his accus tomed force, and thus converted him into a personal enemy. Mr. Cheetham at this time edited a party paper (the Citizen) in New York, and while he was yet smarting under the lash of Paine, heated by party politics, and fired with revenge, like the ass in the fable, he kicked, not indeed the dying, but the dead lion, by writing the life of his adversary. Cheet-> 4 PREFACE. ham, however, connected this with a scheme of interest ; for, becoming the. deadly enemy of democracy, and losing the support of his old friends (for he was turned out of the Tam many society), he was preparing to go to Europe, and enlist in support of the tory government in England, by publishing a paper opposed to Cobbett, who had just come out in opposi tion to the government ; and Cheetham apparently meant this life of Paine as a passport to the British treasury favor : at least, such was the opinion of the intimate friend of Cheet ham, Mr. Charles Christian, who gave this relation to Mr. John Fellows and others, whom we have seen, and from whom we have learned this fact. This life of Paine, the only one published in the United States, abounds in calumnies, and af ter a lapse of some years caused the production of two other lives, one by Clio Rickman, the intimate friend of Mr. Paine for many years, and another by Mr. W. T. Sherwin, both pub lished in London. Mr. Rickman was an excellent, amiable man, of the jjjiak^gr profession, with whom Mr. Paine lived both in England and France, af different periods, and with whom he kept up a constant correspondence. The life of Paine, however, by Mr. Rickman, is sullied by a little vanity ; he is to Paine, what Boswell was to Johnson. We are indebt ed to Mr. Rickman for many facts on which we can rely ; but with the best intentions he was not the man to do Mr. Paine justice. The best life of Paine before published, is that of Sherwin ; and from this life we shall freely extract. But Mr. Sherwin is incorrect on some points, and his whole work is so exclu sively adapted to a London reader, that it is deteriorated for this market. Mr. Paine changed public opinion in favor of a republic at the time of the Revolution ; his earliest en ergies were in favor of American liberty ; it was here that his mighty powers were first developed, and here his political principles took root. His success in the United Statesbrought him out in Europe ; and his " Rights of Man," which shook the corrupt government of England, and endeared him to all France and every friend of liberty, was based upon his " Com mon Sense," which had concentrated public opinion in favor of a declaration of independence. And when the buds of PREFACE. 5 liberty were nipped in England and France, to this country Mr. Paine retired, as his proper home, at the invitation of JeffeTson, then the president, and avowedly the greatest and best statesman this country has known. And here, too, he died in peace, in a good old age, the firm and consistent friend of liberty. To this country, then, in a special manner belongs his life ; here are his most numerous friends and personal ac quaintances ; it is here that the calumnies propagated by Cheetham may be effectually rebutted, by living witnesses yet in the sound possession of their faculties ; and it is here that Paine can be identified with every crisis in the glorious Revolution which gave birth to this nation, which has set the glorious example of republicanism, whose principles are now progressing in the world. The want of a life thus identifying Mr. Paine with the glories of our Revolution, is our apology for our present undertaking. The life of Paine by Cheetham has had a considerable influence ; for though his calumnies are palpable, and his mo tives in publishing them apparent, he has given to them a de gree of credibility by the free use of names, which the reader necessarily concludes are respectable references for the facts he has stated ; fortunately, however, a public trial, in which he was convicted of libel, showed the shallow foundation on which his slander rested, and our acquaintance with some of the persons to whom he refers, enables us flatly to contradict these statements, and to denounce him on the very authority of many of his references as the utterer of gross falsehoods, to which he attached without their consent their names. With much ingenuity he relates a slander as a matter of fact, as if there were abundance of evidence, and apparently refers to the only source of this slander, as if this formed but a small part 'of his proof. Thus he declared Madame Bonne ville to be the mistress of T. Paine, as if that fact were no- j torious ; he produces no proof, but inserts a letter from Mr. W. Carver, written in anger, after a quarrel, in which such an insinuation is made, merely from the fact of that lady bringing [ her family to America, and leaving her husband in France. . Madame Bonneville prosecuted Cheetham for this assertion, \ and Cheetham on that trial produced no other evidence than 6 PREFACE. Carver and his angry letter. His counsel admitted the false ness of the charge, and pleaded only the insinuation in Car ver's letter as justifying Cheetham as an historian to repeat the slander, This trial expited great interest at the time. The press generally reported it ; and the brief facts with the counsel's speech have been preserved in a pamphlet form, from which pamphlet we shall give the introduction and a few extracts as pertinent to our object;-™ [THE INTRODUCTION.] " One James Cheetham, a man who had once been an editor of a republican paper in New York, had abandoned his past professions, and become the advocate of the British party in America. Among other means tp serve them, he undertook to write the life of Thomas Paine, author of Common Sense,' ' Rights of Man,' &c, &c. In this biography, he introduced the name of Madame Bonneville, a virtuous and respectable lady, the wife of N. Bonneville of Paris. He charged her with prostitution ; said Paine was her paramour, and that one of her sons had the features, countenance, and temper of Thomas Paine. For this atrocious attack on the character of Madame Bonneville, and outrage to her feelings, Mr. Cheet ham was indicted for a libel, and on the 19th of June, 1810, his trial was brpught on. The counsel for the libeller took two grounds of defence : 1st. That the facts charged were true. 2d. That the defendant was an historian, and, as such, had a right to publish what he had heard and believed, though it reflected on an innocent person. The first position w?.^, after a contemptible effort to support it, abandoned even by the libeller's, counsel, They were ashamed of it themselves. Several ladies of the first distinc tion, whose daughters had been intrusted to the care of Mad ame Bonneville, to learn the French language, appeared in court, and attested to the unblemished character of this much- injured female, The counsel for the libeller than had recourse to their last ground, and strenuously maintained the principle they had laid down. They perhaps felt confidence in the court, as it had, in an early stage of the trial, intimated an opinion favor able to the new and extravagant pretension, which set up a libeller under the title of an historian. Nor was this confi dence misplaced. Mr. Recorder Hoffman directed the jury, that if they should be of opinion, that Mr. Cheetham had PREFACE. 7 been informed of what he wrote, and believed it, he was justi fied, and that, though Madame Bonneville was an innocent woman, they were authorized to acquit Mr. Cheetham. He also read the letter of a man, by the name of Carver, as a justification of the libeller, though his counsel had not men tioned it. This monstrous doctrine, which leads to the prostration of private reputation, if not to the dissolution of civil society, was promptly rejected by the jury, although composed of men of different political sentiments, who returned in a few min utes a verdict of guilty. The court, however, when the libeller Came up the next day to receive his sentence, highly commended the book which contained the libellous publication, declared that it tended to serve the cause of religion, and imposed no other punishment on the libeller, than the payment of two hundred and fifty dollars, with a direction that the costs be taken out of it. It is fit to remark, lest foreigners who are unacquainted with our political condition, should receive erroneous impres sions, that Mr. Recorder Hoffman does not belong to what is called the republican party in America, but has been elevated to office by men in hostility to it, who obtained a temporary ascendency in the councils of the state." EXTRACTS FROM MR. SAMPSON'S SPEECH ON THE TRIAL OF MR. JAMES CHEETHAM, FOR A LIBEL ON MRS. MARGARET BONNEVILLE, IN HIS LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. " In every other grief than that which this historian has in flicted on heT the innocent find comfort ; for innocence is in all other wrongs, against all other strokes of man's injustice or oppression, a sevenfold shield. Not so where woman's honor is assailed ; suspicion there is worse than death itself. It is, that for which alone the innocent wife of Cesar was repu diated. The man who dares attack it is of all other criminals the greatest. If he be not a traitor it is for this alone that he is worse. For many a man has suffered as a traitor, whom after-ages have revered and honored. But never was he who set his cloven-hoof upon a woman's honor worthy the name of man. [Here the defendant rose and claimed the protection of the court, not so much with a desire to prevent the range of the ingenious counsel, as to prevent the utterance of personalities, that it would not be prudent perhaps to repeat out of court. While the defendant was addressing the court, the counsel calmly advanced, arid taking a pinch of snuff, modestly ob served, that what he was doing was in court, and what was to be done out of court was not to be talked of here. Then 8 PREFACE. pointing to the defendant, and casting a significant look upon him, he proceeded.] This unrighteous man has, by this very movement of his choler, justified all that I can ever say. If he complains of personalities — he who is hardened in every gross abuse — he who lives reviling and reviled ; who might construct him self a monument, with no other materials but those records to which he is a party, and in which he stands enrolled as an offender — -if he cannot sit still tp hear his accusation, but calls for the protection of the court against a counsel, whose duty it is to make his crimes appear- — how does she deserve protection whom he has driven to the sad necessity of coming here to vindicate her honor from those personalities which he has lavished on her 1 Did not his opening counsel say before you that ' he could make the color fade upon this lady's cheek, and wish that she might be in court to hear him 1 re gret that her own son was not here to testify against her V Was pot this monstrous personality! And when it is consid ered that before this very cause drew near its close, the other counsel of this same defendant rose and told you, that 'they admitted her character was spotless, and for that reason that no reproach was cast upon it, desire you to acquit their inno cent client, who is a mere historian, who never could have malice, who was more ready to rectify his errors, than others to observe him.' But it is well, and I am glad that I was interrupted ; for the very evil genius that waits upon his life has here, for once, worked to an honest end. For while my voice was almost choked with crowding truths, struggling for utterance, and while the swell of honest indignation rose even to suffoca tion, he came forward and pointed my attention to that sub ject which first, deserved rebuke. I had said, that in the catalogue of crimes none could be found more base than his. Not treason, for the reasons I have given. Not murder ; for he who murders life, murders all sorrow with it ; but he has doomed this lady to days of sorrow, arid to lingering death. The pirate meets his foe, or seeks his prey, where.death and danger stare him in the face ; and when he falls before the sword of justice, some sympathy may mingle with his shame, and men regret that one so brave in manly enterprise should fall so ignominiously. But here is an attack upon a woman far from her husband's side, from friends and home, whose infant sons are yet too tender to avenge their mother's wrongs. The forger who counterfeits some instrument to cheat you of your money, for that CTime spins out his wretched days in hard captivity, in infamy and labor : will you compare his crime with that of one who, by his fabricated histories, pilfers from helpless woman the only PREFACE. 9 preciousjewel which she prizes — her more than life, her all — her spotless honor ! That which the robber or the thief purloins may be retrieved, or may be spared ; but not the worth of twenty thousand beings such as the libeller, were he worth twenty thousand times as much as ever he will be, reform how he may, would pay the twenty thousandth part of that which he has taken. It is argued that everything should be intended in favor of this defendant, who has written so godly a work against the prince of deists, and for the holy gospel. I am sorry to hear such arguments advanced ; they go almost to burlesque reli gion itself. He a man of God ! He write for the love of God ! His book a godly book ! a vile, obscene, and filthy compilation, which bears throughout the character of rancor ous malice, and tramples upon every Christian charity. Libel an innocent woman, lie and calumniate, for the sake of Christianity i If this be the only godly deed this man has done, I pray to Heaven to be more merciful to him than he has been to Mrs. Bonneville, and that for this very work of godliness he be not damned. If you be Christian jurors punish him ; for be assured of this, that twenty Paines, were twenty such just now upon this earth, could not conjointly do more harm to Christianity by their most violent efforts, than this man by defending it would do. If any one of wavering faith should hear that the best vindication of God's word was this most libellous and scan dalous work, he never would be a Christian from that hour. Not every one that saith, Lord, Lord, shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but least of all he that makes the blessed name of God a cloak for malice and iniquity. He may be like those priests of whom we read in history, who, with the holy cross in the one hand and the bloody sabre in the other, commit atrocities at which nature shudders. Where did he learn, that the God of mercy took delight in human sacrifices, and that, to do him honor, a woman's heart should palpitate upon a bloody altar 1 Has he ever read the word of God 1 or, this heavenly historian, does he know one letter of the gospel histbry 1 If he does, he is as burnt and dull in understanding, as he is dead to sensibility and delica cy. When a woman was brought before the author of the Christian religion, taken in the very fact of adultery, what did he say 1 He left behind him a specimen of tenderness ever memorable and divine. 'Let him,' he said to the fanat ical and malignant rabble, ' let him who is innocent cast the first stone.' And if this Christian historian had ever known or felt the benignant spirit of holy inspiration, would he not be sensible that he was not innocent 1 If he be innocent, then are tigers gentle. 2 10 PREFACE. There was a monastery where deadly crimes were expiated called La Trappe : when sinners entered it they made a~ ter rible vow of everlasting silence, and from that awful moment never uttered a word, and daily with their nails dug their own graves. When the midnight bell tolled them to prayer, they left their solitary cells, and moved with noiseless step through gloomy cloisters and whispering aisles, with downcast look, turning their rosaries, but never ppoke. Such is the peni tence, such the everlasting silence that would become the ruthless slanderer of woman's honor. But he who acts the bully and the bravo, and calls himself the champion of high Heaven, what words can paint the horror he inspires ! Then let us leave him. My duty calls me now to recapitulate the testimony of all his witnesses. The first and principal is Mr. Carver. He, with uplifted hand, affirmed, bythe ever-living God, the truth of what he testified — and what was that 1 His letter tells us all : that he and Paine had a dispute for money ; and in their correspondence you may find the crimes and baseness they reciprocally urged against each other. Mr. Carver, whose vulgar scurrilous letter makes the chief buttress of this man's defence, the more to spite his adversaries, flings out some calumny against the lady. Carver himself admits, that when she got a sight of it she threatened to prosecute him for that very letter. Yet on no better ground has this audacious libeller defamed her reputation. From the same source springs the infernal hint that little Thomas Bonneville had the countenance and features of TJiomas Paine. In his little nose no doubt the historian could discern, by learned inspection, the germes of future blossoms, and gems that in due course of nature should come to this world's light. Carver gives evidence of what he heard from Paine of Mrs. Bonneville, which he himself retailed to Cheetham ; and Cheetham, rather than such sublime history should not shine forth to save poor sinners' souls, becomes his historian for the love of God, and gives them to the world as history. This is the history of this historian and his history ! I pushed him (Carver) farther, and he stated that he and his wife had often gone to Mr. Purdy's on the farm to visit Mrs. Bonneville. Then it was, that seeing the toils in which his honesty and decency had fallen, he tapered off by saying he never had seen the slightest indication of any meretricious or illicit commerce between Paine and Mrs. Bonneville ; that they never were alone together, and that all the three chil dren, the little godson Thomas and all, were alike (he object? of Paine's care. Here ends the black conspiracy and conjuration for the love of God. And now the sickened soul revives, and a PREFACE. 11 bright scene appears : A group of matrons led by those hands which holy wedlock had joined to theirs for ever — heads of families, beloved, distinguished, full of respect and honor ; in form so bright, in innocence so lovely ; so pure in unsus pected truth, so proud in conscious worth and dignity ; who never till that hour had crossed the threshold of a court of justice, or been where discord reigns; whose lips had never uttered other oaths than those which bound them by the wil ling ties of constancy and love ; who, when the seraph-voice of piety called them down, first glided from their spheres up on the wings of heaven-born charity, and having done their mission, disappeared. But, oh ! it was a holy sacrament when wife and husband twined their oaths together with such so lemnity, such beaming truth, as when they made before the altar of their God that vow so full at once of joy and awe that linked their future destiny together and made them ever one. They would have told you of this lady's sorrows and her res ignation, of her spotless conduct, of her merit; how they in trusted to her care and tutelage the jewels of their souls, the children of 'their hearts ; with what reproachless truth; what anxious duty she answered to the trust ; had not the rules of evidence and technical formalities of law cut short their story. Her general character was all they were allowed to testify. Their words were few, but like so many messages Of grace or high commands from heaven. The wives of your own bosoms are not more pure than this injured lady is proved, nay, more, admitted now to be. If they were stigmatized by an historian, what would you say of him, that he was innocent or guilty 1 You have heard the witnesses for Mrs. Bonneville, and you may judge if this historian had inquired of them, instead of grubbing filth from every dunghill, how bright a name she would have deserved, who has been, nevertheless, doomed by this terrible man to misery. If he had begged access to any of those high distinguished persons under whose roof she lived, whose children she had taught ; of Mr. Emmett, who oppresses no one, but protects the' innocent ; ox of Mr. Fulton, who knew her and her hus band in their own country ; if he had asked of Mr. Jarvis — that man of keen sagacity, of observation, with knowledge of mankind and of all the parties ; if he had been satisfied with Mr. Hitt's word, rather than that of 'pious nurses and kind attending doctors,' and reverend teachers, who had disputes and lawsuits; he would have known what all but his mutinous genius now concedes. I have no cause of private malice against him, but quite the contrary. When he had any spark of character, he praised me more than ever I could merit, and I could not hut thank him. When he had nothing good to give but his abuse, without offence or change in me, 12 PREFACE. he gave me that with equal liberality, and I thanked him. If I could ask a favor of him now, it would be to abuse me more and more, and never let his malice go to the length of prais ing me : for although my friends who know me well might not despise me, yet in this community where I am little known, and still almost a stranger, I may not have formed suf ficient character to stand against his praise, nor be entitled to so much indulgence that it should be believed that I could have his praise, and yet be honest." This same Cheetham, the libeller of Madame Bonneville, and through her of Paine's memory, is the author of other calumnies on Paine. It is by him that the public have been informed that Paine was drunken and dirty in his person ; and so industriously and faithfully have the clergy preached and circulated these calumnies, that we shall scarcely be believed in contradicting them on the very best evidences, his com panions now alive, and in some cases the very men whom Cheetham impudently names as sources of his information. Thus, Mr. Jarvis, the celebrated painter, with whom Mr. Paine lived, informs us distinctly that Mr. Paine was neither dirty in his habits nor drunken : nay, he good-humoredly ad ded that he always drank a great deal more than ever Paine did. Mr. John Fellows lived in the same house with Mr. Paine, above a twelvemonth, and was his intimate friend for many years after his return to this country, and never saw him but once even elevated with liquor, and then he had been to a dinner-party. We know more than twenty persons who were more or less acquainted with Mr. Paine, pnd not one of whom ever saw him in liquor. His habit appears to have been to take one glass of rum and water with sugar in it, af ter dinner, and another after supper. His limit at one period when at Rochelle, was one quart of rum a week, for himself and friends, for Mr.*Paine was rather penurious in his old age. This, and this alone, is the only moral fault we find in his character, and we wish to be his impartial historian. His manner of life at this time we get from Mr. Burger, a respect able watchmaker in New York, but then a clerk in the only store at Rochelle, who served Mr. Paine with his liquor and waited upon him when sick, and drove him about the neigh borhood at the Tequest of his employer, and thus saw much of his social habits. This gentleman never saw Mr, Paine PREFACE. 13 intoxicated. Carver, with whom Paine lived, but from whom he parted in anger, is the only man we know who has not spoken distinctly on that subject; and he remarks, that "Paine was like other men [at that period], he would some times take too much." But Carver had unfortunately commit ted himself on this subject in an angry letter, the same on which Cheetham based his libel. In fact, this letter is the groundwork for all Cheetham's calumnies. Mr. Grant Thor- burn, a few years back, republished this letter in his " Forty Years' Residence," on which occasion Carver vindicates him self in one of his last publications, where he thus speaks of that letter : — EXTRACT FROM " A BONE TO GNAW FOR GRANT THORBURN," BY W. CARVER. "When I first read the life of Grant Thorburn, I made this remark, and wrote it on the cover of his book : ' I have read this life of Grant Thorburn. I presume a great part of which it is composed has no more connexion with his life than mine, or the pope of Rome's, to wit: the corresponding letters be tween Thomas Paine and myself, and those letters I have cut out of his book.' These letters were first printed by Cheet ham without my consent for base purposes, after he became a tory and a hypocritical turncoat, like Grant Thorburn, who has now reprinted them for the same purpose. They were written by Paine and me in anger. Mr. Paine had boarded with me without any regular agreement, and we quarrelled about the bill, what has happened a thousand times to other people ; he wrote angrily and I angrily replied. But the affair was amicably settled by Walter Morton and John Fellows ; the latter is still living. I think some things Paine said of me were not in earnest, and I answered in anger : the letters should have been burnt. But Cheetham said many things of Paine that were not true, after he turned tory. I told him ' I believed that he had had his hand crossed with British gold.' Mr. Charles Christian was present ; he said to Cheetham : ' That is a bold attack of Carver in your own house.' He replied and said : ' I know Carver ; he will contradict a judge on the bench if he thinks him not right ;' but he did not deny the charge. When Paine was on his deathbed, I wrote him the following letter. This shows what opinion I had of him ; I think he was one of the greatest men that ever lived. ' Dear Sir : I have heard that you are much indisposed in health, and that your mind, at present, is not reconciled to me. Be that as it may, I can assure you that, on my part, I 14 PREFACE. bear no ill-will, but still remain your sincere well-wisher ; and am still a zealous supporter and defender of the principles that you have advocated, believing they are founded on im mortal truth and justice ; therefore I think it a pity that you or myself should depart this life with envy in our hearts against each other — and I firmly believe that no difference would have taken place between us, had not some of those of your pretended friends endeavored to have caused a separa tion of friendship between us. I, sir, want nothing of you or from you, but only that the ignorant and superstitious herd may not have it in their pow er to exclaim and say that Thomas Paine or Carver died without a reconciliation to each other. I have often told my friends, if I were on my dying bed, I should send for you, ho ping that all our differences might be buried in oblivion before our bodies were buried in the grave, as I hope that my dying pillow may not be planted with thorns; I consider that time with me is short, and perhaps shorter with you. If I never should see you again in this world, I wish you all the conso lation that your great mind is capable of enjoying, and that you may resign yourself with full confidence on your Maker, and leave a noble testimony to the world of the.independency of your mind and honesty of your heart ; and this, my friend, will produce to you more comfort than all the prayers of the priests in the Christian world. Yours in friendship, WM. CARVER.' " Mr. Grant Thorburn, mentioned above, scarcely knew Mr. Paine, as Mr. Carver observes, nor does his conduct command respect. Such are the men, who, admitting the truth of Mr. Paine's writings, seek to destroy their effects by the most puerile attack on his private character. Cheetham, Thorburn, and others, have repeated slanders suggested in an angry letter ; the enemies of Paine, corrupt statesmen, and the clergy in particular, have so industriously circulated these slanders, as even to deceive the very friends of Mr. Paine. In commen cing our inquiries we really thought the fact that Mr. Paine was a drunkard in old age was well established. In seeking, however, for the proofs of this, we arrive at a very different conclusion. In the course of this work we shall show the sources from which we have derived our information. g. y. LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. PART I. Most men pursue personal happiness and their own great ness as worthy objects; but Mr. Paine labored for the great ness of the nation of which he was a member, and sought its happiness ; and in the pursuit of which he built up his own greatness and promoted his own happiness. Nothing will be clearer established by this record of his life than the fact now alluded to ; and this fact marks him as peculiarly distinguish ed even among great and good men. We are not, how ever, about to write a eulogy; to enhance his virtues, or to suppress his faults, or vices. Paine was a part of human nature, and partook of its imperfections ; and our purpose is fairly to represent him as he was ; but the greater part of Mr. Paine's life was public, and as suoh we know of no man who had greater virtues or less vices. His natural life is distinctly marked into four periods: his history in England before he embarked for North America ; his residence and exertions in this country during the revolutionary war ; his return to Europe, and his exertions in France and England during the great French revolution and revolutionary war ; and his final return and residence in the United States till his death. The first part will necessarily be the least interesting ; his merits were only known to a few ; but fortunately among those few was Dr. Franklin (by whose advice he visited this country). We have already noticed Sherwin's life of Paine, and as we find Paine's early life fairly delineated there, with some exceptions, we shall at once transcribe so much of that 16 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. work as suits our purpose ; correcting it where we find it necessary, and making such additions as we think proper from the abundant facts we have accumulated. THE EARLY LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. " Thomas Paine, the subject of these memoirs, was born at Thetford, in the county of Norfolk, England, on the 29th of January, 1737. His parents were obscure as to birth, having nothing to depend upon, except what was derived from their own industry. His father, Joseph Paine, was a member of the society of quakers, a person of sober habits and good moral character : he obtained a decent, but humble livelihood by following his trade, which was , that of a staymaker. The maiden name of his mother was Frances Cocke, the daughter of an attorney at Thetford, and a member of the established church. It was probably owing to the disagreement in the religious tenets of his parents that Paine was never baptized. He was, however, privately named, and through the pious eare of his aunt, he was afterward confirmed by the bishop of Norwich. At an early age, Paine was sent to the grammar-school at Thetford, where he was taught reading, writing, and accounts. Before he left this school, he likewise obtained a slight knowl edge of the Latin tongue ; but from the aversion or contempt which he subsequently acquired for the study of the dead languages, or from want of opportunity, it does not appear that they ever became the objects of settled attention. It does not seem, or at least it is not known, that, during his boyhood, he exhibited any peculiar signs of that genius which was afterward to exalt him to the very pinnacle of political fame. But from a passage in the 'Age of Reason,' it is evident, that however matured in judgment he might be before he became a politician, his first impressions on the sub ject of religion were made at a very early period of his life. Paine himself says: 'From the time I was capable of conceiving an idea, and acting upon it by reflection, I either doubted the truth of the Christian system, or thoi'ght 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 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 himself any other way ; and as I was sure a man would be hanged that did such a thing, I could A STAYMAKER GOES TO SEA. 17 not see for what purpose they preached such sermons. This was not one of those 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 to this moment ; and I moreover believe, that any system of religion that has any thing in it that shocks the mind of a child, cannot be a true system.' — 'Jlge of Reason,' Part I., p. 37. At the age of thirteen he was taken from school by his father, who, unable from his circumstances to apprentice him to any other trade, employed him as an assistant in the business of staymaking. Whether he was ever bound apprentice does not appear, nor is it a matter of much consequence. The sedentary shopboard had few attractions for our author, and he left it the first opportunity. After remaining with his father about three years, he left his native town and proceeded to London, where he doubtless hoped to better his circum stances ; conceiving, as many had done before him, that the metropolis was the only place where a youth can attain a proper knowledge of the world, and the only scene where natural talent can find an opportunity of displaying itself to the best advantage. His mind, which nature appears to have formed for enterprise, was of too aspiring a turn to be restrict ed to the limits of a provincial town, or to brook the idea of being confined for life to a business which would not only have cramped his genius, but which at best would have afforded him but a scanty livelihood. His prospects in Lon don, however, do not seem to have been at first much more inviting than those he had left in the country. On his arrival, he found himself without either friends or money, and desti tute of the means of procuring any, except by again having recourse to the business he had just deserted. He applied to a Mr. MoTris, a staymaker, in Hanover Street, Long Acre, of whom he procured employment for some weeks. From Lon don he went to Dover, where he worked at his business for a short time, with a Mr. Grace. How long a time elapsed from the period of his leaving his father to his quitting Mr. Grace does not appear, nor, if known, would it be a matter of much interest., Probably, not more than two or three months. Finding himself baffled in the expectations he had formed on quitting his home, he left his second employer, and went on board the Terrible priva teer, Captain Death. To a mind like his, which appears at the time we are speaking of, to have been ardent in the ex treme, it is not surprising that the war which had just then been declared against France, afforded an abundant field of enterprising anticipation. Situated as he was, and feeling as he probably did, the army or the navy was his only choice, 3 18 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. and he took the latter because it was nearest at hand. How long he remained on board the Terrible, has not been ascer tained ; but from his own account of the affair, the time must have been short. 'From this adventure,' says he, 'I was happily prevented bythe affectionate and moral remonstrance of a good father, who, from his own habits of life, being of the quaker profession, must begin to look upon me as lost.' Paine had been induced to go to sea from the impressions which the master of the school at Thetford had given him ; who having been a chaplain on board a man-of-war, retained much of the enthusiasm of the sea service, and indirectly infused it into the most ardent of his scholars. This affair made a considerable impression at the time ; but, like most of the impressions of youth, it soon wore away, and left his disposition for enterprise in much the same state as it was before the circumstance occurred. Shortly afterward, he entered on board the King of Prussia privateer, Captain Mendez ; but as no account has been published of this trans action, except that given by himself, it does not appear how long he remained at sea, or what occurred to induce him to desert the naval profession altogether, and resume his own business. In the year 1759, he settled at Sandwich as a master-stay- maker. There he soon became acquainted with a young woman of the name of Mary Lambert, to whom he was mar ried about the end of the same year. She was the daughter of an exciseman, and is said to have possessed considerable personal attractions. His stayfnaking business not exactly answering his expect ations, he removed with his wife to Margate, where she died in the year 1760. From Margate he went to London, and from London he again removed to Thetford. Here he resolved upon relinquishing his business altogether. He had long wished for some employment more congenial to his turn of mind. At length, through the interference of Mr. Cocksedge, the recorder at Thetford, he obtained a situation in the excise. This was toward the end of 1763. For some trifling fault he was dismissed from this situation, in something more than a year afterward. What the nature of that fault was, has never been satisfactorily explained ; but those who are acquainted with the practices of the excise, must be well convinced that if the offence had been of any magnitude, he would never have been restored to the office, which was the case in about eleven months after his dismissal." Mr. Paine, it appears, sent a petition to the board of excise begging to be restored to his situation. In the petition, Paine admits the justice of his dismissal, but uses the expression, DISMISSED FROM THE EXCISE. 19 " No complaint of the least dishonesty or intemperance ever appeared against me." For what he was dismissed is not stated, and what is very remarkable, his enemies in the Brit ish government who must have known the cause of his dis missal, never made it public, although they sought to destroy him by every means. We consequently conclude that he was not criminal, or such an opportunity would not have been omitted. Those who have lived on the coast of Eng land know that the impartial exercise of an exciseman's duty, , will expose him to censure ; for they will know that those who make and administer the laws are themselves concerned in smuggling. Clio Rickman, the friend of Paine, exposed a flagitious case of this kind, involving even the prime minister of England, which, from its peculiarity, we shall insert : — " When Admiral Duncan rendezvoused in the Downs with his fleet on the eighth of January, 1806, the Spider (lugger), Daniel Falara, master, was sent to Guernsey to smuggle arti cles for the fleet, such as wine, spirits, hair-powder, playing- cards, tobacco, &c, for the supply of the different ships. At her arrival in the Downs, the ships' boats flocked round her to unload her and her contraband cargo. A customhouse extra boat, commanded by William Wallace, seeing the lug ger, followed and took her ; in doing which he did his duty. On his inspecting the smuggled articles with which she was laden, he found a number of cases directed to Admiral Duncan, the Right Honorable William Pitt, the heaven-born minister of England, and to the Right Honorable Henry Dun das, Walmer Castle. In a few days, Wallace, the master of the customhouse cutter, received orders from government to give the lugger and her smuggled cargo up, on penalty of being dismissed the service, and these cases of smuggled goods were afterward delivered at the prime minister's, Mr. Pitt's, at Walmer Castle." At this very time, says Clio Rickman, there were fourteen poor persons in one jail in England for smuggling. From the surprising silence of Paine's enemies on the subject of his dismissal, we strongly suspect it was connected with some thing they did not want exposed. " After his dismission he proceeded to London, where he became a teacher in an academy kept by Mr. Noble of Good man's, Fields. In this situation he remained until the period of his restoration to office. It is probable that it was during 20 LIKE OF THOMAS PAINE. his stay in London at this period, he applied himself to the study of astronomy and natural philosophy, and that this is the time he alludes to, when he says, 'As soon as I was able I purchased a pair of globes, and attended the philosophical lectures of Martin and Ferguson, and became afterward ac quainted with Dr. Bevis of the Society called the Royal Society, and an excellent astronomer.' Indeed, as he himself expresses it, the natural bent of his mind appears to have been to science, and though from his disadvantageous situation in life he necessarily met with many obstacles, it is evident from several of his productions, that he attained a great proficiency in mechanics, mathematics, and astronomy. It was from his being well grounded in the principles of science, during the earlier part of his life, that he afterward became such a pow erful adept in reasoning ; it was from the mathematical prin ciples which had been engrafted on his mind while it was yet tender enough to receive the impressions of instruction, that he was subsequently enabled to write with such precision upon almost any subject, that he was enabled to reduce ab- struseness to simplicity, to understand difficult subjects him self, and to render them intelligible to others." The enemies of Mr. Paine have represented him as an ignor ant, vulgar man, and his style coarse and rude, but imbued with strong good sense. His worst enemies allow him the latter qualities, except Cheetham ; who, heated by party poli tics, and corrupted by expectancies from Britain, has outraged common sense by denying Paine any good qualities, while his own work abounds with proofs to the contrary. Paine's style was clear, forcible, and elegant : in our opinion, he is the best English writer we know. We never misunderstand him ; and it is almost impossible to put the same thoughts in fewer or better chosen words than he has done. Those who have attacked his style, are themselves ignorant or vicious, with no literary character to lose. When the clergy have urged on their hearers the vulgarity of the style of Mr. Paine, it has always appeared to us that they have presumed on the ignor ance of their hearers, or have themselves been the dupes of what they wished to believe : for Paine was decidedly a learn ed man, but self-taught, as indeed most learned men are ; for the meager instruction of a school only gives the rudiments — the base — that on which the fabric must be raised. Paine's knowledge of the classics was indeed very limited ; perhaps the mere elements obtained when a boy at the grammar- RESTORED TO THE EXCISE. 21 school ; but even this gave him one important advantage : thei little he did know enabled him rightly to estimate the value of Greek and Latin, which are of great intrinsic worth only in some cases, and of none to Mr. Paine in any of his pursuits or works; and when he stated that a Greek milkman knew more of Greek than the best Greek scholar in England, he lifted the veil which covered ignorance ; although a scholar might know much of the grammar or philosophical construc tion of the language, which a Greek milkman might not. In his biblical criticisms, he showed that the authorized English Bible was not the Word of God ; and thus he cut off all refer ence to ancient languages. His acquaintance with mathemat ics and natural philosophy was evidently extensive. His ref erences to these subjects are frequent, and always pertinent ; while there is no egotistical display of knowledge or learn ing ; yet every learned man knows well the certainty of de tecting ignorance in a -man who, by references, assumes a knowledge of science which he does not possess. Paine grappled, too, with the higher branches of the mathematics, for he was acquainted with their application to mechanics and to bridges ; and this latter is one of the most difficult subjects to which they are applied. It was not then a compliment that Paine was admitted a member of various learned societies in this country, France, and England. He had substantial claims to such a standing ; and those who have attempted to degrade him on this subject, have taken a mean advantage of his un popularity in the religious community, and of the ignorance and prejudices of that community against him. We have now in our possession a part of a letter in Paine's handwriting, on the difficult subject of fortification, in relation to New York, and which he treats in a scientific and masterly manner. The \ subject, too, has his own peculiarity, that of utility and being \ well-timed ; for then it was a desideratum to fortify New York, We return now to the narrative of events, and shall again make use of Sherwin's life, as containing an elegant narrative of the facts we wish to communicate. On Paine's petition to the board of excise, was written : " July 4th, 1766 ; to be restored on a proper vacancy." He was therefore restored ; and leaving his scholastic pursuits, he returned again to the excise for several years. 22 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. " On his reappointment to the excise, our author immedi ately returned from London to Thetford, where he continued until the spring of 1768, when he was removed to Lewes, in Sussex. There he resided in the house of a person of the name of Ollive, a tobacconist. With him he remained up ward of twelve months, when the former died, leaving a widow, a daughter, and several sons. Our author then left the family for a short time, but soon afterward returned, when he opened the shop on his own account. In consequence of this, and of his having previously lived under the same roof, he soon contracted an intimacy with Miss Ollive, the daughter of his former landlord, whom he married in the year 1771." At this time Paine appears to have mingled a little politics with his pursuits ; and he is reported to have written an elec tioneering ballad, and to have been paid for it : but we know of none but a jeu d'esprit, " The trial and Execution of the Farmer's Dog," in ridicule of both parties, and therefore not likely to be paid for by any one ; besides, Paine when better known, never made a profit of his political works, or even reserved a copyright. We therefore doubt that he was paid for such a service ; although pay for honorable services, is by no means unreasonable. In 1772 he wrote " The Case of the Excise Officers," a small pamphlet, on a very limited and unpopular subject : yet in this pamphlet Mr. Paine's style and principles are rec ognised. " The same conciseness, clearness, and benevolence, which form such prominent features in the future productions of Paine, are distinguishable in almost every page ofthe pamph let in question. Exclusive of the 'Introduction,' it is divided into two parts : ' The State of the Salary of the Officers of Excise ;' and ' Thoughts on the Corruption of Principles, and on the Numerous Evils arising to the Revenue from the too great Poverty of the Officers of Excise.' In the introduc tion is stated the design of the excise officers, in all parts of the kingdom, to make an application to parliament to have the state of their salaries taken into consideration. The sub ject is then entered upon and discussed with all the energy and ability which might have been expected from a long-ex perienced advocate. The deductions that are made upon the exciseman's salary by unavoidable contingencies, and the danger to which his duty necessarily exposes him, are recap itulated in the most forcible manner. Under the second head, the policy of our author's object is insisted upon : he advises THE CASE OF THE EXCISE OFFICERS. 23 the government to render their officers honest by relieving their necessities ; and the pamphlet concludes by enumerating the advantages that would be ensured by adopting the recom mendation. Of this pamphlet four thousand copies were printed by Mr. William Lee, of Lewes ; but to what extent they were circu lated I have not been able to learn. It would doubtless be read with pleasure and avidity by the class of men who were interested in the result ; but whatever might be the distresses of the excisemen, it was not likely that they would meet with much sympathy or encouragement from the public. The nature of their occupation, and the unpleasant mode in which the duties of it are performed, have always rendered them objects of public odium; and however misdirected or useless such odium may be, it will ever continue an appendage to the character of those who collect this tyrannical impost. The public, therefore, viewed the complaints of the excisemen with indifference ; and though considerable exertions were made by various individuals, as well as our author, there was no member to be found to bring the subject before parliament. The distresses of the officers, and the consequent depredations on the revenue, which our author had so ably pointed out, and so zealously endeavored to get removed, were not deemed of sufficient importance to merit parliamentary inquiry, and the proposal, like many other proposals for the removal of public evils, fell to the ground without investigation." During Mr. Paine's residence at Lewes, he was held as a man of talents in the small circle of that town. His company was sought by men of greater affluence than himself. He was decidedly a good companion, whether engaged in amusements or debate. Paine at that time was fond of bowls, then a fash ionable game : even Dr. Young, the elegant author of the Night Thoughts, was a member of a club, and attended a bowling-green. Paine in this amusement mingled with the best company in the place. He met, too, an evening club at Lewes in the principal tavern, for conversation and debate ; and in that society, the best the town afforded, he carried the palm as a debater. While, however, he was thus social, he neither drank to excess, nor did he indulge in the vulgar habit of swearing, a habit he never contracted ; and which, even in his latter days, he reproved in some of his intimate friends. This fact is confirmed to us by Mr. Jarvis, the celebrated painter, with whom Mr. Paine lived sometime before his death. This is worthy of note ; for his enemies, foiled by 24 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. his arguments, and not being able to attach to him crimes, have assumed faults and magnified them into vices. We have these facts from those who knew Paine at Lewes, and from those who knew the company he kept, and his habits. Carver, with whom Paine afterward lived in New York, was then an apprentice in the town, and used to saddle Mr. Paine's horse, and well remembers both him and his reputation. We know, too, the family of Rickman, who always resided in that neighborhood ; and on their information and others we can rely. " I have already observed, that on the marriage of our author with Miss Ollive, he commenced the business of a tobacconist and grocer, which he carried on in much the same method as his predecessor had done before him. This circumstance, as might have been anticipated, soon rendered him an object of suspicion in the eyes of the commissioners, and it is not improbable that the zeal which Paine had dis played in exposing the pernicious consequences of doling out so pitiful a provision to the active class of excisemen, while their betters were spending their days in ease and affluence, had rendered him an object of dislike among his superiors in office. The spirit of independence which he showed on all occasions, and which there is very little doubt he communi cated in a considerable degree to those around him, was but little calculated to ensure the approbation of persons who regard implicit obedience as the test of merit, who look upon a proposal for reform as a step toward revolution, and the protection of abuses as the only mode of perpetuating the blessings of the English system of government. Considerable pains were taken to discover some flaw in the conduct of Paine ; but so strictly had he performed his duty, that nothing of any consequence could be substantiated against him. His keeping a tobacconist's shop was, however, a sufficient pre text with those who wished to rid themselves of so trouble some a servant, and he was a second time dismissed from the excise in April, 1774." At this period Paine became unfortunate in his business ; perhaps he suffered from his social qualities, and a spirit of independence. His companions, we have already remarked, were generally in better circumstances than himself; and these sought his company for its, intrinsic worth, for he was both instructive and amusing; and perhaps he incurred ex penses and a loss of time, which he was unable to afford ; SEPARATES FROM HIS WIFE. 25 while a sanguine temper would still afford him hope, till his affairs were too bad to mend. His goods, at this period, were sold to pay his debts ; and in the following month, May, 1774, he separated from his wife by mutual consent, and articles were signed on the 4th of June, by which she retained the little prop erty she had brought him at marriage, and which was just suffi cient to maintain her in a decent manner for the rest of her life. All the causes of this separation are not known. Mr. Paine uniformly spoke of his wife with kindness ; and Clio Rickman informs us, in his life of Paine, that he frequent ly sent her money, without letting her know the source whence it came. She was afterward a professor of a sectarian religion in Cranbrook, Kent, and boarded in the house of a watchmaker, a member of the same church ; his house was consequently visited by religious people, many of them with strong prejudices, and some very ignorant. These, after the publication of the " Age of Reason," would sometimes speak disrespectfully of Mr. Paine in her presence, when she uni formly left the room without a word. If, too, she was ques tioned on the subject of their separation, she did the same. We have these facts from those who resided with her. Our most intimate friend at one period, was a Mr. Bourne, a watch maker in Rye, about eighteen miles from Cranbrook, England. This gentleman was apprenticed in the house where Mrs. Paine lived : he sat at the same table with her for years. We have these facts confirmed by other residents at Cranbrook. Thus nothing could be learned from her, except that though she differed from Mr. Paine on religious subjects, she could not bear to hear him spoken ill of. Paine, as we have before remarked, spoke respectfully of her ; but if any person became inquisitive, he immediately answered rudely, that " his sep aration was a private affair." Clio Rickman asserts, and the most intimate friends of Mr. Paine support him, that Paine never cohabited with his second wife. Sherwin treats the subject as ridiculous ; but Clio Rickman was a man of integ rity, 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 of ours, he admitted this 26 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. singular fact; but replied, a I had a cause; it is no business of anybody." Singular, therefore, as this fact is, as both parties preserved a taciturnity on the subject, Ave have not the means of arriving at the truth. It was, as Paine said, a private affair ; and we have not the means of withdrawing the veil, and have consequently no right to come to an unchari table conclusion toward either party. We however infer that Paine had a cause ; without which his wife ought to and would have exposed him, especially as she was surrounded by his bitter enemies. Paine, while at Lewes, was a whig ; and as such never thought of examining the first principles of government. A king, lords, and commons, were admitted as forming the best government by the admixture of the three sorts, royal, aris tocratic, and democratic. As a whig, all he sought was the preservation of the supposed constitution ; but a trifling ex pression from one of his companions, gave his thoughts a deeper range, and formed the basis of his " Common Sense" and " Rights of Man," which afterward so materially influenced the people in North America, France, and England. While sitting over some punch after a game at bowls, a Mr. Verral observed of Frederick, king of Prussia, that " he was the best fellow in the world for a king ; he had so much of the devil in him." Simple and accidental as this observation was, it turned Paine's thoughts on the rights by which kings existed and governed, and thus led him into an examination of the inherent rights of the people ; while the breaking up of his business, and separa tion from his wife, led him forward to the proper scene in which his talents and his principles «ould be properly estimated. Sherwin, speaking of this period, remarks : " Our author was by this and prior events relieved from every tie which might be supposed to bind him to his country. Deprived of his home, and destitute of friends and employ ment, he had to commence life anew, and that without either credit or capital. His parents were become much advanced in years ; their industry was no more than sufficient to pro cure a maintenance for themselves, and therefore Paine could not have derived, even if he had desired, any assistance from their kindness. The cheerless prospect which lay expanded before him, the misfortunes that had already befallen him, and the desolate situation in which he was then placed, must have LOSES HIS PROPERTY AND PROSPECTS. 27 impressed upon his mind the idea that to whatever country he went, it was impossible for his condition to become worse. In England there was no hope. Every change only brought an accumulation of fresh misfortunes. Borne down by poverty, and surrounded by difficulties of every description, his condition appears to have been that of a ruined, hopeless man. In this situation many would have sat down discouraged without a struggle. But despair #nd dismay appear to have formed no part of Paine's character. He seems never to have sunk into the extreme of depression, or to have risen to that tumultuous gladness which so often accompanies the extreme of elevation. His mind appears never to have been crushed by defeat, or elated by success. The unshaken for titude which can smile on disappointment and danger, and look serenely amidst the tumult of triumph, seems to have been the most prominent feature in his character. " After the sale of his effects and the separation from his wife were concluded, our author again went to London. By what means he procured a living during his stay in the me tropolis is unknown, but soon after his arrival he obtained an introduction to Dr. Franklin, who advised him to go to Amer ica. The doctor probably perceived in his interviews with Paine "that he was a man possessed of abilities of no ordinary character, and this accounts for the readiness with which he furnished him with a letter of introduction to one of his most intimate friends in the United States. Our author was thus afforded an opportunity of beginning life again, and that at an age when his ardent and enterprising spirit must have been considerably tamed by the sharp lessons of adversity. He had as he himself observes,'served an apprenticeship to life,' and it is more than probable that those sublime ideas on the subject of liberty which were afterward to raise his name so very high in the temple of fame, were produced by his early misfortunes. ' By wo the soul to daring action swells j By wo in plaintness patience it excels ; From patience, prudent, clear experience springs, And traces knowledge through the cause of things ! Thence hope is formed, thence fortitude, success, Renown — whate'er men covet and caress.' Savage. Poverty is certainly not the parent of genius, but it is un questionably its best preceptor. The finest productions we have in the language have been written by men whose intel lectual powers have forced their way into life under circum stances of the most abject penury. In most instances it has happened that the fire of genius has been long confined by 28 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. the heavy black clouds of adversity, before it acquired suffi cient strength to burst its boundary ; and as the streaming lightning is more or less vivid in proportion to the density or lightness of the clouds which encompass it, so it has gener ally proved that the powers of a fine imagination have been more or less brilliant, in proportion to the poverty or plenty by which the possessor was surrounded. The enlivening wit of Congreve, the melting scenes of Otway, the rural tender ness and pathetic simplicity of Goldsmith, and the dignified ease and elegance of Thomson, would have been unknown to us, if these luminaries in the hemisphere of literature had been born in a state of affluence ; for though the men might have lived with much more cOmfort to themselves than they did, it is very probable that the easy coueh and plentiful board would have destroyed the inspiration which gave birth to their finest productions. But to our author. He had by this time seen enough of the world to despise its follies, and he had witnessed too ma ny of the bad effects of misgovernment in his native country to feel any affection for them, when directed against the country of which he was about to become a citizen. Dr. Franklin could not therefore have selected a man more likely to repay his kindness in vindicating the cause of the people, by whom he was deputed ambassador to England. Our au thor sailed from this country [England] toward the end of the year 1774, and arrived at Philadelphia about two months afterward." We have thus briefly brought Mr. Paine to the close of the first period of his life ; a period of no important interest to the public ; and only valuable as qualifying him for the other periods, which belonged wholly to the public. His good sense was the work of nature ; his acquired knowledge, whether of books or men, was the effect of study and obser vation ; but to these was added experience, the result of accident ; but admirably adapted to fit him for his future tasks, of which he could have no conception. We have seen him necessarily a mechanic, a sailor, a tradesman, an exciseman, a storekeeper, and a teacher, acquainted with London, and different sections of Great Britain ; intimate with the cor ruptions and revenue of the country from his connexion with the excise ; an author, a politician, and associating with vari ous classes in the community ; with a habit for observation and original thinking, and thus qualified to address a whole LEAVES ENGLAND. 29 people on the subject of liberty. His father a quaker, his mother of the established church, and his wife and her friends dissenters, he could have but little religious prejudice. While accident, however painful to himself, which sent him to this country, unencumbered with either wife, family, or fortune, contributed highly to render him devoted to the people among whom he was about to reside, during their arduous struggle in support of liberty. 80 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. PART II. FROM MR. PAINE'S ARRIVAL IN AMERICA TO THE END OF THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. Mr. Paine having resolved to leave England, brought letters of recommendation from Dr. Franklin, then on an embassy from a northern state to the British government in London. Mr. Paine left England in the autumn of 1774, and arrived at Philadelphia in the latter part of the same year ; and not in 1772, as Dr. Rush states. Sherwin correctly says : "From this period to the day of his death, the abilities of Paine never lay dormant. Very shortly after his arrival in Philadelphia, he became acquainted with Mr. Aitkin, a re spectable bookseller of that town. In January, 1775, Mr. Ait kin commenced the publication of the Pennsylvania Magazine, of which Paine became the editor. Many of the pieces in this publication are truly elegant. In these, as in most of his other writings, he is singularly happy in clothing an original boldness of thought with a peculiar beauty of diction. The article in which he treats of the hidden riches of the earth, and the diligence with which we ought to search after them, is a fine specimen of this rare combination. The well-known song on the death of General Wolfe, appeared in an early number of this magazine ; and it is unquestionably one of the most beautiful productions of the sort in the English language. The ideas would have done honor to any of the poets of old, and the poetry is an example of the most polished versifica tion. As this little piece is still much admired, even by those who disapprove of its author's political and religious notions, I here insert it, as transcribed from an original copy : SONG ON THE DEATH OF GENERAL WOLFE. ' In a mouldering cave, where the wretched retreat, Britannia sat wasted with care : She mourned for her Wolfe, and exclaimed against fate, And gave herself up to despair. The walls of her cell she had sculptured around With the feats of her favorite son, And even the dust, as it lay on the ground. Was engraved with some deeds he had done. LINES ON THE DEATH OF WOLFE. 31 The sire of the gods, from his crystalline throne, Beheld the disconsolate dame, And, moved with her tears, he sent Mercury down, And these were the tidings that came : " Britannia, forbear, not a sigh or a tear, For thy Wolfe, so deservedly loved ; Your tears shall be changed into triumphs of joy, For thy Wolfe is not dead, but removed. The sons ofthe east, the proud giants of old, Have crept from their darksome abodes, And this is the news, as in heaven it was told, They were marching to war with the gods. A council was held in the chambers of Jove, And this was their final decree, That Wolfe should be called to the armies above, And the charge was intrusted to me. To the plains of Quebec with the orders I flew, He begged for a moment's delay ; He cried, ' Oh forbear, let me victory hear, And then thy commands I'll obey.' With a darksome thick film I encompassed his eyes, And bore him away in an urn ; Lest the fondness he bore to his own native shore Should induce him again to return."' In addition to the above, he wrote several other articles for the Pennsylvania Magazine, of considerable literary merit. These principally consist of a letter to the publisher on the utility of magazines in general; 'Useful and Entertaining Hints on the Internal Riches of the Colonies;' 'Reflections on the Death of Lord Clive ;' and ' New Anecdotes of Alex ander the Great.' The ' Reflections on the Death of Lord Clive,' I have not seen, though I have been at considerable pains to procure them ; but I have been informed that they contain much originality of thought, and that they caused the work to be sought after with great avidity. He likewise wrote for the same publication an elegant little piece in the form of a poetical dialogue, between a snowdrop and a critic, in which the former is made to describe the variety and pleasure in tended to be conveyed to the public through the medium of the new work, in opposition to the cavilling objections of the latter. These productions are already in the possession of the public, and they serve to show the versatility of our author's disposition/' Dr. Rush, of Philadelphia, and formerly a member of that congress which declared these states independent, in his letter to Cheetham, says that Paine came to this country with the design of opening a school for the instruction of young ladies in branches of literature not then generally taught. Paine's introduction to Mr. Aitkin appears to have been through Dr. Franklin's recommendations. There Dr. Rush met him ; and afterward, being excited by an article in one of Mr. Aitkin's 32 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. papers on the subject of the African slavery, he sought his acquaintance. And in that letter ascribes to himself suggest ing to Paine the subject of his " Common Sense," and the title. That letter, though highly favorable to Paine, is certainly egotistical, which renders this suggestion doubtful ; especially as the object of Cheetham in getting that letter written to him, as well as others from different persons, was obviously to pare off, if possible, any part of Paine's reputation. Dr. Rush was clearly incorrect in one of his dates ; and distinctly marks his prejudice in conclusively stating, that he declined to see Paine on his last return to this country, on account of the principles avowed in his " Age of Reason." This observation, though intended by Dr. Rush to exalt himself at the expense of Mr. Paine, and as such is published by Cheetham, is, in fact, highly important. It satisfactorily accounts for many of Paine's early sycophants deserting him, without any dereliction of personal worth on his part. Mr. Paine's acquaintance with Dr. Franklin ; the object of his coming to this country (to introduce a higher scale of education than that in use) ; his first employment (engaged or hired to edit a new magazine, and other periodicals pub lished by Aitkin) ; the success and reputation of those publi cations, and his acquaintance with Dr. Rush as a consequence of his reputation ; the very idea of Dr. Rush suggesting to Mr. Paine the subject of a pamphlet to act on the people, whether true or false, together with the circumstances just noted, mark Mr. Paine as then possessing literary attainments in an eminent degree ; and ought tp have preserved him against the vulgar abuse with which so many of the clergy and his theological opponents have assailed him. This attack on his literary character, successful in an extraordinary de gree, depended on the suppression of his works ; the pre sumption ofthe ignorance of those works by the body of the party addressed ; and on the assumption of the power of the clergy to prevent those works being read. It is remarkable, that Cheetham, dishonest in his purposes, and, comparatively with Paine, of small abilities, and very prejudiced and io-nor- ant, makes also this charge, while he himself furnishes the most satisfactory proofs to the contrary. In Cheetham's life HIS STYLE IN POLITE LITERATURE. 33 is to be found the song we have already inserted. He likewise furnishes the following beautiful extract from the pen of Paine, published in an early number of Aitkin's magazine, from which the style of Paine may be inferred in what is called polite literature. " In one of his lucubrations, adverting to the riches of the earth, the diligence which is necessary to discover, and the labor to possess them, he thus elegantly invites us to industry and research :-r- ' Though nature is gay, polite, and generous abroad, she is sullen, rude, and niggardly at home. Return the visit, and she admits you with all the suspicion of a miser, and all the reluctance of an antiquated beauty retired to replenish her charms. Bred up in antideluvian notions, she has not yet ac quired the European taste of receiving visitants in her dres sing-room : she locks and bolts up her private recesses with extraordinary care, as if not only resolved to preserve her hoards, but to conceal her age, and hide the remains of a face that was young and lovely in the days of Adam. He that would view nature in her undress, and partake of her internal treasures, must proceed with the resolution of a robber, if not a ravisher. She gives no invitation to follow her to the cav ern : the external earth makes no proclamation of the interior stores, but leaves to chance and industry the discovery of the whole. In such gifts as nature can annually recreate, she is noble and profuse, and entertains the whole world with the interest of her fortunes, but watches over the capital with the care of a miser. Her gold and jewels lie concealed in the earth in caves of utter darkness ; the hoards of wealth, heaps upon heaps, mould in the chests, like the riches of a necro mancer's cell. It must be very pleasant to an adventurous speculatist to make excursions into these Gothic regions ; and in his travels he may possibly come to a cabinet locked up in some rocky vault, whose treasures shall reward his toil, and enable him to shine on his return as splendidly as nature herself.' " Were Paine's works known and read, the slander about his vulgar style would necessarily be confuted, without the labor of an advocate ; and we regret the necessity of exposing the meanness which would suggest such a course to suppress a theological opponent. We are happy to find that his bitter enemies should be compelled to resort to falsehood for such a purpose. This conduct on the part of his personal enemies, 34 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. ought then to awaken suspicion that this is not the only false and malicious slander under which Paine has too long lain. That a man who could write poetry so well should have written so little, is at once a mark of his good sense and strong resolution. Paine had remarked that poets were gen erally pretty triflers, and he suppressed a talent which he thought of little use to society. It is evident that Paine was not naturally fond of politics ; he was led by circumstances, and a strong sense of justice and utility, into the course he took. The beauties of nature and the happiness of the human family occupied his mind. And the violence done to nature, and to human happiness by tyranny and superstition, together with the remarkable events of his day, deflected his course from the pursuits of peace, which he was so fitted to enjoy, into the more violent but useful course he did pursue. The man who could write the beautiful article we have just quoted^ did not want the excitement of a storm or a revolu tion to give zest to life. Nothing could be more beautiful than either Paine's poetry or prose ; he possesses not only strength and clearness, but a beauty of diction surpassed by no English writer we know : and if we wished to recommend a single model for fine English composition, we should cer tainly name Paine's writings as the best. We find Mr. Paine so completely identified with every great point in the revolution, and of the independence of this coun try, that we cannot do justice to him without giving a brief but clear account of those events, and the circumstances which led to them. Indeed, some of the most important events to be related were actually created or produced by him. Other men have followed events ; Paine actually crea ted them. Soon after the discovery of this continent colonies began to be planted in North America. During the last century the French held the north or Canada, and large portions of the south and west. The English had several colonies in the middle, while other Europeans had made small settlements. These colonies were little regarded at first ; they were safe ty-valves for daring spirits who were discontented at home. The inhabitants formed an amalgamation, as they have done CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 35 since, from every clime ; but with the exception of those transported to these shores for their crimes, they were indus trious and independent, the general characteristics of all vol untary emigrants. Colonies have always been regarded by the English government only as they profit the mother-coun try, or rather the party governing. In the first place large grants of territory were made by various English sovereigns, either as rewards to favorites, or for some services received, and these grants being made without a correct knowledge of the country or rights of the natives, they were frequently given with uncertain boundaries ; which, as we shall presently see,, was the remote cause of the American war of independ ence. When the colonists, by dint of their own industry, could raise a surplus of some produce, they became importers of manufactured goods, and as such an object of attention to the government of Great Britain. But the interference of the British government was for their own benefit. They ap pointed governors, always sycophants of power, to be paid by the colonists. And they regulated their trade so as to produce to Great Britain the greatest advantage. A liberal policy, the mutual benefit of both parties, has never yet been conceived and executed by any ministry. The very princi ples of the British government laid the seeds of discontent, and established two interests : the governor pursued his own and the interests of Britain, or rather what he thought the interests of the British government ; while the assemblies formed by the people, and their juries (for British settlers claimed British rights and customs), naturally preferred the interests of the colonies. In 1750, a company was formed in London called the Ohio company. They obtained a grant of six hundred thousand acres of land on the rivers Ohio and Mississippi. This grant was made without much regard to the Indian rights, and as it cut off the northern French territories from their southern and western, the French resisted it in practice. The trade of this company was chiefly carried on by the Virginians; but these traders were constantly annoyed by the French, who at last built a fort on the Ohio, and a French governor went so far as to order the seizure of every British subject found tlra- 36 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. ding there. To counteract this the Virginians formed a troop with which to protect their traders, and in this troop Washington was employed as a volunteer in the year 1753, and in the winter of that year undertook an arduous embassy to the French commandant, through a district that could not then be travelled by a horse, and at this early period marked out spots eligible for forts, especially Fort Duquesne. The embassy failing, force was attempted, and Washington became lieutenant to Colonel Fry. The French fort became the thea tre of war, which was alternately taken and retaken ; during which petty battles Colonel Fry died and left Washington in command ; and in this situation the general of the revolution gained some fame from a masterly retreat before a very su perior force of regular French soldiers. When the British government heard of these transactions they resolved to profit by them, and to dispossess the French of some of their terri tories through the means and at the expense of the colonies. They directed the governors of the several states to form a union, and raise a force ; and that these united governors, as sisted by two members of their respective council, should direct the whole, and draw upon the British treasury for the necessary expenses, in the first instance, but to be reimbursed by a tax laid on the colonies by the British parliament. This is the origin of the question which led to the disputes between Great Britain and the colonies, which ultimately led to independence. Franklin was consulted on this subject by Governor Shirley, and he at once declared the principle of taxation by the British parliament, in which they were not represented, to be unconstitutional and unjust. And thus he, too, as early as 1754, was initiated into the principles and in to the subjects on which he so much distinguished himself at a period twenty years later. In 1755, the king of Great Britain, George II., sent out a large armament, Admiral Boscawen, to St. Lawrence, and General Braddock to Virginia, without a declaration of war, assuming that the French had commenced hostilities ; and Washington became the aid-de-camp of Braddock. Braddock led his army into the field, relying chiefly on his veterans ; nay, actually despising the militia of the country, and neg« CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 37 lecting the experience of Washington. Near Fort Duquesne he was caught in an Indian defile, and subject to a species of warfare he was unaccustomed to ; and in that battle he was slain. Washington extricated the army from its perilous sit uation, retreated to Philadelphia, and afterward defended the frontiers of Virginia with much ability. Pitt, afterward Lord Chatham, becoming minister in England, pushed the war with vigor ; and sent out Lord Amherst, an excellent commander, assisted by Wolfe, General Forbes, and others. In 1758, Forbes took Fort Duquesne, while Wolfe lost his life at, but took Quebec; and in 1760 Amherst took Montreal; and in 1762, the whole of Canada and French North America was yielded to the English, except New Orleans and the adjacent province. At this period, and in the following year, the col onists were perfectly content. They did not expect Indian aggression when not supported by French power. They were satisfied with Britain imposing on them governors, as repre sentatives of royalty, while they enjoyed their colonial assem blies, their trial by jury, and other British rights ; they were in fact, satisfied British subjects, approving of king, lords, and commons, and, like other British subjects, boasted of their liberty and their matchless constitution ; which they really thought, for the opinion was common, that this mixed gov ernment united all that was excellent in each ; while the parts checking each other, suppressed all that was vicious in royalty, aristocracy, or democracy. They were afterward to be taught the fallacy of these opinions by Thomas Paine. At this period, 1763, they were politically divided, as in England, ' into whigs and tories ; or those who assumed to defend or extend the popular part of the government, and those who leaned to the aristocratical part, and favored the restriction of representation to property qualifications, and privileged or self-elected corporations : but the whigs predominated. It is to this period, 1763, that the colonists constantly refeT in the early part of their revolution, before the declaration of inde pendence, as the situation to which they wished to be restor ed ; and therefore it deserves particular attention. Parlia mentary taxation had been named, but never enforced or acted upon ; and in all their after-petitions all they ask, is the 38 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. repeal of 'laws since 1763. "Place us," they repeatedly say, " in the situation in' which we then were." No feeling of re publicanism is perceived in their addresses ; none in their public acts. Nothing of the kind was openly avowed by any of their leading men ; and the individuals who did occasion ally hint at such an event, were regarded as ultras ; who, however correct in theory, held dangerous and impracticable doctrines : and these were the national feelings up to the very eve of the declaration of independence ; just before which a change in the whole public sentiment was effected by the powerful pen of Thomas Paine, in his " Common Sense ;" before which publication the only object avowed, even by the great men of the age, and seriously sought after by the rest of the people, was to be placed in the situation of 1763 ; to be restored to royal favor, and to enjoy their old British privileges (not rights). In 1764 commenced the British and colonial troubles. Mr. George Grenville had then become minister in Britain. He proposed to raise a revenue in the American colonies foT the exclusive use of the British treasury. This was, of course, based upon the late expense of the war, borne by Great Brit ain, and in consonance with the scheme before noted, of future remuneration to the mother-country. About the same time that this measure was talked of, other obnoxious acts were attempted. In Massachusetts, the governor published in sup port of the ministry, and attempted to establish a religious test, by giving offices only to episcopalians : on which occa sion the people sent agents to England. On March 10, 1764, the stamp act was declared (not acted upon) ; which made certain transactions unlawful if not recorded on stamped paper, paid for as a tax. Against this Virginia led the way by petition and remonstrance ; Massachusetts passed legisla tive censures ; and these two states took the lead in the whole of the preliminary contests and revolutionary war. The memorials were not received by parliament ; but the parties were suffered to be heard by council. Dr. Franklin at this time was agent for Massachusetts. In 1765 the stamp act passed, and Boston went into mourning ; manifested great public spirit ; and her merchants agreed to import no goods CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 39 till the unjust act should be repealed ; while the lower classes committed some acts of violence. In Virginia a legislative action was had on it. Patrick Henry, then a young man, and scarcely acquainted with the rules of the assembly, waited for the action of some of the elder legislators ; but finding them silent, or disposed to conciliate, he rose in his place, and pro posed a series of resolutions, denouncing the stamp act as violations of their ancient charters, and destructive of British and American freedom, and disclaiming any other authority to enforce taxes than a general assembly. These resolutions, after considerable debate, were admitted, and served as a precedent for other states. The biographer of Patrick Henry, the late Mr. Wirt, relates, that after Mr, Henry's death, a sealed paper was found, directed to be read only when he had ceased to live. This paper contained the resolutions referred to, with remarks of Mr. Henry in his own handwriting. He observes : " The resolutions passed with a small major ity ; but the alarm spread throughout America. The minis terial party were overwhelmed: the great point of resistance to British taxation was universally established in the colo nies. This brought on the war, which finally separated the two countries." In every chain of events there are some links of more im portance than others ; nay, essential to that chain. It is evi dent that Patrick Henry thought so of these resolutions : it i3 equally evident that he himself looked forward to a separation of the two countries, and regarded these resolutions as im portant to that object; yet on the face of them they only claim what every Briton claims, and independence and repub- j licanism are not even hinted. The time had not yet come i for such sentiments to be broached ; nor how it was to come was not then known, either to Patrick Henry or to any other patriot. The man who was destined to convert a nation by a few pages of " common sense," was then in obscurity ; had just resigned staymaking for a paltry office in the English excise, and had never published an article : but the resolutions of Patrick Henry contributed to the crisis which brought Mr. Paine forward as an author ; and as such we regard him as a 40 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. chief link, too, in the chain of events which produced and consummated the revolution. In this same year, 1765, one James Otis, in Massachusetts, proposed a congress to be held in New York. A committee was formed to arrange this. South Ca'rolina was the first to yield to the suggestion. The various governors, alarmed, prorogued the assemblies of Virginia, North Carolina, and Georgia : but committees of correspondence were established in each state ; and thus the nucleus of organized resistance was formed. On the day the stamp act was to take effect, Boston had the bells tolled ; public meetings were held, and fast days appointed. Violence in some cases was used : and to wear homespun became respectable, as marking national principle. The violent opposition to the stamp act induced inquiry in London. Franklin was examined at the bar of the house ; and the whigs generally wished the repeal of the ob noxious stamp act. In the house of lords it is remarkable, that the bishops first recommended force to be used to the Americans ; and the king did not wish the repeal of the act. The law was, however, repealed ; and such were the feelings of the American people, that they manifested the most rap turous joy ; and actually adulated the British government for not doing them so great an injustice as to impose on them taxes without representation. In Virginia a statue was voted to the king. From Massachusetts votes of thanks were agreed upon to the Duke of Grafton and Mr. Pitt ; while Boston, and other parts of the continent, illuminated ; and rejoicings were everywhere heard. Well might Thomas Paine say, as he afterward did, in the " Crisis, No. VII. :" " I found the dispo sition of the people such, that they might be led by a thread and governed by a reed. Their attachment to Britain was obstinate ; and it was at that time a kind of treason to speak against it. They disliked the ministry, but they esteemed the nation. Their ideas of grievance operated without resent ment ; and their single object was reconciliation" The foolish ministers again opened the wound by wishing the states to remunerate those who had suffered by the acts of violence in resisting the stamp act. And in 1767, when Mr. Pitt, or Lord Chatham, had again come into power, but CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 41 during his illness, an act was passed, " to restrain the legisla tive power in New York ;" and soon after an act of perfidy awakened the jealousy and anger of the people ; for some troops landed in Boston, alleging they were driven in precisely to that port by stress of weather. And in the same year, one Charles Townsend, in the English parliament, publicly an nounced a plan for taxing the Americans by the English par liament, without giving them offence ; and this plan, thus foolishly announced, consisted in imposing a duty on glass, paint, tea, and paper, to be imported into the colonies ; and to assist this notable scheme, a board of admiralty was impos ed on the colonies, to be paid by the natives, and whose operations cramped the colonies for the supposed benefit of the mother-country. These measures roused the people, and again awaked the worst feelings. Boston took the lead. closely followed by other parts. The mob committed acts of violence ; while the better sort were loud in petitioning and remonstrating. Lord Chatham, who had been ill, resigned ; Townsend died ; and Lord North succeeded as English chan cellor of the exchequer, and afterward as prime minister : and to his perseverance in a wrong course, for the sake of consist ency, England lost her colonies and America gained her in dependence. This, without merit to Lord North, is another important link in the chain which led to independence. In this year the spirit of resistance was fostered by some tolerable essays from one John Dickenson, Esq., published in a Philadelphia paper ; while the seizing of Hancock's sloop " Liberty," for smuggling, furnished the Bostonians the sub ject of a riot. To quell this, the governor, Bernard, sent for troops; and the respectable body of the people, at a large public meeting held at Faneuil Hall, proposed arming in fear of French invasion. This was undoubtedly a justifiable ruse to meet the duplicity of the English ministers, whose troops landed by alleged stress of weather at Boston : it shows, too, that the Bostonians meant to fight for. their liberty ; though independence was never named, nor evidently scarcely con ceived of, except by a very few. In 1769, Lord North, the English minister, obtained a good support both in the house of commons and in the house of 6 42 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. lords ; and he determined to maintain the supremacy of the English government in all things ; and to prevent the effects of native juries, proposed trying civil officers, charged with rriurder Or violence in the colonies, in support of the British government, in England. On this occasion all the ports agreed to suspend importations till this grievance should be removed. In 1769, the opposition to the arbitrary measures of the British government was so great in the colonies, and so pow erful the effect of the non-importation agreement, that the ministers agreed' to discontinue all the duties, except that on tea ; thus perseveringly preserving the principle of taxation without representation, while they gave up the greater part of the profit. The war, therefore, that succeeded was a war on principle, not amount, of taxation. On this occasion, Lord Chatham, who had partially recovered from his late ill ness, violently opposed the ministers. During this and the following year, the spirit of resistance increased, for the Americans were not to be duped by the repeal of taxes, while the principle or right of taxation was maintained. In Boston, where the presence of the soldiers was obnoxious, riots en sued ; individual quarrels between soldiers and citizens be came party quarrels; and three ofthe soldiers were killed by the ropemakers. In New York, the people erected liberty- poles, which the soldiers cut down. But the most powerful incitement to opposition came from the pen of McDougal, a Scotchman, who boldly charged the assembly with betraying the city and colony of New York, because they had discour aged the people and sanctioned the governor and the troops ; not from attachment, but the necessity of supporting the laws. McDougal Was thrown into prison, where he remained three months, and then dismissed without a trial. This fact shows the force of his writings, and we shall afterward find this man rendering essential service, for which the notoriety given him by this persecution qualified him. In 1771, Rhode Island showed considerable excitement. Philadelphia refused to receive the taxed tea ; New York and other places followed, and the vessels returned. But in Bos ton, where a quantity was assigned, some of the people CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 43 dressed like Indians boarded the ships and threw three hun dred and forty-two chests of tea into the sea. Yet, in this act, they only sought the liberties which the charters granted them ; and in all their requests, they simply asked to be re stored to the situation they were in in 1763. In all this vio lence the word independence was never pronounced. In 1774, North, enraged at the conduct of the Bostonians, procured bills, closing their harbor and destroying their an cient charter and constitution ; thus punishing a whole peo ple and people unborn for the specific acts of some. Against this Lord Chatham protests ; and Burke the Irish orator made a brilliant speech. The career of the latter is identified with Paine ; for he afterward became a pensioner to the British government, and apologist for the Bourbon family, and the opponent of the French revolution, and his work on this subject produced Paine's celebrated "Rights of Man." Boston, when her harbors were about to be closed, appealed to other cities and states. Virginia, ever ready and firm in the cause of opposition to arbitrary measures, appointed through her legislature the day for closing Boston harbor (1st of June, 1774), as a day of solemn fasting ; a measure always efficacious, for it enlists religious enthusiasm, and presents to the opponent a ghostly power, of immense force, which feels no blows. Cromwell, Mahomet, and Thomas & Becket, perfectly understood these tactics, and succeeded in their use. The governor dissolved the house in May, but the members formed an association, before even they had heard from Boston. They published, too, a manifesto, rec ommending that no East India produce be used, except salt petre and spice. At New York, the parties were nearly equal ; but the popularity of M'Dougal, the Scotchman be fore noticed, for his spirited writings, gave him a considera- , ble influence, well supported as he was by Captain Sears. M'Dougal had both the honor to propose a second congress, ' the influence to get a committee for that purpose, and the ad* ; dress to carry this out, together with standing local commit- j tees : and this arrangement lasted till the declaration of independence. The various members to this congress, are the distinguished men, whose names are familiar to us as fa* 44 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. thers of the revolution. This congress was generally ap pointed by the legislatures, and made legal, to effect which there were some previous secret meetings in Massachusetts. A committee had been appointed on the state of the province, which consisted of Samuel Adams, Joseph Warren, John Hancock, I. Cutting, Robert Treat Paine, and others. Before they reported they requested the doors might be shut ; and then they proceeded to recommend acongress and an imme diate decision. A spy of the governor affected a bowel com plaint, and was suffered to depart ; but neither he, nor the governor, nor his agent, was suffered to enter till the congress was confirmed; and the governor's dissolution of the assem bly, made on the outside, was neither heard nor regarded. Virginia appointed Washington, Patrick Henry, &c, and de clared herself ready to support Boston, but at the same time carefully instructed her delegates not to break with Britain ; to support only their British privileges, or what they claimed as the rights of Englishmen. At this period, Rhode Island issued a motto, now familiar to our ears, but which at the same time is degraded by party politics, "United, we stand — divi ded, we fall." A motto, a song, a toast, or a pamphlet, will sometimes produce a unanimity, which hiuch greater efforts have failed in. Georgia, of all the states, sent no deputies to this congress ; but she, too, soon after, when the danger had not decreased, joined the union. It should be remembered, that about this time, Mr. Thom as Paine, by the advice of Dr. Franklin, then in England, was embarking for North America. It is evident that Franklin had a design of benefiting his country by this recommenda tion, in the precise way in which Paine effected it ; for Franklin soon followed Paine, and almost immediately offered to put into his hands the materials for the eventful history of ^he times. Paine at that time was actually engaged on his " Common Sense," and soon after sent him the first copy to surprise him by showing that he had anticipated his designs and wishes. These events throw a sort of halo about the characters of these two men, highly respectable to both. When Franklin knew Mr. Paine, he was in London, ruined in his fortune and prospects ; of no literary reputation, but for FRANKLIN AND PAINE. 45 one pamphlet, in which he pleaded the unpopular cause of the excisemen. He had then no distinguished acquaintances, to whom he was indebted for an introduction. Franklin was at this time a doctor, distinguished for his learning, philoso phy, and above all for his common sense. He was an old man, pithy and sententious, acquainted with the manner of addressing the people, himself an author (and authors are tenacious), yet he becomes the friend of Paine, advises him to come to this country, gives him letters which procure him at once a literary engagement, and on his return almost im mediately offers to put in his hands the materials for the his tory of the times ; while Paine was but a foreigner of a few months standing. What, then, are our conclusions, but that Franklin had the genius to discover Paine's peculiar tact and talents, and that he had the address to second Paine's wishes in coming to this country, without acquainting Paine with all his motives, and thus indirectly to effect what he himself wished 1 But what means had Franklin to know Paine"? His pamphlet on the excise must have been the only source by which his qualities as a writer could be known ; but that pamphlet is characteristic, and Franklin's conclusion must have been correct that he who could employ such good sense, in so powerful a manner, on such a bad subject, could, on a better subject, effect much. Franklin must, too, have discov ered the sound and correct judgment of Paine, by conversa tions, and he must have believed in the correctness of his principles and extent of his knowledge, before he could think of giving into his hands what his own countrymen thought himself (Franklin) so capable of. This conduct of Franklin, in preferring Paine to himself for this important object, while it reflects the greatest credit, upon Paine's natural abilities, acquisitions, and moral virtues, redounds also to Franklin's glory. It is great men only that can afford to be generous 5 and Franklin in this preference marks a greatness of character, which never forsook him: while it marks also the calumni ators of Paine, those who have attempted to present him to the public as a demoralized, vulgar, and illiterate man, as base unprincipled slanderers, whose calumnies are not the less venomous for proceeding frequently from reverend persons. 46 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. While Mr. Paine was preparing to leave his country, and during his voyage, events were ripening the crisis which should render his services valuable. Boston was distressed by a blockade ; while the men, assisted even by the women, exercised themselves in arms. The governor of Boston had removed to Salem ; but the spirit of the people brought him back. His proclamations availed nothing. Meetings were held : and we cannot but observe the imperfect notions of political justice and civil rights, when among their com plaints, they charge on the British government as a crime their doing a portion of justice to the catholics of Canada : such is the force of prejudice, religious instruction, and early impressions. The Bostonians were now indeed cruelly treat ed ; but they were upheld by all the states ; and the congress was now assembled (the latter part of September, 1774) : Patrick Henry first spoke, and gave a manly tone to the meeting : events had presented the subject ; it was not a matter of choice. The first question necessarily was : " Shall we make common cause with Boston 1" and after a month's delay, or of protracted discussions, the congress (on Oct. 6, 1774) resolved upon supporting Boston ; still, however, pray ing a reconciliation. In their resolutions they declare them selves his majesty's loyal subjects : they declare they are Englishmen, and want only Englishmen's rights: and they especially demand to be restored to the situation they were in in 1763 ; that is, after the French war, in which the French lost Canada, and before Sir George Grenville's stamp act. After a variety of useful resolutions, and a declaration not to support the slave-trade, the formation of committees, and the establishment of provincial congresses, they dissolved i hut resolved to meet again in May, 1775, in Philadelphia. This then was not a dissolution, but an adjournment of the con-< gress, which afterward declared for independence. At this time Thomas Paine must have embarked from England ; for he arrived at Philadelphia in the winter of 1774. The local congress formed two committees : one of safety, which pro vided a militia ; and the other a committee of supplies, which provided for them, and other necessary expenses. A new parliament in England was much divided. The king, in his THE BATTLE OF LEXINGTON. 47 speech, was unfavorable to the colonies : Lord Chatham, and the greatest men in the ministry, in favor of them : while Lord North still attempted to intimidate the people by unjust acts. He proposed a bill to restrict the people of New Eng land from fishing ; and performed other irritating acts of tyranny. In the colonies the military seized on several col lections of arms and stores : but the militia being sanctioned by the local congresses, retaliated ,^ as these assemblies de clared the supplies collected in forts necessary for the safety of the state : thus the people of Province, in New Hampshire, took the stores from Forts William and Maria. In Virginia Patrick Henry trained a company-. At this period Paine had arrived, and was engaged on various periodicals by Mr. Aitkin, of Philadelphia ; in which situation he necessarily became acquainted with the local politics ; while, from his recent arrival, he knew also public feeling in Great Britain : and thus he was becoming matured for what he afterward so well effected. Dr. Franklin had, too, returned to the colonies, and took the place df another deputy in Congress ; Thomas Jef ferson, likewise, took the place of another member : and thus events gradually led on the cause of independence; while not a word on the subject was uttered, even by those who wished it ; for they had no hopes of seeing the people unanimous, and really expected that any proposition of the kind would subdivide those struggling against the tyranny of the British government. In April, 1775, an important event occurred. General Gage marched a few troops to Concord to seize some military stores. The people knew his design, and resolved on. oppo sition. At Lexington a few militia were drawn up to watch his motions, but with strict orders not to molest him. These General Gage ordered to disperse ; and after repeating his orders, fired on the body, and killed eight militiamen. The militia dispersed ; but some of them returned the fire. The British colonel (Smith) now moved on to Concord ; during which time the militia assembled in great numbers, resolved to harass the troops on their return. The stores were re moved from Concord, except a little flour, which Col. Smith destroyed, and then commenced a retreat; but the British 48 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. were met at every pass, and annoyed by secret foes along the whole Toad ; and it is probable that the whole force of nine hundred men would have been destroyed, had not Lord Percy brought a re-enforcement to his rescue. In Virginia, about the same time, the king's troops seized on a quantity of powder ; but being pursued by Patrick Henry, who sud denly raised five thousand men, the value of the powder was recovered. In Massachusetts an army was immediately rais ed, and the command given to Putnam, who had fought in the Canada war. This man, who was one of the best revolution ary generals, had to lay by his leather apron when he became a general. The provincial troops now seized on the military stores wherever they could; and thus the example of the king's troops afforded the first means of getting supplies. In this year Colonel Ethan Allen and Arnold not only took the stores, but the fort of Ticonderoga, by surprise. The British at this time were commanded by Howe, Clinton, and Bur goyne. An offer of pardon was made to those who would lay down their arms, excepting Samuel Adams and Hancock : this last, as a compliment to the distinction shown him by the British, was made president ofthe congress : but he was more remarkable for his wealth and courage than abilities. On the 15th of June, Washington received the chief command : he declined a salary, and only wished his expenses paid. On the 16th of June, General Putnam ordered Colonel Pres cott to take possession of Bunker's hill, with a thousand men. By some mistake Breed's hill was occupied instead ; and the general himself assisted in throwing up a breastwork during the night. To dispossess the Americans of this post, the fa mous battle of Bunker's hill was fought ; which, though lost by the Americans, was so honorable to them, that it served as a watchword during the war, and as a grateful monument since. The men accustomed to the rifle repeatedly repulsed the enemy by reserving their fire till the approaching column was very near, and offered marks to be shot at. This coolness was altogether unexpected from raw troops ; and could it have been exercised in all subsequent engagements, the war which succeeded would have been of short duration. In the summer of 1775, an Irish regiment arrived to the assistance CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 49 of the Americans ; but as they were destitute of both arms and provisions, they were not at first very useful to the cause they came to serve. In July, Georgia sent deputies to con gress ; and in the same month congress published a declara tion, earnestly desiring a reconciliation with Britain : they for warded also a most humble petition to the king. The language o'f this petition is more humiliating than either the circum stances required, or the spirit of the, people could suggest ; and it was evidently drawn Up to satisfy that class of people who always hope for the best; and who, on this occasion, hoped to obtain by begging, what others knew very well could only be obtained by courage. But these good meaning men would have been lost to the party had their wishes not been attend ed to. The action on this petition was afterward of great im portance. In the meantime the congress did not trust to petitioning : they did something more substantial ; they train ed riflemen. In the south twelve volunteers travelled to Florida, and seized a vessel with fifteen thousand pounds of gunpowder in it ; and giving the captain bills on congress, brought it off. In the south Lord Dunmore proposed to liber ate the slaves, and arm them against their masters ; but he either could not, or did not effect much in that way. In the north, an expedition wa§ undertaken to Canada. St. John and Montreal were taken by Montgomery ; but Colonel Allen was made prisoner, Montgomery was killed, and Arnold had his leg broken : the expedition was not finally successful. Letters of marque were also granted. On the other side, Lord Dunmore burned Norfolk, and threatened other places. >'¦ At this period, late in the year 1775, Paine was engaged on] his " Common Sense." About January, 1776, accounts were received that the petition forwarded to the king, from which so much was hoped by a part of the people, had been reject ed ; and no answer was deigned in reply. The same oppor tunities brought accounts of foreign troops (Hessians) being engaged to combat the colonies ; and that a large armament was coming out. Mr. Penn had indeed been examined at the", bar of the house of commons ; and his examination proved I that the colonists had then no thoughts of independence. | They were now operated on by anger and fear : anger at the | 7 50 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. contemptuous treatment of their petition ; and fear for the consequences of resistance, and at the force about to be brought against them. Yet none talked of independence, but a few of no weight in society ; as none of the leaders would risk their popularity in supporting what appeared hopeless : yet Jefferson, Franklin, Patrick Henry, and others, evidently wished independence : but this could only be supported by the unanimity of the body of the people ; and these did not dare to dream of it. At this period of excitement, anger, and fear, Paine published his " Common Sense ;" and boldly pro posed independence, as the best means to get out of the diffi culties into which they had now plunged ; and as an object .alone worth fighting for. This pamphlet effected wonders : it overcame difficulties apparently insurmountable, for it re moved prejudices, generally a hopeless task : it convinced the people that the British constitution was not the best that could be, and that a government of kings, lords, and commons, might not be the essence of all that is excellent in each ; but that the union might retain much that was bad in each : he satisfied the people of the disadvantages of carrying on war with a government whose authority was acknowledged : and he opened to them the resources within their power, and hinted at the possibility of getting foreign help as an indepen dent nation. He| produced, what his writings generally did produce, a change of opinion. The pamphlet was read from north to south ; everybody talked about it ; and each seemed surprised that he had not had the same thoughts, so clear did the propositions appear as explained in "Common Sense." The boldness of the language, indeed, alarmed those who are in the habit of understanding for other people : they had no objection to it themselves, but they thought the people not yet prepared for such opinions ; and some ludicrous scenes occurred. The people, indeed, were not prepared : they read first from curiosity, and then became convinced. Paine abso lutely produced the events he sought. He wanted a declara tion of independence, and he produced the wish for it. Clio Rickman observes, in a note on Cheetham's life of Paine, that— EFFECTS OF " COMMON SENSE." 51 "When 'Common Sense' arrived at Albany the convention of New York was in session : General Scott, a, leading mem ber, alarmed at the boldness and novelty of its arguments, mentioned his fears to several of his distinguished colleagues, and suggested a private meeting in the evening for the purpose of writing an answer. They accordingly met, and Mr. M'Kesson read the pamphlet through. At first it was deemed both necessary and expedient to answer it immediately, but casting about for the necessary arguments they concluded to adjourn and meet again. In a few evenings they assembled, but so rapid was the- change of opinion in the colonies at large in favor of independence, that they ultimately agreed not to oppose it." When Mr. Paine saw the avidity with which his book was read, as he had not published for interest but principle, he generouoly gave the copyright to every state. His own ob servations on the subject are these : — "Politics and self-interest have been so uniformly connect ed that the world from being so often deceived has a right to be suspicious of public characters. But with regard to my self, 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 opportunity in which I thought I could do some good, and I followed exactly what my heart dictated. I neither read books, nor studied other people's opinions — I thought for myself. The case was this : — During the suspension of the old government in America, both prior to and at the breaking ont of hostilities, I was struck with the order and decorum with which everything was conducted, and impressed with the idea that a little more than what societyjiaturailjr-pfirXormed was all the government that wSXpecessary. On these principle s~T"pTrMrsbed~ the parii- phlet ' Common Sense.' The success it met with was beyond anything since the in vention of printing. I gave the copyright up to every state in the Union, and the demand run to not less than one hun dred thousand copies, and I continued the subject under the title of ' American Crisis,' till the complete establishment of the American revolution. ' The disinterested conduct of Mr. Paine, considering the enormous quantity that was sold, is a remarkable trait in his character, and one which should excite in the breast of every 52 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. American citizen a lively sense of gratitude. Paine, at this time, was yet a poor man. It would have been perfectly hon orable in him to take the ordinary profit. That profit on " Common Sense" alone must have been enormously large, and a large profit could have been made on each number ofthe "Cri sis ;" and Paine, without the slightest imputation on his char acter, could have realized a handsome fortune, while he ren dered a most important service to his adopted country. We know of no example of the kind ; some rich men publish for principle, but we know of no poor man, who had the tempta tion of popularity to anything like the extent which Mr. Paine enjoyed by this publication, who gave to the public his copyright. He stands, therefore, alone, as a remarkable in stance of great generosity and public spirit. Mr. Paine was never an extravagant man. While in public life, and in the enjoyment of a moderate competency, he lived like a gentle man in this country, in England, and in France : but when in retirement, both in France and in this country, at a late peri od of his life, when many of his former friends avoided an intimacy for fear of the unpopularity of his religious opinions, he then evidently became careless of appearances, and, though always well clothed, comfortably lodged, and possessed of the comforts of life, yet, in his old age, his style of living was . mean. Yet what can we say of the meanness of a man, who \ thus nobly gives up thousands, glorying in the act, and per severing in it, in all his successive political and theological publications 1 The only answer is that he had not an ex travagant taste, and this enabled him to be generous ; while this taste, at variance with the taste of others in equal cir cumstances, will necessarily appear parsimonious. Had Paine been less parsimonious, he would probably have been less generous. His capability of living on a little, evidently suggested the idea that great riches were unnecessary in a private situation. / " The time was now arrived," says Sherwin, " when our author was to take an active as well as a decisive part in pub lic affairs. The declaration of independence had removed the scene of political warfare from the closet to the camp, and it was now become necessary to try the strength of public paine's "common sense." 53 patriotism by bringing it into the field of military operations. Warlike preparations were immediately set on foot by the Americans. Many individuals of respectability volunteered their services in support of their country's freedom, and among the foremost of them was Mr. Paine. In this capaci ty he was introduced to the friendship of the Marquis -de la Fayette, who was likewise serving as a volunteer in the Amer ican army. The officers treated our author with every possi ble mark of respect ; at their tables he was hailed as a wel come guest, and General Washington himself neglected no opportunity of showing the high opinion he enteftained of his talents and integrity." Cheetham, in spite of his prejudices, gives the following brief account of Paine's services at this time : — i' When ' Common Sense' was written, the friends of inde pendence were not republicans. Paine's invectives against monarchy were intended against the monarchy of England, rather than against monarchy in general, and they were pop ular in the degree to which the measures and designs of the British cabinet were odious. The question, when no alterna tive but colonial vassalage or national independence presented' itself, was one merely of independence, for, as Mr. Adams truly remarked, the colonists had no wish but for the 'imme morial liberties of their ancestors.' To this may be added the observation of Dr. Franklin, that they could not even hope for a government under which they could enjoy liberties more precious. On the fourth of July, 1776, congress declared the colonies 'free and independent states,' which was as soon after the publication of 'Common Sense,' Paine remarks, ' as the work could spread through such an extensive country.' Paine now accompanied the army of independence as a sort of itinerant writer, of which his pen was an appendage almost as necessary and formidable as its cannon. Having no prop erty, he fared as the army fared, and at the same expense, but to what mess he was attached I have not been able to learn, although, from what I hear and know, it must, I think, though he was sometimes admitted into higher company, have been a subaltern one. When the colonists drooped he revived them with a 'Crisis.' The first of these numbers he publish ed early in December, 1776. The object of it was good, the method excellent, and the language suited to the depressed spirits of the army, of public bodies, and of private citizens, cheering. Washington, defeated on Long Island, had retreat ed to New York, and been driven with great loss from Forts Washington and Lee. The gallant little army, overwhelmed 54 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. with a rapid succession of misfortunes, was dwindling away, and all seemed to be over with the cause, when scarcely a , blow had been struck. 'These,' said the 'Crisis,' 'are the \ times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sun- j shine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his I country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and I thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily j 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.' The number was read in the camp, to every corporal's guard, and in the army and out of it had more than the in tended effect. The convention of New York, reduced by dispersion occasioned by alarm, to nine members, was rallied and reanimated. Militiamen, who, already tired of the Avar, were straggling from the army, returned. Hope succeeded to despair, cheerfulness to gloom, and firmness to irresolution. To the confidence which it inspired may be attributed much of the brilliant little affair which in the same month followed at Trenton." The impression which this first number ofthe " Crisis" made on the public mind, is evident by the very first sentence being handed down already to two generations, as a sort of watch word : " These are the times that try men's souls ;" yet the dastardly enmity to Paine has suppressed the author. Thou sands use this expression, while individuals only know the origin of it. Yet the fact of this expression being thus hand ed doyvn even in spite of the personal prejudices against the man, clearly shows the impression this well-timed pamphlet must have made on the nation. The extract we have given scarcely shows the facts : the American army was dispirited • they were even brought into contempt by their unsoldierlike appearance in comparison, to the well-clothed, well-fed regu lars, preceded by elegant bands of music. The militia whose time was up were returning in disgust ; the army appeared disbanded. It was Paine's task to reinstate it, to place honor where it was deserved, and to convert the despairing, degra ded, because despised soldier, into a warm patriot, and to con vert a feeling of scorn into one of encouragement; and this task Paine admirably performed. "The affair of Trenton elevating American confidence," as Cheetham remarks, "and breathing caution into the British SECRETARY TO THE FOREIGN DEPARTMENT. 55 army, Paine, in January, 1777, congratulated the ' free and in dependent states' in a second number of the 'Crisis.' It is addressed to Lord Howe, and ridicules his proclamation, ' commanding all congresses, committees, &ri., to desist and cease from their treasonable doings.' Against the king and his purposes, it is full of invective, but of a sort rather popu lar than exquisite. Fortunately for the United States the Brit ish commander-in-chief dealt more in impotent proclamations than in the efficacy of arms. Washington's retreat to Tren ton was a compulsive one. He had not from choice and by military skill drawn the Hessians into the toil in which they were ensnared. I do not believe that even a number of the ' Crisis' could have saved the American army and cause from annihilation, if Howe had been an active arid persevering, an enlightened and energetic commander. Washington's pa tience and care, his admirable coolness and prudence, although often, in the course of the war, provoked to battle by a thou sand irritating circumstances, by internal faction, and by British sneers, saved America to freedom; while the idle dis sipation of Howe, his devotion to licentious pleasures, his un- martial spirit and conduct, lost it to the crown. On the nineteenth of April, 1777, he published, at Philadel phia, the third number of the ' Crisis.' As there had been no military operations from the capture of the Hessians at Trenton, it was devoted to an examination of occurrences since the dec laration of independence, and to a repetition of the arguments which he had employed in ' Common Sense' in favor of inde pendence." At this time, or rather on the 17th of April, Mr. Paine was elected by congress secretary to the committee for foreign affairs. No man could be more suitable for this situation : and ably did he serve it. The duties of his office correspond ed with that of the English secretary for foreign affairs. He stood in the same relation to the committee as that officer did to the cabinet. All foreign communications were address ed to Mr. Paine, and by him perused, and then laid before the committee by whose instructions he acted. In his foreign communications he assumed the same title which the British minister did who performed the same task. On this subject Cheetham is very spiteful, and supposes he did so from van ity ; and insidiously mentions the amount of the paltry salary which Mt. Paine received, as a sort of presumptuous evidence that he ought not, with such a salary, to call himself " secre tary for foreign affairs." But the fact is, it was policy in 56 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. Mr. Paine to do so : he wrote then in the style of an equal, and assumed a proper dignity useful to his adopted country. In the early part of September, 1777, Sir William Howe and Cornwallis were pushing on the line of the Brandywine tow ard Philadelphia ; and to satisfy the public mind, Washing ton was obliged to risk a battle. He did so, and lost the battle ; but being ably assisted by La Fayette, and other French and Polish officers, he made good his retreat, without any very serious injury. On this occasion Paine published his fourth " Crisis ;" short, but admirably adapted to the purpose ; and the morale or confidence of the army increased, so that, could they have fought the battle over again, the soldiers would have done it. While Washington was engaged with Howe and Cornwallis near Philadelphia, General Gates was watching the movements of Burgoyne, descending the Hudson ; and fell upon him at Saratoga, where the militia simultaneously joined him ; and Burgoyne, weakened by his march, and disappointed in the junction of the New York army with him in this neighborhood, was surrounded, and obliged to surrender. Howe, aware of this, and not being able to bring Washington to a general en gagement, became predatory in his warfare : on which occa sion Paine brought out his fifth " Crisis ;" which, as Sherwin remarks — ''Was published at Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, March, 1778. It consists of a letter addressed to General Sir William Howe, and an 'Address to the Inhabitants of America.' The advantages gained by General Howe he considers of so trifling a nature, as rather to prove the impotence of his troops, than to show their ability to prosecute their object. He cites the retreat of the British as a confirmation of this conclusion. He ridicules, with considerable force, the vanity of attaching importance to titles, and the pretensions which Sir William had set forth to the esteem of the Americans. He is very severe on the mean and cowardly conduct of Sir William in distributing forged continental bills. If this charge were true, and the evidence given is too conclusive to admit of its being doubted, it is a most disgraceful circumstance to those employed in carrying on the war.* In the conduct of an army there are certain * The only parallel to this proceeding that I have ever heard of, is the con duct of Pitt toward the French in 1795. It has been said that Mr. Pitt was the inventor of this cowardly species of warfare ; but this the reader will perceive to FORGED CONTINENTAL MONEY. 57 acts which we consider dishonorable, and which a commander who values his character will always be careful to prevent. These are not laid down by any law ; because, when countries are at war with each other, law is totally out of the question : they depend on the disposition of a general and the discipline of his troops. But of all the low, drivelling practices that were ever resorted to by an army to distress a people with whom it was at war, the project of forging their bills is the most despicable- It is in a moral sense what assassination is in a physical sense ; and ought never to be resorted to except as a measure of retaliation. It is, however, impossible to rep robate the practice in stronger terms than Paine has done in the publication before us. ' You, sir,' says he, in the address to Sir William, 'have abetted and patronised the forging and uttering counterfeit continental bills. In the same New York newspapers in which your own proclamation under your mas ter's authority was published, offering or pretending to offer pardon and protection to the inhabitants of these states, there were repeated advertisements of counterfeit money for sale ; and persons who have come officially from you, and under 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 join in condemning you. It is an incendiary war upon society, which nothing can excuse or palliate : an improvement upon beggarly villany ; and shows an inbred wretchedness of heart, made up between the venomous malignity of a serpent, and the spiteful imbecility of an inferior reptile.' The severity of these reproaches finds an apology in the circumstances of the case ; for though the language is harsh, it is nevertheless just ; and the fault lies with the person who deserves, not with him who applies it. There, perhaps, is not any species of composition which, in a few years, becomes so dry and insipid as disquisitions upon the politics of the day ; and those writers who have been able to give to such a subject a permanent interest, must be allow ed to possess talents of a superior description. The ability displayed by Paine in the productions before us, has conferred a lasting importance on events which, passing through the icy medium of distant history, would have met with but little attention. He makes us feel as well as see the objects 'he is writing upon ; and though in some instances he does not at tempt to give his language that high polish of which it is sus ceptible, yet we soon discover the intrinsic value of his senti ments, and we respect the rough exterior as an evidence of the be an unfounded supposition. Not that I wish to deprive Mr. Pitt of any of the infamy of such an expedient. I merely mention it to show, that in one of his most dishonorable schemes he was no more than a common imitator. 58 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. author's sincerity, while a multitude of graces would only tend to bring his motives into suspicion. The subsequent part of the letter to General Howe discov ers a fund of thought, penetration, and feeling. Though 1 intend to be as brief as possible in making extracts from works which cannot be properly appreciated unless they are perused entire, yet the following is so prophetically true, that I can not .resist the temptation of quoting it : — ' 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 has filled up both these characters 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 nations, America shall flourish, the favorite of Heaven, and the friend of mankind.' If the implicit supporters of arbitrary power and orthodox despotism will not admit Paine to have prophesied from in spiration, it is to be hoped they will allow him to possess the merit of sound judgment and rational reflection. At all events, his calumniators cannot deny that the foregoing prediction is fast verging toward its fulfilment. Our author concludes No. V. with an address to the inhabitants of America. In this he exhorts them to fresh pe [severance ; and, after an elaborate description of the situation of the respective armies, he closes by proposing a plan for recruiting the American forces. The sixth number ofthe ' Crisis' was published at Philadel phia, in October, 1778. The subject is a letter to the earl of Carlisle, General Clinton, and William Eden, Esq., British commissioners at New YotIj. These gentlemen, in opposition to all the dictates of reason and experience, had issued a proclamation, calling upon the rebellious Americans to renew their allegiance to the king of Great Britain, whom they pom pously described as the 'rightful sovereign' of America. The treaty which had recently been concluded between America and Prance, appears to have been the principal cause of this fresh display of folly. The pains which the poor commis sioners were at to make themselves and their royal master appear ridiculous, were in strict conformity with the blunder ing policy which had given rise to their appointment ; and their promises and pardons, their flattery and threats, were alike unavailing. The government of England, instead of being looked upon as an affectionate parent, was now regard ed as an unnatural monster, who had sought to strangle her infant offspring. Even those who at first had been the most zealous friends of reconciliation, were by this time deprived of all their long-cherished hopes ; for they clearly saw that a THE CRISIS SILAS DEANE. 59 reunion with the British government would be the certain forerunner of the most abject slavery. The pretensions and offers of the commissioners were, therefore, either spurned as an insult to the people, or ridiculed as a silly display of ima ginary power. And when to this state of things we add the previous capture of General Burgoyne, their situation becomes truly pitiable. With such materials to work upon, it is im possible that a man of any ability would write ill ; and we therefore need not wonder that they furnished Paine with the groundwork of one of the best numbers of the ' Crisis.' As an analysis of this production would not tend in any degree to do justice to the writer's merits, I shall avoid making ex tracts from this as well as the subsequent numbers ; recom mending to the reader an attentive perusal of the whole, as the only mode of enabling himself to appreciate the talents, perseverance, and patriotism of the author. The seventh number of the ' Crisis' was published at Phila delphia, Nov. 21, 1778. It consists of a letter to the people of England. The object of this number appears to have dif fered in some degree from that of its immediate predecessor : the one being written for the purpose of convincing the gov ernment, and the other of proving to the people the improba bility of subduing America. The delusive hopes with which the ministry had amused the nation, the disgrace which must attend the hitherto invincible armies of England, and the wickedness of any man in even wishing those armies to be successful, are exposed with an ability which must have been most severely felt by the enemies, and warmly applauded by the friends of independence. The number likewise contains some excellent reflections on the subject of national honor and the mischievous effects of national vanity. In January, 1779, our author resigned his situation of sec retary for foreign affairs. This resignation was in conse quence of a disagreement which had taken place between the congress and Mr. Paine, respecting a person of the name of Silas Deane. In the early part of the war, it appears that this man had been employed by the committee for foreign affairs 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 as regular merchandise. Without waiting the issue of his separate mission, he was soon after nominated with Dr. Franklin and Mr. Lee, who proceeded to the court of Louis for the same purpose. The French monarch, more perhaps from his hostility to the English gov ernment, than from any attachment to the American cause, gladly acceded to the request ; and the supplies were imme diately furnished from the king's arsenal. As France was then to all appearance upon amicable terms with England, a pledge was given by the American commissioners that the 60 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. grant 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 ad vantage of the secresy which had been promised by the com missioners, presented a claim for compensation in behalf of himself and Beaumarchais ; thinking, perhaps, that the audit ing committee would prefer a compliance with his fraudulent demand, rather than expose their ally, the, king of France, to a rupture with England. At first there appeared an inclina tion to comply with his request ; and Mr. Paine, perceiving this, and knowing the circumstances of the case, resolved on 1 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 i these he exposed, without ceremony, 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 himself soon afterward ab sconded to England. For this piece of service. to the Americans our author was thanked and applauded by the body of the people ; but by this time a party had begun to form itself, whose principles, if not the reverse of independence, were the reverse of republicanism. These men, as individuals, had long envied the popularity of Mr. 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 expressing his indignation against the claims of Mr. Deane, had mentioned one or two circumstances that had come to his knowledge in consequence of his office ; a plan was immediately formed for depriving him of his situation ; and, accordingly, a motion was made by one of the members for an order to bring him before the 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 for foreign affairs ;' but the motion was lost upon a division. Mr. Paine then. wrote to congress, requesting that he might be heard in his defence, and Mr. Laurens made a motion for that purpose, which was negatived. The next day he sent in his resignation, conclu ding with these words: 'As I cannot, consistently with my character as a freeman, submit to be censured unheard ; there fore, 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 de gree, be attributed to a desire to quiet the fears of the French CLERK TO PENNSYLVANIA LEGISLATURE. 61 ambassador, who had become very dissatisfied in consequence of its being known to the world that the supplies were a pres ent from his master. To silence his apprehensions, and pre serve the friendship of the French court, they treated Paine with ingratitude. This they acknowledged at a future period by a grant; of which we shall have occasion to speak in its proper place. Our author was now deprived of the means of obtaining a livelihood ; and not being disposed to render his literary labors subservient to his personal wants, he engaged himself as clerk to Mr. Biddle, an attorney at Philadelphia. Mr. Paine's dispute with the congress produced no change in his patriotism. On every occasion he continued to display the same degree of independence and resolution which had produced his first animated efforts in favor of the republican cause. Neither personal altercation, nor pecuniary embar rassments, had any effect upon his principles. He had enlisted himself as a volunteer in the American cause ; and he vindi cated her rights under every change of circumstance, with the unabated ardor of a freeman. Soon after the resignation of his secretaryship, our author was chosen clerk of the legislature of Pennsylvania. This appointment is a proof that, though he had some enemies, he had many friends ; and that the insidious insinuations of the former had not been enabled to weaken the attachment of the latter. In March, 1780, Mr. Paine published the eighth number of the ' Crisis.' The subject of this is a second address to the people of England. It is written much in the same style as the one which preceded it. From all that had taken place, it was apparent that America was beyond the reach of conquest ; and seeing this, he very properly asks the English people what their motive was in protracting a contest which appear ed to be fraught with nothing but self-destruction. He dwells with great emphasis on the calamities of war ; and represents the people of England as ignorant of any of its effects, except that of taxation. He could not have had a better opportunity of depicting the miseries of military contention ; and the por trait he has drawn is as natural as life. In June following, he published at Philadelphia the ninth number of the ' Crisis.' This seems to have been written for the purpose of consoling the Americans for the loss of Charles- town, which had recently fallen into the hands of the British. He reasons with considerable force and ingenuity on the in significance of such a conquest ; and consoles his readers by reflecting that similar misfortunes were unavoidable during a state of local warfare ; and that they were in some measure advantageous, inasmuch as, without endangering the real 62 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. safety of the country, they were sufficiently injurious to pre vent its being lulled into the lap oLfalse security. In the beginning of October, 1780, our author published, at Philadelphia, a long discussion on the subject of taxes, under the title of 'A Crisis Extraordinary.' He draws a comparison between the extent of taxation in the respectiye countries of England and America : he shows, from calculation, that the former exceed the latter in more than a tenfold degree ; and concludes by recommending the plan of congress ; that of funding its paper, and issuing a new coinage asa substitute. Notwithstanding the determined hostility of the Americans toward the English, their army was considerably oppressed for want of pecuniary means ; and to this cause, more than to any other, we may attribute the apparent hardiness of their operations about this period. In the course of his reflections, he takes an opportunity of repeating his former arguments against the tyranny, folly, and avarice of the English govern ment : he treats the difficulties of the country as affairs of a temporary character, which a little privation and perseverance would speedily remove. While those financial discussions were pending, the con gress resolved upon attempting a more effectual plan for re moving the public embarrassments, than could be derived from any application of the internal resources of the states. Mr. Paine drew up a letter to Count Vergennes, stating the difficulties in which the country was placed ; and concluding with a request that France would, either as a subsidy, or as a loan, supply the United States with a million sterling, and continue that supply annually during the war. This letter Mr. Paine showed first to M. Marbois, the French minister's secretary. He objected to the application by observing, that ' a million sent out of a nation exhausted it more than ten millions spent in it.' Our author was not to be baffled in his design by this rebuff; and he accordingly presented his scheme to Mr. Isard, member for South Carolina. This gen tleman readily agreed to bring the subject before congress ; which he did very shortly afterward. The congress, after a very short discussion, acceded to the proposal; and a mission to the court of France was resolved upon immediately. Colonel Laurens, son of the late president of congress, was appointed to negotiate the affair ; and, at his anxious solici tation, Mr. Paine accompanied him to Paris. They sailed in February, 1781, and arrived in France the following month. Their mission was attended with more success than was ex pected. They obtained six millions of livres as a present, and ten millions as a loan, borrowed in Holland on the secu rity of France. They sailed from Brest at the beginning of June, and arrived at Boston in August; having under their MR. PAINE GOES TO FRANCE. 63 charge two millions and a half in silver, exclusive of a ship and brig laden with clothing and military stores. From the account which Mr. Paine gives of himself, it ap pears that he had, some time previous to this, formed a design of coming over to England, for the purpose of exposing to the people the folly and perversity of their rulers. 'T was,' he observes, ' 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, that I could open the eyes of the country with respect to the madness and stupidity of its government.'* He would have carried his intention into effect almost immediately, but for the advice of his friend General Greene ; who, it appears, fully approved ofthe plan: but the affair of Arnold' and Andre happening shortly after ward, the general altered his mind, and wrote very pressingly to Mr. Paine to dissuade him from his design. With some reluctance he consented to adopt the general's advice ; both parties conceiving that his personal safety would be greatly endangered by any attempt at that time to carry his scheme into practice. During our author's voyage to France with Col. Laurens, another event occurred which confirmed the propriety and practicability of this project. An English packet, from Fal mouth to New York, was taken by a French privateer ; and, owing to an artful stratagem of the French captain, the gov ernment despatches in the packet were secured and brought on board his vessel. They were sent to Paris to the French minister, Count Vergennes ; who, after reading them, pre sented them to Col. Laurens and Mr. Paine, to be conveyed to America for the information and use of congress. What the contents of these despatches were is not known ; but it appears that they afforded Mr. Paine a better opportu nity of judging of the perfidy and intrigue of the English cabinet than could have been done by any other means. This circumstance renewed his former plan respecting the British government ; but Colonel Laurens being unwilling to return alone, Mr. Paine was induced to postpone its execution to a more favorable opportunity." Previous to this period the French had declared in favor of the United States. The campaign of 1778 was arranged in Paris, and a French army and fleet co-operated with Wash ington ; yet, after the capture of Burgoyne no decisive ac tion was fought till the capture of Cornwallis in 1780. The war for several years was chiefly predatory in the south, and * 'Rights of Man,' Part II., p. 70. 64 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. General Howe, Cornwallis, and the traitor Arnold, laid waste the states of South Carolina, North Carolina, and Georgia ; but their troops were continually harassed by the activity and skill of the American general, Greene, who from a black smith became one of the best generals in the service of the states. During this year (1780), the finances were in the most wretched state ; the paper-money depreciated to a most alarming extent, and it was evidently impossible to raise the supplies by taxes. Washington's private accounts to the congress clearly revealed the miserable state of the army, while their published accounts deceived the enemy. Mr. Paine, by his " Common Sense," had previously produced the declaration of independence, and the unanimity of the peo ple. The- " Crisis," published as we have seen from time to time, preserved that unanimity, and in a great measure reg ulated the tone of public feeling. But Mr. Paine was not backward fn his personal services : on one occasion when with the army, he formed apian to destroy a part of the enemy's shipping, and offered to conduct the enterprise. This he ex plains in one number of the " Crisis," and shows that his ob ject was not merely to effect a loss to the English, but to abate their pride in the strength of their navy, and to encour age the spirits of the people, who thought the British ships- of-war impregnable. When the< finances were in the worst state, before Mr. Paine went to France, and when Washington feared the immediate dissolution of the army for want of pay and necessaries, Mr. Paine began a private subscription with five hundred, dollars, all the money he could then raise, inclu ding his salary as secretary. The subscriptions on this occa sion reached the large amount of three hundred thousand pounds; and this fund converted into a bank supplied the im mediate wants of the government, and enabled Washington to commence the preparation to encompass and subdue Corn wallis, and thus bring an end to the war. These preparations were facilitated by a knowledge of the success of Colonel Laurens's mission to France, assisted by Mr. Paine : and the supplies actually arriving while Washington's army was ma- nccuvring for the last great exploit, had, probably a consider able effect on the success of those manoeuvres. This was CORNWALLIS SURRENDERS. 65 evidently the opinion of Mr. Paine. New York was in pos session of the enemy, the headquarters of Clinton. The anxious solicitude of Washington was to recover this city. Washington's plans were apparently all directed to this ob ject ; and the chief attention of Clinton consequently bent on the retention of that place. Cornwallis was then at York- town, Va., on the Susquehannah. The French fleet, by pre tending to fly, drew out the English fleet till a re-eriforce- ment entered the Chesapeake, and then returned to take and keep possession of that bay. Troops marching from the south did not alarm Clinton ; re-enforcements from the west he was perhaps ignorant of; and the troops progressing down the Hudson from the jiorth he supposed destined to join Washington near New York. When these collections of troops were all within a few days' march of the Susquehan nah and Yorktown, Washington suddenly turned his own force in that direction. Clinton thought it a ruse, and remain ed inactive and thus was Cornwallis suddenly surrounded, in every direction, by sea and land, by the regulars, their auxili aries, the French and Poles, and by the militia. Cornwallis, unprepared for a siege, surrendered before he could be reliev ed by Clinton ; and thus a virtual end was put to the war, for till peace was restored, the British merely kept possession of New York, and one or two other stations, holding in subjec tion only the parts actually occupied by their armies. Just before this brilliant affair Mr. Paine arrived from France, bringing with him two millions of livres in cash and other supplies, forming the loading of a brig and a ship. Mr. Paine was instrumental in procuring these supplies, as he was better known (from the reputation of his writings) than Col. Laurens, who for that1 reason had desired his company. Whether these supplies were actually used to facilitate Washington's masterly movements we do not know, but as they were known to be coming, they gave the government and Wash ington a credit which they would not otherwise have enjoyed. Money and credit are the sinews of war, and are as necessary to success as unanimity. Paine has the merit of contributing to both in a very high degree. We shall quote again from Sherwin, the most accurate of Mr. Paine's biographers. 9 66 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. "In March, 1782, Mr. Paine published at Philadelphia the tenth number of the ' Crisis.' The king of England, proba bly with a view of' keeping the people in good humor with the expenses of the war, had delivered a speech at the recent opening of parliament in which the Americans were abused, and the English flattered, without any regard to truth or pro priety. On this document our author delivers his. opinion in terms of the severest reprobation. He satirizes the preten sions of the king to the title of sovereign of a free people, and draws an interesting parallel between the hardships of the Americans and those they would have suffered had the British been victorious. He concludes the number with an address to the people of America on the financial affairs ofthe states. In May, 1782, he published at Philadelphia the eleventh number of the 'Crisis:' 'On the present State of News.' It had been conjectured and rumored that the object of the Brit ish cabinet was to detach France from America, for the pur pose of making a separate peace with the former, in order that she might be enabled to bring- her whole force against the in dependence of the latter. However absurd and dishonorable such an attempt might appear, it would have been no more than a continuance of the policy which had induced the ministry to persist so long in a war where there was neither hope to en courage nor principle to sanction their conduct. The present number appears to have been written with a view to inform the public that such a design had been contemplated by the British court, and that want of means alone had prevented it from being carried into execution. In the same month, Mr. Paine published a supernumerary 'Crisis,' consisting of a letter to Sir Guy Carleton. This is a most forcible appeal to the English general respecting the barbarous murder of Captain Huddy, by a refugee of the name of Lippincot. Captain Huddy, of the Jersey militia, with a small party of Americans, had been attacked and taken prisoner by an armed force in the pay of the British, and car ried into New York. About three weeks afterward he was taken down to the water-side, put in a boat, and brought again upon the Jersey shore, where he was atrociously mur dered, under the direction of the refugee before mentioned. General Washington, determined that such an act should not pass without punishment, directed that lots should be cast by the British prisoners, for the purpose of selecting a victim in return for the murder of Captain Huddy. The lot fell upon Captain Asgill ; and Mr. Paine's letter to Sir Guy Carleton, was written with a view to induce him to give up the mur derer, and save the life of a brave and innocent officer. It does not appear that this request was ever complied with ; and Asgill, after suffering all the suspense, misery, and de- ADDITIONAL CRISIS. 67 spair, which naturally attend such a situation, was at last par doned through the humanity of the American general. In October, 1782, our author published, at Philadelphia, a letter to Lord Shelburne (afterward marquis of Lansdowne): this has since been classed as the twelfth number of the ' Crisis.' It is throughout an excellent production. The pol icy of concluding a peace with America, and acknowledging her independence, had on several occasions been discussed ; but Lord Shelburne, unable to discover the propriety of the measure, and acting under the influence of that silly vanity which forms so noble an attribute of the freeborn English man, had declared that ' the sun of Great Britain would set whenever she acknowledged the independence of America.' The sentiment contained in this declaration is treated with a poignant satire, which must have been severely felt bythe party with whom it originated. The war was now fast drawing toward a conclusion, and America was about to enjoy the benefits of the liberty for which she had so long and so ardently contended. The Brit ish cabinet was at length convinced of the total impossibility of conquering the Americans ; and the operations of the Eng lish declined in proportion as this conviction became more general. A definite treaty of peace was set on foot at Paris, toward the end of the year 1782, and concluded a few months | afterward. The triumphant situation of America — the grand and glorious effect of her courage and constancy, is admira bly described by Mr. Paine in the last number of the ' Crisis.' He congratulates the country on the happy conclusion of 'the times that tried men's souls :' he dwells with pleasure on the fair character which America had established among the na tions of the world ; and observes with truth, that she need never be ashamed to tell her birth, or relate the stages by which she rose to empire. Shortly after the publication of this piece, Mr. Paine wrote a reply to a pamphlet by Lord Sheffield, on the subject of American commerce. This is classed with our author's previous productions as a supernu merary ' Crisis.' To have preserved an exact chronological order, we ought to have noticed two other pamphlets, written by him some time previous to the cessation of hostilities. The first of these is entitled 'Public Good;' being an examination ofthe claim of Virginia to the vacant western territory. The method in which the case js investigated, discovers all the acuteness and ability which might be expected from the author ; but as the subject is not now a matter of interest, even to the American reader, it is not here necessary to enter into the discussion. There is, however, one circumstance connected with the performance which ought not to be omitted, as it serves to show the disinterested character of Mr. Paine, and 68 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. his determination to publish his opinions unbiased and un shackled, even though they should militate against his own private interests. The part which our author espoused in the dispute was in opposition to the claim of Virginia, though it was well known to him at the time that a proposition was pending before the assembly of that state, for granting hinr a pecuniary compensation for his writings in favor of independ ence. Before the publication of ' Public Good,' the major ity of the members were decidedly in favor of the grant ; but on the appearance of the pamphlet, they suddenly changed sides, and the motion was lost by a single vote ! Such is the reward of ingenuous patriotism and a love of. truth! With facts like this before us, we may cease to wonder that so many seemingly disinterested individuals, in every age and country, are continually drawn into the vortex of sycophancy and apostacy. In 1782, he published a letter to the Abbe Raynal. The object of this letter was to clear up the mistakes, and expose the errors into which the abbe had fallen in his history of the American revolution. Among other things the abbe had as serted that none of those energetic causes, which had pro duced so many revolutions upon the globe, had existed in North America ; that neither religion nor laws had there been outraged ; that the blood of martyrs had not streamed from scaffolds ; that morals had not been insulted ; that neither manners, customs, habits, nor any other object dear to nations, had there been the sport of ridicule ; and that the only question was, whether the mother-country had or had not a right to lay a small tax upon the colonies. To correct and refute such misrepresentations as these, a reference to facts was barely necessary. They were almost too palpable to require a confutation ; and the popular character of the abbe in the literary world alone accounts for their obtaining- a currency. That such a warm and enlightened friend of humanity and freedom, as the Abbe Raj'nal, should be mis taken in his ideas of the American revolution, is at first aston ishing ; but men who from their cradles have been surround ed by despotism, and who have only contemplated the bles sings of liberty as a' distant though delightful vision, are incapable of forming an opinion on so great an event. A long habit of beholding the acts of tyranny almost unfits the mind for the contemplation of any other object; and to this, more than to any other cause, must be attributed the mistaken con jectures and disordered statements of the Abbe Raynal. From a comparison between some of the abbe's observa tions and those contained in 'Common Sense,' on the subject of society and government, it appears that the abbe had bor rowed very freely from the latter. Some of his remarks are a literal transcript, with the exception of a few words. Among PAINE AND WASHINGTON. 69 other things which he had misstated, was the account of the affair at Trenton, which I have already had occasion to notice. The abbe had described this as a mere accidental occurrence, falling, as he says, ' within the wide empire of chance.' This was a very unjust and ungenerous reflection. The highest praise was due to the American general and his troops, as the reader will perceive by turning to the account of the action ; and it is to be regretted that such a distinguished writer as the Abbe Raynal should have been misled on the subject, for no person could have done it more justice. After exposing the abbe's errors and misrepresentations, Mr. Paine indulges himself in a variety of philosophical re flections. The following description of prejudice is so replete with originality and beauty, that I cannot forbear quoting it : — ' There is something exceedingly curious in the constitution and operation of prejudice. It has the singular ability of ac commodating itself to all the possible varieties of the human mind. Some passions and vices are but thinly scattered among mankind, and find only here and there a fitness of reception. But prejudice, like the spider, makes everywhere its home. It has neither taste nor choice of place, and all that it requires is room. There is scarcely a situation, except fire and water, in which the spider will not live. So, let the mind be as naked as the walls of an empty and forsaken tenement, gloomy as a dungeon, or ornamented with the richest abilities of thinking ; let it be hot, cold, dark, or light, lonely or inhabited, still pre judice, if undisturbed, will fill it with cobwebs, and live, like the spider, where there seems nothing to live on. If the one prepares her food by poisoning it to her palate and her use, the other does the same ; and as several of our passions are strongly characterized by the animal world, prejudice may be denominated the spider of the mind.' The spirit of universal philanthropy which formed so con* spicuous a feature in Mr. Paine's character, the powerful effect of his writings in favor of independence, and the talent which he possessed for philosophical and mechanical discussion, ren-. dered his society a valuable acquisition. Of his friendship with Dr. Franklin, and several other distinguished individuals, we have already had occasion to speak ; and of the esteem in which his services and character were held by General Wash* ington, we have several very unequivocal proofs in his conduct toward the end of the war. Soon after the definitive treaty of peace was concluded, the general took up his quarters at Rocky Hill, in the neighborhood of Princeton (where the con gress was then sitting), for the purpose of resigning his com^ mission. There he was informed that Mr. Paine had retired jto Bordentown, where he had a small property. Conceiving, 70 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. probably, that Mr. Paine's circumstances were not in the most flourishing condition, he very kindly wrote to him the follow ing letter : — ' Rocky Hill, Sept. 10, 1783. 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 of your works, and who, with much pleasure, subscribes himself Your sincere friend, G. Washington.' Mr. Paine was urged by several of his friends to make an application to congress for a compensation for his revolution ary writings ; but this he uniformly refused to do. That the man who had been the means of first rousing the country to a declaration of independence, and whose writings had after ward very materially contributed to the attainment of the object, was deserving of remuneration, no one could deny ; but Mr. Paine's services in this respect being entirely of a voluntary nature, he could not consent to petition the con gress for a pecuniary recompense. His writings, however meritorious and serviceable they might have been (and the most illiberal of his calumniators do not deny that their effects were great and universal), were dictated by the pure prin ciples of disinterested patriotism, and he could not degrade their character by converting them into a medium of sordid emolument. I am well aware of the attempts which have been made to show that Mr. Paine's patriotism was not of that disinterested nature here described, and when we see that these attempts are founded upon the resolutions of congress itself, it is not surprising that they should have been attended with some success among the weaker part of mankind. A short explan ation will, however, do away with the impressions which such reports are calculated to produce. Before offering any ob servations on the subject, we will first insert the resolutions as extracted from the journals of congress: — 'Friday, August 26, 1785. — On the report of a committee, consisting of Mr. Gerry, Mr. Petit, and Mr. King, to whom was referred a letter of the 13th from Thomas Paine : — ¦ INDEMNITY FROM CONGRESS. 71 Resolved, That the early, unsolicited, and continued labors of Mr. Thomas Paine, in explaining and enforcing the princi ples of the late revolution, by ingenious and timely publica tions upon the nature of liberty and civil government, have been well received by the citizens of these states, and merit the approbation of congress, and that in consideration of these services and the -benefits produced thereby, Mr. Paine is entitled to a liberal gratification from the United States.' ' Monday, October 3, 1785. — On the report of a committee, consisting of Mr. Gerry, Mr. Howell, and Mr. Long, to whom were referred sundry letters from Mr. Thomas Paine, and a report on his letter of the 13th of September : — Resolved, That the board of treasury take order for paying to Mr. Thomas Paine the sum of three thousand dpllars, for the considerations mentioned in the resolution of the 26th of August last.' That the congress granted, and that Mr Paine received, the three thousand dollars above mentioned, are facts beyond dispute. The only error is in the wording of the two resolu tions, which makes the grant appear the reverse of what it really was. The case was this : the salary which Mr. Paine received as secretary to the committee for foreign affairs was very small, being only eight hundred dollars a year, and the depreciation which took place in consequence of the immense and repeated issues of paper-money, reduced even this to less than a fifth of its nominal value. Mr. Paine, aware of the difficulties in which the congress were placed, forebore to harass them with any applications for money during the war, but after it was closed he addressed to them a letter request ing that they would make up the depreciation, with some other incidental expenses which he had been at in the discharge of his official duties. The letter was referred to a committee, of which Mr. Gerry was chairman. This gentlemen came to Mr. Paine and informed him that ' the committee had consult ed upon the subject, that they intended to bring in a hand some report, but they thought it best not to take any notice of Deane's affair or Mr. Paine's salary.' — ' They will indemnify you,' said he, ' without it. The case is, there are some motions on the journals of congress for censuring you with respect to Deane's affair, which cannot now be recalled, because they have been printed. We will, therefore, bring in a report that will supersede them, without mentioning the purport of your letter.' The grant was therefore an indemnity to Mr. Paine for the depreciation in his salary as secretary of the committee, and the reason for couching it in the terms above quoted, was to shield the congress from a confession of the injustice they had done our author for his conduct during the disputes about 72 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. the claims of Silas Deane. It was no more than he had a right to expect, and those who granted it had not much rea son to boast of their liberality, in performing what was merely an act of pecuniary justice. So much for the grant of three thousand dollars, the false language in which it is clothed, and the malevolent insinuations which it has given rise to. But though Mr. Paine had resolved not to make any appli cation to the congress on the score of his literary labors, he had several friends in the provincial assemblies who were de termined that his exertions should not pass unrewarded. I have already spoken of the proposition that was made to the assembly of Virginia for this purpose, and the cause of its failure. Similar motions were brought before the legislature of Pennsylvania and the assembly of New York ; the former of which gave him £500, and the latter the confiscated estate of a Mr. Frederick Devoc, 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 ele gant stone-house, beside extensive out-buildings, was a valu able 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.' Whatever opinion may be entertained of these in stitutions in general, it is evident that the one in question had been of considerable service to the Americans during the most eventful period of their struggle for independence; to say the least, it was therefore entitled to their gratitude. But when men find themselves in a state of ease and security, they are too apt to forget the means by which they obtained these advantages ; and the bank, without any regard to its past ser vices, was attacked as an establishment at variance with every principle of private security and public freedom. In the pamphlet before us Mr. Paine gives an elaborate and interest ing account of the rise and progress of the institution ; and as he was one of the first promoters of the scheme, a short ac count of it here will not be altogether unnecessary, although it will involve some repetition. The beginning of the year 1780 was a very distressing season for the Americans. The people, though not conquer ed, were depressed ; the soldiers, though not driven from the field, were destitute of resources, and such was their condi tion, that General Washington was, for a considerable time, in the daily dread of a general mutiny. In this state of affairs he addressed a letter to the Pennsylvania assembly, describing BANK OF NORTH AMERICA. 73 in the strongest terms the nature of his situation. At that period Mr. Paine was clerk of the assembly, and, as a part, of his duty, he was requested to read the letter. When this was done, he informs us, ' a despairing silence pervaded the house.' No one ventured to speak for a considerable time. At length one of the members arose and said: 'If the account in that letter is a true state of things, and we are in the situation there represented, it appears to me' in vain to contend the matter any longer. We may as well give up at first as at last.' Another of the members, more cheerful than the last, rose and expressed his hope that the house would not be overcome by despair; that the only way to get over the difficulty was by exertion ; and a motion for adjournment being made, the assembly separated without coming to any conclusion. America was, indeed, at this period, in a most critical situ ation. There now appeared no chance of retrieving her affairs by taxation, for the people were already overburdened, and the only mode that presented itself was that of a volun tary subscription. There was no time to be lost ; and, as a beginning, Mr. Paine, immediately on his return from the house, drew the salary due to him as clerk of the assembly, and enclosed five hundred dollars in a letter to Mr. M'Clena- ghan, proposing to him to commence a subscription, as the only means of alleviating the wants of the army. This gen tleman showed the proposal to several others who fully ap proved of it : a subscription was commenced, and after being attended with considerable success, the subscribers formed themselves into a bank, which soon answered all the purposes for which it was intended. In 1782, the subscribers were legally incorporated under the title of the 'Bank of North America,' which they held, with advantage to the public' Mr. Paine is clear in his opinion on paper-money : but he regards this bank as one of necessity in its origin, and of great service to the country during the latter part of the war, when the irredeemable notes issued by the government had lost their value by depreciation. Mr. Paine could not forget the services of the bank ; and hence he defended it efficiently against this attack, which he considered rude and unneces sary : yet he explicitly condemns the charter, which was made perpetual. This was the last public act of Mr. Paine previous to his departure for Europe. 1 ,'/ Thus we arrive at the conclusion of the second period of Mr. Paine's life. At this time he enjoyed the highest popu larity, and, as we have seen, the friendship of the most 10 74 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. enlightened patriots of the age. Mr. Paine was as much esteemed in his private life as in his public He was a wel come visiter to the tables of the most distinguished citizens : his manners and habits were those of a gentleman, which ren dered him agreeable, not only to the master of the family, but to the mistress also. He was full of anecdote, extremely social, and always mixed goodnature with his reflections. At a later period, in prospect of a dinner-party, Home Tooke remarked, that " he would venture to say that the best thing would be said by Mr. Paine." Indeed, his conversational powers were as distinguished as his tact for writing. An old lady, now a boardinghouse-keeper in Cedar street, remembers, when a girl, visiting Mr. Paine just after the war, when he took possession of his house and farm at New Rochelle, and gave a village-fete on the occasion ; she then only knew him as " Common Sense," and supposed that was his name. On that day he had something to say to everybody, and young as she was she received a portion of his attention ; while he sat in the shade and assisted in the labor of the feast, by cut ting or breaking sugar to be used in some agreeable liquids by his guests. Mr. Paine was then, if not handsome, a fine, agreeable looking man. Those disposed to censure Mr. Paine, find a subject in the affair of Deane : they say nothing can excuse his betrayal of the public secrets of office, even though it was for the benefit of the people, to resist an unjust claim on the public, and to expose a public robber. In this affair we must, however, re member, that when France wished the secret kept she was not at war with England ; but that when Paine made the ex posure France was at open war with England. Still, we are not disposed to defend the act ; while we acquit him of every moral impropriety. We think, with Sterne, in the case of Corporal Trim, who had disobeyed orders in the performance of an act of humanity, when he makes Uncle Toby say, " You did very right as a man, but very wrong as a soldier." Mr. Paine was placed in a position where he had the ' choice of two evils : in his choice he sacrificed himself for the benefit of the country. A man, l°ss generous, would have taken care of himself at all hazards. GOES TO EUROPE. 75 PART III. FROM MR. PAINE'S DEPARTURE FROM AMERICA IN 1787 TO HIS FINAL RETURN IN 1808, EMBRACING THE PERIOD OF THE FRENCH REVOLU TION AND DURATION OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC. " We are now," says Sherwin, " to follow Mr. Paine to a different scene from that in which he had been a prominent performer for nearly thirteen years. His desire of attacking the English government on the spot where its principles were still in full operation, had suffered no change or abatement, and as America no longer stood in need of his services, he resolved on putting his project into execution as soon as pos sible. In April, 1787, he set sail from the United States for France, and arrived in Paris after a short passage. His knowledge of mechanics and natural philosophy had before his departure procured him the honor of being admitted a member of the American Philosophical society ; he was like wise appointed master of arts by the university of Philadel phia. These academic honors, though not of much conse quence in themselves, were the means of introducing him to several of the most scientific men in France, and soon after his arrival he exhibited to the Academy of Sciences in Paris, the model of an iron bridge which had occupied much of his leisure time during his residence in America. This ingenious and useful production received the most unqualified approba tion of the academy, and it is but justice to Mr. Paine to observe, that his recommendations on this subject have been sanctioned and adopted by some of the most enlightened characters of the present age. Among those who have given their opinion on the subject, we ought to notice Sir Joseph Banks, who, in a letter to a friend in America, published some years ago, says : ' I expect many similar improvements from your countrymen, who think with vigor, and are in a great measure free from those shackles of theory which are impress ed on the minds of our people, even before they are capable of exerting their mental faculties to advantage.' From Paris Mr. Paine proceeded to London, where he ar rived on the third of, September. Before the end of that month he went to Thetford to see his mother, who by this time was borne down by age and penury. His father, it appears, had died during his absence ; and he hastened to the place of 76 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. his birth to relieve the wants of his surviving parent. He led a recluse sort of life at Thetford for several weeks, being princi- ' pally occupied in writing a pamphlet on the state of the nation, under the title of 'Prospects on the Rubicon.' This was pub lished in London, toward the end of the year 1787. The pur port of the work is an investigation of the causes and conse quences of the politics expected to be agitated at the approach ing meeting of parliament. A great variety of subjects are introduced, not only on government in general, but on what is usually termed political economy. Tlie principal portion of it is occupied with a discussion on the then unsettled state of the affairs of Holland, and a comparison between the pop ulation, revenues, wealth, and general condition of France and England. The Jrench revolution was at this period begin ning to bud forth, a spirit of inquiry was diffusing itself over the land, while in England the people were sunk into a state of torpid lethargy. ' The people of France,' Mr. Paine observes, ' were beginning to think for themselves, and the people of England were resigning up the prerogative of thinking.' , During the year 1788, Mr. Paine was principally occupied in building his bridge. For this purpose he went to Rotherham in Yorkshire, in order that he might have an opportunity of superintending the castings of iron, which were executed under the direction of his ingenious friend, Mr. Walker, the proprietor of the foundry at that place. For a copious account of the success which attended this project, the reader is referred to the author's letter to Sir George Staunton. This gentleman, who it appears possessed talent enough to appreciate the value of the performance, sent the letter to the Society of Arts, &c, in the Adelphi : its contents were deservedly regarded by the members of the society as a sub-" ject worthy of their notice, and it was unanimously determined that the letter should be published in their ' Transactions ;' but the moment the first part of 'Rights of Man' made its appearance, this determination was reversed, and the votaries and advocates of science became the voluntary tools of despotism. How thoroughly despicable must the minds of those men be, who could be gratified by such an act of pitiful meanness ! Mr. Paine had been at considerable expense in the erection of his bridge, which was principally defrayed by a Mr. White side, an American merchant. Of our author's connexions with this gentleman I have not been able to obtain any partic ulars which may be relied upon; but the probability is, that Mr. Paine had consigned over to him some of his property in America, and on the strength of this consideration had drawn upon him for money whenever he had wanted it. Be this as it may, it is certain he had overdrawn his account to a consid- CAUSES OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. "77 erable extent, and Whiteside becoming a bankrupt soon after ward, the assignees arrested him for the balance. From this disagreeable situation he was in a short time released by the kindness of two American merchants, who agreed to become his bail, Mr. Paine paying down a considerable portion of the money, which by this time he had received from America, and giving his promissory note for the remainder. The situation of France was by this period become a mat ter of great interest to all Europe, and as Mr. Paine was in confidential intercourse with the chief authors of the great scenes which were taking place, he hastened over to Paris, that he might have the pleasure of witnessing the downfall of Bourbon despotism." 'Mr. Paine's disinterested exertions in the cause both of French and English liberty can best be understood by taking a clear view of the French revolution ; and as Mr. Paine has himself given us the best concise history of that event, we shall offer no apology for its introduction here. Our' extract is taken from the " Rights of Man," a work which we must presently introduce as the principal political publication of Mr. Paine. In this work he quotes an expression of Mr. Burke, that, "All circumstances taken together, the French revolution is the most astonishing that has hitherto happened in the world." Mr. Paine then remarks : — " As wise men are astonished at foolish things, and other people at wise ones, I know not on which ground to account for Mr. Burke's astonishment ; 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 consequence of mental revolution previously exist ing in France. The mind of the nation had changed before hand, 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 cir cumstances that have contributed to produce it. The despotism of Louis XIV. united with the gayety of his court, 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 weak ness and effeminacy, made no other alteration than that of spreading a sort of lethargy over the nation, from which it showed no disposition to rise. 78 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. 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 parlia ment of Bourdeaux, went as far as a writer under a despotic government could well proceed : and being obliged to divide himself between principle and prudence, his mind often ap pears 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 despo tism, took -another line. His forte lay in exposing and ridicu ling the superstitions which priestcraft, united with statecraft, had interwoven with governments. It was not from the puri ty of his principles, or his love of mankind (for satire find philanthropy are not naturally concordant), but from his strong capacity of seeing folly in its true shape, and his irre sistible propensity 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 economize 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 some thing to their taste, and a spirit of political inquiry began to diffuse itself through the nation atthe time the dispute between England and the then colonies of America broke out. In the war which France afterward engaged in, it is very well known that the nation appeared to be beforehand 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 soldiers 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 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 79 took place in America from the principles of the American revolution, the publication of those events in France neces sarily connected themselves with the principles that produced them. Many ofthe facts were in themselves principles ; such as the declaration of American independence, and the treaty of alliance between France and America, which recognised 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 Amer ica 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 suspicion ; and a diplomatist is a sort of unconnected atom, continually 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 pub lication 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 admit ting to appear what he had undertaken to defend. The Amer ican 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 in America as an American officer, under a commission of congress, and bythe 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 joined 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, 1781 ; and by the ill man- 80 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. agement of the finances afterward, 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 min ister, Mr. Pitt, has frequently alluded to the state of the French finances in his budgets, without understanding the subject. Had the French parliaments been as ready to register edicts for new taxes, as an English parliament is to grant them, there had been no derangement in the finances, nor yet any revolution j 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 mihistry, 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 parlia ments, they were not operative. Disputes had long existed between the court and the parliament with respect to the ex tent of the parliament's authority on this head. The court insisted that the authority of parliament went no farther 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 with draw the edict as a matter of choiee, or to order it to be registered as a matter of authority. The parliaments on their parts insisted, that they had not only a right to remon strate, 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 direct authority, or to get over their heads by a ma- ncevre ; and for this purpose he revived the project of assem bling 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 par liaments 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 toward the revolution, it will be proper to enter into some particulars re specting it. The assembly of the notables has in some places been mistaken for the states-general, but was wholly a differ ent body; the states-general being always by election. The persons who composed the assembly of the notables were all nominated by the king, and consisted of one, hundred and STEPS TO THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 81 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 ma jority of one hundred and forty. To effect this, 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 majority of committees ; and, as. eleven votes would make a majority in a committee, arid 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 outvoted. But all his plans deceived him, and in the event became his overthrow. The then Marquis de la Fayette was placed in the second committee, 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 verbal charge against Calonne, for selling crown-land to the amount of two millions of livres, in a manner that ap peared to be unknown 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 the charge in writing. He replied that he would. The Count d'Artois did not demand it, but brought a message from 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 farther proceed ings were had, upon this affair but M. Calonne was soon after dismissed by the king, and went to iingland. As M. de la Fayette, from the experience he had had in America, was better acquainted with the science of civil gov ernment 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'Ar tois and M. de la Fayette upon various subjects. With respect to the arrears already incurred, the latter proposed to remedy them, by acommodating 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-prisons 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 attended to ; and with re spect 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, concur ring in the opinion that they had not authority. In a debate on the subject, M. de la Fayette said, that raising money by 11 82 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. taxes could only be done by a national assembly, freely elect ed by the people, and acting as their representatives. ' Do you mean,' said the Count d'Artois, ' the states-general V 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 V The other replied that he not only would do this, but that he he would go farther, and say, that the effectual mode would be, for the king to agree to the establishment of a constitution. As one of the plans had thus failed, that of getting the as sembly to act as a parliament, the other came into view, that of recommending. On this subject, the assembly agreed to recommend two new taxes to be enregistered by the parlia ment, the one a stamp-act, and the other a territorial tax, ot sort of land tax. The two have been estimated at about five millions sterling per annum. We have now to turn our atten tion to the parliaments, on whom the business was again de volving. The archbishop of Thoulouse (since archbishop of Sens, and now a cardinal) was appointed to the administration of the finances, soon after the dismission of Calonne. He was also made prime minister, an officer 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 a 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 conduct scarcely to be accounted for, he perverted ev ery opportunity, turned out a despot, and sunk into disgrace, and a cardinal. The assembly of the notables having broke up, the new minister sent the edicts for the two new taxes recommend ed by the assembly to the parliaments, to be enregistered They of course came first before the parliament of Paris, who returned for answer, that, with such a revenue as the na tion then 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. On this, the parliament immediately returned to Paris, renewed their session in form, and ordered the enregis- tering to be struck out, declaring that everything done at Ver sailles was illegal. All the members of parliament were then served with lettres de cachet, and exiled to Trois ; but as they * When the English minister, Mr Pitt, mentions the French finances again in the English parliament, it would be well that he noticed this as an example. STEPS TO THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 83 continued as inflexible in exile as before, and as vengeance did not supply the place of taxes, they were after a short tirrie 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 par liament-house, the crowd (which was numerously collected) threw out trite expressions, saying : ' This is Monsieur d'Ar tois, who wants more of our money to spend.' The marked disapprobation which he saw, impressed him with apprehen sions ; and the word aux arms (to arms) was given out by the officer of the guard who attended him. It was so loudly vo ciferated, that it echoed through the avenues of the house, and produced a temporary contusion : 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 declar ed, that although it had been customary for parliaments to enregister edicts for taxes as a matter of convenience, the right belonged only to the states-general ; and that, therefore, the parliaments 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 evening ; and, in a manner that appeared to proceed from him, as if unconsulted upon with the cabinet or minis try, gave his word to the parliament that the states-general should be convened. 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, that themselves must fall; and as the king had not mentioned any time, they hit on a project calculated to elude, without appearing to oppose. For this purpose, the court set about making a sort of con stitution itself: it was principally the work of M. Lamoignon, 84 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. keeper of the seals, who afterward shot himself. The ar rangement consisted in establishing a body under the name of a cour pleniere, or full court, in which were invested all the power that the government might have occasion to make use of. The persons composing this court to be nominated by the king ; the contended right of taxation was given up on the part of the king, and a new criminal code of laws, and law proceedings, was substituted in the room pf the former. The thing, in many points, contained better principles than those upon which the government had hitherto been adminis tered ; but, with respect to the cour pleniere, it was no other than a medium through which despotism was to pass, without appearing 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 eighth 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 govern ment 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 laRochefoucault, Luxembourg, de Noa- illes, and many others, refused to accept the nomination, and strenuously 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 contest renewed itself between the parliament and the cabinet more strongly than ever. While the parliament was sitting in debate on this subject, the ministry ordered a regi ment of soldiers to surround the house, and form a blockade. The members sent out for beds and provision, and lived as in a besieged citadel ; and as this had no effect, the command ing officer was ordered to enter the parliament-house and seize them, which he did, and some of the principal members were shut up in different prisons. About the same time a dep utation 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 was so fully sensible of the strong ground it had taken, that of withhold ing taxes, that it contented itself with keeping up a sort of STEPS TO THE FRENCH REVOLUTION, 85 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 afterward 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 superstitious authority of antiquity. It was government dethroning gov ernment ; and the old one, by attempting to make a new one, made a chasm. The failure of this scheme renewed the subject, of conve ning 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 com mons; but their numbers, or their proportions, had not always been the same. They had been convened only on extraordi nary occasions, the last of which was in 1614; their numbers 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 privileges and exemptions, in which neither the wants of. the government, 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 ofthe 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 con tended for privileges independent of either. The subject was then taken up by the parliament, who recommended 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 hundred: six hundred were to be chosen by the commons (and this was less than their proportion ought to have been when their worth and consequence are considered on a national scale), three hundred by the clergy, and three hundred by the aris tocracy ; but with respect to the mode of assembling them selves, whether together or apart, or the manner in which they should vote, those matters were referred.* » Mr. Burke (and I must take the liberty of telling him that he is unacquaint ed with French affairs), speaking upon this subject says, ' The first thing that 86 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. The election that followed was not a contested election, but an animated one. The candidates were not men but prin ciples. Societies were formed in Paris, and committees of correspondence and communication established throughout the nation, for the purpose of enlightening the people, and explaining 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 situated themselves in three separate chambers, or rather the clergy and the aris tocracy withdrew each into a separate chamber. The major ity of the aristocracy claimed what they called 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 the high-beneficed 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 artificial privileges ; and they were not only resolute on this point, but somewhat disdainful. They began to consider aristocracy as a kind of fungus grow ing out of the corruption of society, that could not be admit ted even as a branch of it ; and from the disposition the aris tocracy had shown, by upholding lettres de cachet, and in sundry other instances, 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 mption made for that purpose by the Abbe Sieyes) 'the representatives of the nation ; and that the two orders could be considered but as deputies of corporations, and could only have a deliberative voice but when they assembled in a national 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 dis tinctly, and very nearly as it has happened, all that was to follow.' Mr. Burke cer tainly 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 wonld be a revolution ; but was not able to make him see it, neither would he believe it. How, then, he could distinctly see all the parts, when the whole was out of sight, is beyond my comprehension. And with respect to the 'departure from the ancient course,' beside the natural weakness of the remark, it shows that he is unacquainted with circumstances. The departure was necessary, from the experience had upon it, that the ancient 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 I'Intrigue du Cabinet (Intrigue of the Cab inet) , who wrote before any revolution was thought of in France, speaking of the states-general of 1614 says : ' They held the public in suspense five months ; and by the questions agitated therein, and the heat with which they were put, it appears that the great (les grandes) thought more to satisfy their, particular passions than to procure the good of the nation ; and the whole time passed away in altercations, ceremonies, and parade.' — ' I'Intrigue du Cabinet,' vol. i., p. 329. STEPS TO THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 87 character with the national representatives? This proceeding extinguished the style of etats generaux, or states-general, and erected it into the style it now bears, that of Vassemble na- tionale, or national assembly. This motion was not made in a precipitate manner : it was the result of cool deliberation, and concerted between the national 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 aristocracy 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 sort 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 reason 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 whole of the national representatives, put the malcontents in a very dimin utive 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 cham ber, chiefly of bishops and high-beneficed clergy ; and these men were determined to put everything to issue, as well by strength as by stratagem. They had no objection to a con stitution ; but it must be such a one as themselves should dictate, and suited to their own views and particular situations. On the other hand, the nation disowned knowing anything of them but as citizens, and was determined to shut out all such upstart pretensions. The more aristocracy appeared, the more it was despised ; there was a visible imbecility and want of intellect in the majority, a sort of je ne sais quoi, that 88 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. 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 character of aristocracy, or what are called no bles 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), more 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 effect 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. The king (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 chambers separately. This declaration ofthe king was made against the advice of M. Neckar, who now began to per ceive that he was growing out of fashion at court, and that another minister was in contemplation. As the form of sitting in separate chambers was yet appa rently kept up, though essentially destroyed, the national rep resentatives, immediately after this declaration of the king, resorted to their own 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 consult in like manner. The malcontents had by this time concerted their measures with the court, which count d'Ar tois undertook to conduct : and as they saw, from the discon tent which the declaration excited, and the opposition making against it, that they could not obtain a control over the in tended 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 with drew to a tennis-ground, in the neighborhood of Versailles, as the most convenient place they could find ; and, after renew ing 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 pro ducing a closer connexion in the members, it was opened STEPS IN THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 89 again the next day, and the public business recommenced in the usual place. We are now to have in view the forming of the new minis try, 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 new-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 declaration made by Count d'Artois must be at tributed, 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 a declaration made by Count d'Artois, that ' if they took not a part in the national assembly, the life of the king would be endangered ;' on which they quit ted their chambers and mixed with the assembly in one body. At the time this declaration was made, it was generally treated as a p,iece of absurdity in Count d'Artois, and 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 their events, this apparent union was only a cover to the machina tions that were secretly going on ; and the declaration accom modated 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 bythe 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 him self afterward 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. Neckar and the ministry were displaced, and a new one formed of the enemies of the revolution ; and Broglio, with between twenty-five and thirty thousand foreign troops, was arrived to support them. The mask was now thrown off, and matters were come to a crisis. T'ie event was, that in the space of three days the new ministry and their abettors found it prudent to fly the nation ; the bastile was taken, and Brog lio and his foreign troops dispersed, as is already related in a former part of this work." 12 90 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. We shall now introduce Mr. Paine's description of the taking of the bastile, and then proceed with his life, or his connexion with these events and their consequences. " The mind can hardly picture to itself a more tremendous scene than which the city of Paris exhibited at the time of taking 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 stand ing on itself: and the close political connexion it had with the revolution is lost in the brilliancy of the achievement. But we are to consider it as the strength of the parties, brought man to man, 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 Bunyan's Doubting Castle and giant Despair. The national assembly before and at the time of taking the bastile, was sitting at Versailles, twelve miles distant from Paris. About a week before the rising of the Parisians and their taking the bastile, it 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 assem bly, 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 off 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 particular 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 was judged time to put the plan into execution. The minis try 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 whom 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.' TAKING THE BASTILE. 91 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 country 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 which should 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 dependance, can avoid interesting itself in their success. The archbishop of Vienne 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 presidency 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 declaration of rights was brought forward by M. de la Fayette, and is the same which is before alluded to. It was hastily drawn up, and makes only apart of a more extensive declara tion of rights, agreed upon and adopted afterward by the national assembly. The particular reason for bringing it for ward at this moment (M. de la Fayette has since informed me) was, that if the national assembly should fall in the threatened destruction that then surrounded it, some trace of its princi ples 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 national 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 the ministry reached Paris in the after- 92 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. noon, all the play-houses and places of entertainment, shops and houses, were shut up. The change of ministry was con sidered as the prelude of hostilities, and the opinion was rightly founded. The foreign troops began to advance toward the city. The Prince de Lambesc, who commanded a body of German cav alry, 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 remarka ble for their respect to old age, and the insolence with which it appeared to be done, uniting with the generaFfermentation 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, supplies, 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 firing, 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 procure : guns, swords, blacksmith's hammers, car penters' axes, iron crows, pikes, halberds, pitchforks, spits, clubs, &c. The incredible numbers with which they assembled the next morning, and the still more incredible resolution they exhibit ed, embarrassed and astonished their enemies. Little did the new ministry expect such a salute. Accustomed to slavery themselves, they had no idea that liberty was capable of such inspiration, or that a body of unarmed citizens would dare to face the military force of thirty thousand men. Every mo ment of this day was employed in collecting arms, concerting plans, and arranging themselves in the best order which such an instantaneous movement could afford. Broglio continued lying round the city, but made no farther advances this day, and the succeeding night passed with as much tranquillity as such 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 :very 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 such an TAKING THE BASTILE. 93 army, could not fail to strike terror into the new ministry, who had scarcely yet had time to meet. By some intercept ed correspondence this morning, it was discovered that the mayor of Paris, M. de Flessels, 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 pos sessed 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 supplied, they marched to attack the bastile; avast mixed multitude 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 pro duce. What plans the ministry was forming, were as un known to the people within the city, as what the citizens were doing was unknown 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 hero ism, such only as the highest animation of liberty could in spire, and carried 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 doom ing 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." The taking of the bastile by a mob has astonished most persons acquainted with that fortress, and especially military men, who know the obstacle to such an undertaking, nor was it generally understood how the moat was passed, or the draw bridge let down. We learn, however, from Robert Dale Owen, who had the information from La Fayette, that the chain of the draw-bridge was struck by a well-aimed cannon-ball, or per haps by a chain-shot, and the chain or chains being thus 94 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. broken, the bridge fell, the mob rushed over, and effected the rest by gallantry. Sherwin thus speaks on this subject : — " The destruction of the bastile, and the universal diffusion of republican principles throughout the French empire, had rendered that country a singular object of terror to the English government. The mass of the nation saw with pleasure the dawn of French liberty, while the majority of their rulers be held it as a treasonable invasion of the divine rights of monar chy. They dreaded the spirit of inquiry which it was calcu? lated to diffuse, and they feared that the government of Eng land, matchless and enviable as it was represented, would gain no credit by passing through the ordeal of national discussion. The first important attack that was made upon the principles of the French revolution was by Mr- Burke at the opening of parliament, 1790. This was followed by an advertisement in several of the newspapers, stating that he intended shortly to publish his opinions on the subject in the form of a pamphlet. The friends of liberty in this country were astonished at the sudden change in the politics of Mr. Burke, as he had, for sev eral years previous, and particularly during the American war, been considered as a most eloquent and sincere advocate of public freedom. But it was shortly discovered that he had re ceived a pension of three thousand pounds a year, and this suf ficiently explained the grounds of his apostacy. At the period of his parliamentry attack on the French revolution, he corre sponded with Mr. Paine, and so totally unexpected was his conduct, that the latter had written to him from Paris but a few weeks before, to inform him how prosperously matters were going on. When the advertisement was published an nouncing Mr. Burke's 'Reflections,' Mr. Paine promised the friends of the French revolution that he would answer the work whenever it appeared. He left France in November, 1790, hav ing been an attentive observer, if not an active adviser, of the important proceedings which had taken place during the pre ceding twelve months. Mr. Burke'sbook appeared soon after his arrival. The popularity of the author as a literary charac ter, the exertions of the government and its agents in all parts of the country, the flowery and impassioned language in which the historical and declamatory parts of the book were clothed, and the repeated delays which had retarded its appearance, and, consequently, increased the anxiety of the public, all con spired to give the work an interest, which its profligacy of principle and perversity of sentiment were insufficient to over come. The mass of his readers were captivated by his elo quence, and but a few took the trouble to reflect on the distort ed facts, the real falsehoods, and the egregious absurdities, with which the book abounded. 95 Mr. Paine lost no time in preparing his answer to the work. * In less than three months he produced the first part of ' Rights of Man,' in which he had combated and confuted the greater portion of Mr. Burke's doctrines. The work was printed in February, 1791, for Mr. Johnson, of St. Paul's Church Yard, but on looking it over he discovered some passages which he conceived were liable to be prosecuted, and he declined the publication. This refusal, which was altogether unexpected, occasioned a month's delay. After some difficulty, a publish er was at length found in Mr. Jordan, at No. 166, Fleet street, and the work was brought out on the 13th of March, 1791. This publication had a two-fold object in view ; — firstly, that of rousing the attention of the people of England to the defects and abuses of their own system of government ; and secondly, that of refuting the falsehoods and exaggerations in Mr. Burke's 'Reflections.' Among other doctrines equally devoid of princi ple, Mr. Burke had'published a commentary on the proceedings of the parliament of 1688, in which he had argued that the peo ple of England were bound by the declaration of the said par liament, who had consented ' to submit themselves, their heirs and posterities for ever,' to the heirs and posterity of William and Mary. Mr. Paine argues, that whatever right the parlia ment might have to submit themselves, they had not, and could not, have any right to enter into any agreement or contract re specting the government oSposterity, for, says he, 'every age and generation must be as free to act for itself in all cases, as the age and generation which preceded it." A more self-evident position than this could not have.been advanced, and the re flections naturally arising from it were quite sufficient to over turn the absurd conclusions which Mr. Burke had drawn from his omnipotent parliament of 1688. Our author then proceeds to refute his misrepresentations relative to the French revolution, and the causes of it. He enters into an elaborate detail of the events immediately pre ceding the overthrow of the ancient despotism, and of the con sequences which it was calculated to produce. In speaking of the destruction of the bastile, and of Mr. Burke's silence on the subject, he thus beautifully expresses himself: " Not one glance of compassion, not one commiserating reflection, that I can find throughout his book, has he bestowed on those who 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 is to her. He is not affected by the reality of distress touching his heart, but by the showy re semblance of it striking his imagination. He pities the plu mage, but forgets the dying bird. Accustomed to kiss the aristocratic hand that hath purloined him from himself, he de generates into a composition of art, and the genuine soul of 96 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. nature forsakes him. His hero or his heroine must be a tra gedy victim expiring in show, and not the real prisoner of mis ery sliding into death in the silence of a dungeon.' Mr. Paine reasons very deeply on the subject of rights, and the origin of government, in opposition to the dogmatical assertions and high-sounding declamation of his antagonist, and concludes his argument with a comparison between the constitutions of England and France, as the latter then stood under the author ity of the national assembly. He ridicules the vanity of titles, and the policy of hereditary governors, and vindicates the con duct of the national assembly in abolishing the one, and neu tralizing the authority of the other. fit has been urged against the work before us, that the au thor had neglected to arrange his matter methodically^ But it should be recollected, that he was compelled to follow the track of his opponent, which, as Mr. Paine very truly observes, was a complete 'wilderness of rhapsodies.' It was therefore impossible to preserve that order which in any other \vork would be considered essentially requisite. It may, however, be safely asserted, that the author's meaning is always clear, that his facts are always correctly stated, and that his argu ments are incontrovertible. With respect to the merits ofthe work as a composition, its immense circulation and immedi ate effect in exciting an inquiry into the abuses of the English government, will answer for this part of the subject. Perhaps there never was a period in which the people of that country were less disposed to attend to the discussion of politics than at the time Mr. Paine's pamphlet made its appearance : they had been so often amused, and so often deceived, by men who pretended to advocate their rights, that they were disgusted with the subject, and the apostacy of Mr. Burke was a con firmation of their sentiments. But the principles contained in the ' Rights of Man,' opened an entirely new field of argument and inquiry, and the thinking part of the people began to view the right of political reform, not as a boon to be expected or desired from the government, but as a power which the nation alone had the authority to exercise. About the middle of May Mr. Paine again went to France. Soon after his arrival the king fled from Paris. On this occasion he observed to his friend Mr. Christie : ' You see the absurdity of monarchical governments. Here will be a whole nation disturbed by the folly of one man.' When the king returned to Paris, Mr. Paine was, from an accidental circumstance, in considerable danger of losing his life. An immense concourse of persons of all classes 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 hats were on. Mr. Paine, however, had lost his cockade, the emblem of liberty and equality. The ABBE SYEYES HORNE TOOKE. 97 multitude observing that he remained uncovered, supposed that he was one of their enemies, and a cry instantly arose, '¦Aristocrat! Aristocrat! a la lanterne ! a la lanterneV He was desired by those who stood near him to put on his hat, and it was sometime before the people could be satisfied by explanation. The Abbe Syeyes, who had been one of the principal au thors of the new constitution, being alarmed at the partial excesses which had been committed by the populace, and falsely attributing them to the propagation of republican prin ciples, avowed his intention of defending, the monarchical against the democratical system of government. Mr. Paine readily accepted the challenge, and offered, in the short space of fifty pages, to controvert all the arguments which the abbe could bring forward in defence of his proposition. The latter prudently declined the contest, and thus the matter ended. On the thirteenth 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 twen tieth of August following. Of the address and declaration which issued from this meeting, and which was at first at tributed to Mr. Home Tooke, Mr. Paine was the author. A second meeting was intended to have been held at the same place, for a similar purpose, but the proprietor of the tavern was so. much alarmed at the clamors of the government party, that he was under the necessity of informing Mr. Home Tooke and his friends that he could not receive them. Mr. Paine was now very much 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 on getting it sup pressed if possible. Having ascertained the name of the print er, they employed* him to endeavor to purchase the copy right of the second, together with the future copyright of the first part of the ' Rights of Man.' He began first 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 printer or publisher to suppress or alter a work of his, by making him master of the copy, or give him the * I am aware that the circumstance of Mr. Chapman's being employed by gov ernment, has been denied by the partisans of the administration. But from the evidence which he gave on the trial, there is every reason to conclude that he was commissioned by the ministry or their immediate agents. He there states, that he refused to go on with the printing of the work from the fear of its being pros ecuted. Is it probable that any man would be so extremely foolish as to oner a thousand guineas for the copyright of a book which he dare not sell, unless he had some prospect in doing it distinct from the profit that was to be derived from the publication ? The case is too clear to require farther commentarv. 13 98 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. right of selling it to any minister, or to any other person, or to treat as a mere matter of traffic that which he intended should operate as a principle." Finding that Mr. Paine was not to be bribed by pecuniary offers, the ministry next attempted to impede, since they could not suppress, the publication of the work, and in this they partially succeeded. Among other things, it contained several propositions relative to a reduction of the public taxes. It was intended to have appeared on the day of the meeting of par liament, but when the printer found it was not to be purchased, he suddenly stopped in the middle of the work, and informed Mr. Paine that he would not proceed with the remainder on any consideration. Another printer, therefore, became neces sary, and this occasioned a delay of a fortnight. From the circumstances, elsewhere stated, there is every reason to con clude that the proof-sheets were regularly sent to the cabi net, and that the small addition to the pay of the soldiers, as well as several proposals for reducing the taxes brought for ward by Mr. Pitt at the opening of parliament, were done for no other object than that of making it appear that Mr. Paine's plan was merely an improvement on that ofthe minister. But even in this paltry purpose the parties in power were defeat ed, by the exposure of the circumstances in the appendix to the work. The ' Rights of Man,' part the second, combining principle and practice, was published by Mr. Jordan, of Fleet street, on the sixteenth of February, 1792. Exclusive of a dedication to M. de la Fayette, a preface and an introduction, it is divided into five chapters : chapter 1, on Society and Civilization ; 2, on the Origin of the present old Governments; 3, on the old and new Systems of Government; 4, on Constitutions; 5, Ways and Means of reforming the Political Condition of Eu rope, interspersed with Miscellaneous Observations. The second part is, strictly speaking, a continuation of the first. The general design of the work appears to have been an investigation of the abuses of the English government ; an examination of the hereditary and representative systems ; to which are added, a variety of propositions for meliorating the condition ofthe nation. In going over this work, it is difficult to decide whether the ability or benevolence of the writer is the most deserving of our admiration. The most abstruse and difficult subjects in the science of politics are rendered intelli gible and interesting, and the abuses which had been accumu lating for ages, and which antiquity seemed to have rendered sacred and venerable, are examined with a degree of boldness, which is wholly without precedent or parallel. The generality of those who had previously written on the subject of govern ment, appear to have drawn their principles from existing systems, and all that they had attempted to effect, was the " RIGHTS OF MAN, PART II. 99 correction of a few exterior abuses, without daring to invade the assumed rights of the establishment itself. But our au thor's attack was quite of a different nature : he not only depre cated the practice, but he condemned the principle ; he not only declared his contempt for the monarch,. but his detesta tion ofthe monarchy. He had studied the science of politics in the school of human nature, and he spoke as he felt, with out reverencing, or even referring to the subtleties of the sophists who had gone before him. One of the great objects of the work was to do away with the delusive notion, that the members of the system ought to be expected to reform themselves. ' There does not,' says he, ' exist within such governments, sufficient stamina whereon to ingraft reformation.' ' 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.' He likewise reasons with much energy in the first as well as the second part of the work against the prevalent opinions, with respect to the mixed system of government. ' A nation is not a body, the figure of which is to be represented 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 representation with what is called monarchy, is eccentric government. Representation is of itself the delegated monarchy of a nation, and cannot de base itself by dividing it with another.' Indeed, it requires very little reflection to discover the impossibility of uniting democracy with monarchy or aristocracy, for any beneficial purpose. The union may exist in appearance, but it never can take place in fact. The dignified pride of republicanism dis owns the base connexion. It is impossible to form an exact estimate of the number of copies which were circulated of the first and second parts of the 'Rights of Man,' but at a very moderate calculation there was at least a hundred thousand of each. When Mr. Paine saw the great interest which it excited, he thought the best mode of promulgating its principles, Would be to give up the copyright in favor ofthe public, which he did about two months after the appearance of the second part. The probability of a revolution now became a subject of general discussion. The nation was divided into two numerous and powerful classes, the one consisting of the ignorant and the majority of the wealthy, arranged under the banners of civil and religious tyranny, and declaring their attachment to all that was super stitious in the church, and all that was despotic in the state — while the other, more numerous and less dependant, more enlightened though less opulent, being convinced that the government in its existing state, was the cause of the greater part of the misery with which the country was afflicted, were 100 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. determined to let slip no opportunity df shaking off the load of oppression. That the different branches of government were in a state of the completest trepidation, isa fact that ad mits of no question, and that many of the most intelligent men of all parties expected a revolution, is equally indisputa ble. It is recorded of a certain ancient philosopher, who lived under a capricious tyrant, that he used every morning, when he awoke,' to feel whether his head was on his shoulders; and the state of the English people at length became so unsettled, and the stability of the government so problematical, that the king and his ministry might almost consider themselves in as precarious a situation. On the first appearance of the ' Rights of Man,' 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 government ; 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 undeserving ofthe attention of the public. But they soon found the inefficacy 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 address ed the following letter to his publisher : — 1 February 16, 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, ap pear and answer for the work personally. Your humble servant, Thomas Paine. Mr. Jordan, No. 166 Fleet Street.' The first intimation which Mr. Paine received of the inten tions of the ministry, was on the 14th of May, 1792. He was then at Bromley in Kent, upon which he came immediately to town ; on his arrival, he found that Mr. Jordan had that even ing been served with a summons to appear at the court of King's Bench on the Monday following, but for what purpose PROSECUTION OF MR. PAINE. 101 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 expense of the de fence 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 the 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 him 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 Sir Archibald Mac- donald, the then attorney-general, will serve to confirm this statement : — ' Sir : Though I have some reason for believing that you were not the original promoter or encourager of the prosecu tion commenced 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 Mac- donald, 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 ta king 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 mea sure you might choose to adopt with respect to him. It is on the purity of his heart, and the universal utility of the princi ples and plans which his writings contain, that he rests the issue ; and he will not dishonor it by any kind of subterfuge. The apartments which he occupied at the time of writing the work last winter, he has continued to occupy to the present hour, and the solicitors of the prosecution knew 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 direct ed my attorney to put in an appearance ; and as I shall meet the prosecution 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 toward in- 102 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. fluencing the future issue with respect to the author. This ex pression 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 pub lisher's) behalf, and leave the negotiators 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 just ify itself before the public, whose cause it really is (for it is the right of public discussion and investigation that is ques tioned), 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 prosecuting 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 publisher is, because it can amount to nothing. " First, be cause 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 cal culated to root out all the abuses of government, and to less en the taxes of the nation upward of six millions annually. Secondly, because though the gentlemen of London maybe 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 qual ified 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 support ing their rights. PROSECUTION OF MR. PAINE. 103 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 government 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; arid, 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 re turn the compliment to him by showing, in a future publica tion, that he has been a masked pensioner at fifteen hundred pounds per annum for about ten years. Thus it is that the public money is wasted, and the dread of public investigation is produced. I am, sir, Your obedient humble servant, Thomas Paine. Sir A. Macdonald, Attorney-General.' The business being thus settled with respect to Jordan, and he consenting to give up the documents in his possession relative to the 'Rights of Man,' in order to facilitate their means of proceeding against the author, they commenced their prosecution against the latter on the twenty-first of May. On the same day, they issued their celebrated proclamation against what they were pleased to term ' seditious writings.' The au thors of this document preserved a careful silence as to the specific object of their alarms, but it was easy to discover that their intention was to cry down the ' Rights of Man,' and to influence the verdict of the jury which was to try the author. Another expedient was likewise resorted to — that of procuring addresses in favor of the existing system of government from the corporations, rotten boroughs, and other places under the influence of the ministry. Nothing could be more despicable than these addresses,* and nothing more glaring than the con- * As a contrast to these contemptible and fulsome specimens of servility, I subjoin the following : — ' At a meeting ofthe Manchester Constitutional Society, held this day, it was Unanimously resolved — That the thanks of this society are due to Mr. Thomas Paine, for the publica- 104 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. duct of their promoters, who were chiefly persons directly or indirectly interested in the support of public abuses: but des picable as they were, they served in some measure the pur- tion of his " Second Part ofthe Rights of Man, combining Principle asid Practice,'7 a work ofthe highest importance to every nation under heaven ; but particularly to this, as containing excelleut and practical plans for an immediate and consid erable reduction of the public expenditure; for the prevention of wars ; for the extension of our manufactures and commerce ; for the education of the young ; for the comfortable support ofthe aged; for the better maintenance of the poor of every description; and, finally, for lessening, greatly, and -without delay, the enormous load of taxes under which this country at present labors. That this society congratulate their countrymen at large, on the influence which Mr. Paine's' publications appear to have had, in procuring the repeal ot some oppressive taxes in the present session of parliament ; and they hope that this adoption of a small part of Mr. Paine's ideas, will be followed by the most strenuous exertions to accomplish a complete reform in the present inadequate state of the representation of the people, and that the other great plans of public benefit, which Mr. Paine has so powerfully recommended, will be speedily carried into effect. Thomas Walker, President. March 13, 1792.' Samuel Jackson, Secretary. Sheffield Society for Constitutional Information. 1 This society, composed chiefly ofthe manufacturers of Sheffield, began about four months ago, and is already increased to nearly two thousand members, and is daily increasing, exclusive of the adjacent towns and villages who are forming themselves into similar societies. Considering, as we do, that the want of knowledge and information in the gen eral mass of the people, has exposed them to numberless impositions and abuses, the exertions of this society are directed to the acquirement of useful knowledge, and to spread the same as far as our endeavors and abilities can extend. We declare that we have derived more true knowledge from the two works of Mr. Thomas Paine, entitled u Rights of Man," parts the first and second, than from any author on the subject. The practice as well as the principle of govern ment is laid down, in those works, in a manner so clear and irresistibly con vincing, that this society do hereby resolve to give their thanks to Mr. Paine for his two said publications, entitled " Rights of Man," parts first and second. Resolved unanimously, That the thanks of this. society be given to Mr. Paine, for the affectionate cbncern he has shown in his second work in behalf of the poor, the infant, and the aged ; who, notwithstanding the opulence which blesses other parts ofthe community, are, by the grievous weight of taxes, rendered the miserable victims of poverty and wretchedness. Resolved unanimously, That the thanks of this society be given to John Home Tooke, Esq., for his meritorious support of our lawful privileges, as a firm advo cate of our natural and just rights, the establishment of an equal representation ofthe people. Resolved unanimously, That this society disdaining to be considered either of a ministerial or opposition party (names of which we are tired, having been so often deceived by both) do ardently recommend it to all their fellow-citizens, into whose hands these resolutions may come, to confer seriously and calmly with each other on the subject alluded to; and to manifest to the world, that the spirit of true liberty is a spirit of order ; and that to obtain justice it is con sistent that we be just tcT'ourselves. Resolved unanimously, That these resolutions be printed, and that a copy thereof be transmitted to the Society for Constitutional Information, London, requesting their approbation for twelve of our friends to be entered into their society for the purpose of establishing a connexion and a regular communication with that and all other similar societies in the kingdom. By order ofthe committee. March 14, 1792.' David Martin, Chairman. The above were selected from a number of others of a similar description. They show that Mr. Paine had the approbation of the most independent portion ofthe people, though his writings were not sanctioned by the aristocracy, the landed interest, or any other class interested in the protection of a corrupt system of government. MR. paine's "address to the addressers." 105 pose of the moment in decrying the character of a work, and < defaming the reputation of a man whose arguments were un answerable, and whose character was irreproachable. A great number of. pamphlets, intended as answers to the 'Rights of Man,' had issued from the press, but such was the irresistible nature of truth, that these puny and feeble efforts on the part of wounded corruption no sooner appeared than they vanished, and a few short weeks consigned them and their authors to eternal oblivion. They therefore determined that an appeal to popular clamor would serve their cause better than an appeal to reason, and the verdict of a packed jury would answer their purpose better than any attempt to argue the merits of the work on the principles of truth and justice. While the ministers of despotism were thus revelling in the anticipation of their plots and schemes for crushing the rising spirit ofthe country, the author of the 'Rights of Man' was resolved not to shrink from the discussion which his writings had occasioned. He was urged by several gentlemen of the law to prefer a bill of indictment against the publisher of the proclamation as a publication tending to influence the decision of the jury ; but conscious of the rectitude of his intentions, and of the strength of his arguments, he preferred meeting the-proclamation on its own ground, and defending the princi ples of the work which had been falsely stigmatized as wicked and seditious. Accordingly, about the month of August, 1792, he prepared another publication in defence of the 'Rights of Man' and of his own conduct, entitled, 'An Address to the Addresers on the Jate Proclamation.' This is one of the severest pieces of satire that ever issued from the press. The parliamentary orators on both sides, the house, anxious to raise a popular outcry against the' Rights of Man,' had com menced the session, by describing to the country and to each other blessings which were enjoyed under the British consti tution. The praises which were bestowed upon the 'radical beauties' of this constitution, and the motives which produced them, are ridiculed by Mr. Paine in a fine strain of irony. Having informed the addressers of these symptoms of alarm, on the part of their mild and merciful governors, he proceeds to a defence of the principles of the ' Rights of Man.' He re peats his former arguments, and offers additional reasons for the positions he had advanced. He concludes this part of the pamphlet with these words, in reference to the impending prosecution: 'If to expose the fraud and imposition of every species of hereditary government ; to lessen the oppression of taxes ; to propose plans for the education of helpless in fancy, and the comfortable support of the aged and distressed; to endeavor to conciliate nations to each other ; to extirpate the horrid practice of war ; to promote universal peace, civili zation, and commerce ; and to break the chains of political 14 106 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. Vsuperstition, and raise degraded man to his proper rank ; if these things be libellous, let me live the life of a libeller, and let the name of libeller be engraven on my tomb.' But though Mr. Paine was determined to take every opportu nity of defending his principles, he maintained that the case was deserving of a much more extensive consideration than could be bestowed upon it by any jury, whether special or common. He contends in the work before us, that the question was not so much whether he had or had not written what crown law yers and packed juries are in the habit of condemning as wicked and seditious libels, but whether individuals had the right to investigate systems and principles of government, and to publish the conclusions resulting from such investiga tion. It was this right which the ministry were invading under the pretence of prosecuting the author of the 'Rights of Man,' and while in appearance they were merely attempting to suppress what they called the seditious writings of Mr. Paine, they were, in fact, aiming a deadly blow at the rights of every man in the country. It was at first Mr. Paine's intention to have defended him self personally, but an event happened about two months pre vious to the trial which disconcerted his purpose. While he was preparing his ' Letter to the Addressers,' his friends and admirers in France were preparing a wreath of civic honors, as a reward for his intrepid exertions in defence of universal liberty. About the middle of September, 1792, a French depu tation announced to him inLondon, that the department of Calais had elected him as their representative in the national conven tion. This was a matter of greater interest to him than the attor ney-general's prosecution, and he proceeded to Dover with the intention of embarking immediately to Calais. The treatment which he met with at Dover was disgraceful in the extreme,* his trunks were all opened, and the contents examined. Some of his papers were seized, and it is probable that the whole would have shared the same fate, but for the cool and steady conduct of Mr. Paine and his attendants. When the custom house officers had indulged themselves in this manner as long as they thought proper, Mr. Paine and his friends were suffered to embark, and they arrived at Calais, after a pleasant passage of three hours. He 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 embarkation. The reception which he met with at Calais, furnished a striking contrast to the conduct of the government agents at Dover. On the name of Paine being announced, the soldiers at the gates were drawn up, and the officers on guard having embraced him, presented him with * For a full account of this scandalous transaction, see his Second Letter to Mr. Secretary Dundas, dated Calais. September 15, 1702. MR. PAINE'S HONORS IN FRANCE. 107 the national cockade. A very pretty woman, who was stand ing by, desired she might have the honor of putting it in his hat, expressing her hopes that he would continue his exertions in favor of liberty, equality, and France. A salute was then fired from the battery, to announce the arrival of their new representative. This ceremony being over, he walked_to Deissein's, in the Rue de I'Egalite (formerly Rue de Roi), the men, women, and children, crowding around him, and calling out ' 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 and conductor, 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 different persons in authority, and by the president of the Constitutional society, who desired he would attend their meeting of that night : he cheerfully complied 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 diffi culty they made way for Mr. Paine to the side of the president. Over the chair he sat in, was placed the bust of Mirabeau, and the colors of France, England, and America united. A speaker acquainted him from the tribune with his election, amid the plaudits ofthe people. For'some minutes after this ceremony, nothing was heard but ' Vive la Nation ! Vive Thomas Paine,' in voices male and female. On the following day an extra meeting was appointed to be held in the church in honor of their new deputy to the conven tion, the Minimes being found quite suffocating from the vast concourse of people which had assembled on the previous oc casion. A play was performed at the theatre on the evening after his arrival, and a box was specifically reserved ' for the author of the " Rights of Man," the object of the English proclamation.' Mr Paine was likewise elected as deputy -for Abbeville, Beauvais, and Versailles, as well as for the department of Calais, but the latter having been the first 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 he met with similar honors to those which he had received at Calais. As soon as he had arrived at Paris, he addressed a letter td the people of France thanking his fellow-citizens for adopting 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. 108 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. While he was peaceably and patriotically performing the duties of his station, the ministry of England were using every effort to counteract the (to them) dangerous principles which he bad disseminated. For this purpose they filed a number of informations against the different individuals who had re tailed the work. The trial of Mr. Paine came on at Guildhall, on the 18th of December, before Lord Kenyon,* and a special jury. The former being pensioned, and the latter being pack ed, a verdict of guilty followed as a matter of course. The proceedings on this trial are not of much interest, except as they tend to develop the inquisitorial character of an English court of law in matters of libel. The attorney-general had se-f lected a few passages from the second part of the ' Rights of Man,' which he thought were most likely to answer his pur pose, and these, in the verbose vulgarity of the law, he stigma tized as false, wicked, scandalous, and seditious. He was pru dent enough to refrain from any attempt to prove the truth of his charge, well knowing that, with such7 a judge and such a jury, abuse would be received as a substitute for argument, and the coarsest and most improbable calumnies would be admitted as evidence of the writer's evil intention. The greater part of his speech to the jury was taken up with a comment on a letter relative to the prosecution, which Mr. Paine had written to him from Paris. In this letter he says : ' Had not my duty as a member of the national convention of France called me from England, I should have stayed to have contested the injus- * This man was one ofthe most cruel, vindictive, and merciless characters that ever disgraced the bench of a British court of justice. . As an illustration of his conduct, the following anecdote will be sufficient : in the year 1799, a gentleman with whom I have the pleasure of being acquainted, ofthe name of Waddington, speculated very largely in hops. It is the custom, and has been so time out of ' mind, to purchase many ofthe hops ofthe growers before they are gathered, and / to give so much a pound for them when gathered and put into .bags. Mr. Wad-' dington (who Was an opulent banker, ana whose character, as a commercial man, stood veiy high), about the time he was making large purchases of this sort, took the lead in calling a meeting in the city of London to petition against the war. ^ The myrmidons of Pitt were set to work to discover how he might be annoyed. They. trumped up a "charge of forestalling against him for having purchased hops before they were brought to market. Nothing could be more unfounded than this charge, seeing that it had been the practice of thousandsnf persons for perhaps more than a century. In the reigns of Edward VI., Mary, Elizabeth, Charles II., and Anne, divers acts of parliament had been passed against forestalling, regrating, engros sing, &c. But in time it was discovered that these acts were not only foolish, but mischievous, and in the 12th year of the reign of the present king,- the whole of them were repealed, npon the ground that they tended to produce dearth and misery. But the common law had not been repealed, or at least Kenyon said so. Upon this was Mr. Waddington indicted, and ajury, packed for the purpose, found him guilty of dealings as honest and common as any in the country: in eonse- ri , quence of this verdict, the wicked and malignant judge sentenced this worthy and respectable man to be imprisoned as well as fined, which, considering that ft dis solved all his contracts, produced a forfeiture of his deposiles, and caused a run upon his house and his bank, was, in fact, sentencing nim to ruin, and almost to actual beggary. The result of these proceedings brought forth a number of informations against fbrestallers — fortunately for Kenyon he died soon after, and his successor declared that not to be an offence, which Kenyon had declared to be an ofTence for the sole purpose of ruining a man whom Pitt and his colleagues had marked out fur destruction. PERSONS PERSECUTED. 109 tice of that prosecution ; not upon my own account, for I cared not about the prosecution, but to have defended the principles I had advanced in the work.' He likewise delivers his opinion very freely, upon the capacity of the reigning king, and the profligacy of his sons, and very pointedly asks the attorney-general, whether he conceives such persons are necessary to the government of a nation 1 Mr. Erskine con tended against the legal right of the prosecutor to avail him self of the contents of this letter, but the judge overruled the objection. Indeed the whole of the proceedings seem to have been marked out beforehand, and the trial seems to have been nothing but a convenient farce. Mr. Erskine addressed the jury for some hours, but his speech was rather an evasion of the charge, than a justification of the principles he professed to defend. It was, as Mr. Paine observed, on seeing the report of the trial, ' a good speech for himself, but a very poor defence of the " Rights of Man." ' The jury found a verdict -for the crown, without the trouble of deliberation. With respect to the different retailers of the work against whom informations were filed, their fate now became pretty evident. The ministry were not satisfied with punishing the venders of ' Rights of Man ;' they likewise instituted prosecu tions against the publishers of the ' Letter to the Addressers' and obtained several convictions. The following statement contains, I believe, a correct account of the number of prose cutions against these works : — A LIST OF THE PERSONS WHO HAVE BEEN PROSECUTED FOR THE PUBLICATION OF PAINE's WORKS". December 18, 1792. Thomas Paine, ' Rights of Man, Part II.' convicted ; went to France previous to the trial. February 26, 1793. Thomas Spence, 'Rights of Man, Part II.' flaw in the indictment ; acquitted. William Holland. ' Address to the Addressers,' one year's imprisonment, and £100 fine. H. D. Symonds. 'Rights of Man,' two years imprisonment, and £20 fine. 'Letter to the Addressers,' one year's im prisonment, £100, and two sureties of £250 each, and self for £500, for three years, and imprisonment till the fine be paid and sureties given. April 15. Thompson, printer, Birmingham, ' Rights of Man' and ' Address to the Addressers ;' acquitted. April 17. Richard Phillips, printer, Leicester, 'Rights of Man ;' eighteen months' imprisonment. May 8. J. Ridgway, bookseller, London ; ' Rights of Man,' one year's imprisonment, and £100. 'Letter to the Addres sers,' one year's imprisonment, and £100 fine ; in each case, 110 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. two sureties of £250 each,and self for £500 for three yeaTS, and imprisonment till the fine be paid, and sureties given. June 3. D. I. Eaton, 'Rights^ of Man:' verdict which amounted to an acquittal. July 11. Do. 'Address to the Ad dressers :' do. Richard Peart and William Belcher, ' Address to the Addres sers,' and ' Rights of Man ;' imprisonment three months. August 10. Messrs. Robinsons, 'Rights of Man ;' fine. Daniel Holt, bookseller, Newark, ' Address to the Addres sers ;' four years' imprisonment, and £50 fine. These prosecutions, though they were far from tranquillizing or satisfying the public mind, were certainly followed by one of their intended effects, that of suppressing the circulation of the work. Such was the acrimony with which the admirers ot Mr. Paine were persecuted in all parts of the country, that it was regarded as highly dangerous for any person to be found with the book in his possession ; for though the law took no cognizance of such an act, the individual became a marked ob ject of destruction, and so vigilant were the agents of tyranny, that their malice was sure to be gratified by one means or other. On the trials of Hardy, Tooke, and Thelwall, the cir cumstance of their having patronised the ' Rights of Man' was made a very material ground for the charge of high treason, and though the accusation failed, the obloquy, which by this and other means was cast upon the work, tended very greatly to prevent its farther dissemination." We have hitherto only noticed the public character of Mr. Paine in England. Before we follow him into France, we shall extract from Clio Rickman's life of Paine, an article on his civil, social, or domestic habits, observing that Mr. Rickman was his friend and companion, a man of amiable dis position, extensively known, and esteemed wherever known. We knew the family, and are at this time intimate with those who were familiar with and companions of Mr. Rickman. This gentleman remarks : — ¦ , " Mr. Paine's life in London was a quiet round of philo sophical leisure and enjoyment. It was occupied in writing, in a small epistolary correspondence, in walking about with me to visit different friends, occasionally lounging at coffee houses and public places, or being visited by a select few. Lord Edward Fitzgerald, the French and American ambas sadors, Mr. Sharp, the engraver, Romney, the painter, Mrs. Wolstonecroft, Joel Barlow, Mr. Hull, Mr. Christie, Dr. Priestly, Dr. Towers, Colonel Oswald, the walking Stewart, MR. PAINE AND THE FRENCH CONVENTION. Ill / Captain, Sampson Perry, Mr. Tuffin, Mr. William Choppin, Captain de Stark, Mr. Home Tooke, &c, &c.,were among the number of his friends and acquaintance ; and, of course, as he was my inmate, the most of my associates were frequently his. At this time he read but little, took his nap after dinner, and played with my family at some game in the evening, as chess, dominoes, or draughts, but never at cards ; in recitations, sing ing, music, &c. ; or passed it in conversation : the part he took in the latter was always enlightened, full of information, enter tainment, and anecdote. Occasionally we visited enlightened friends, indulged in domestic jaunts and recreations from home, frequently lounging at the White Bear, Piccadilly, with his old friend, the walking Stewart, and other clever travellers from France, and different parts of Europe and America. When by ourselves we sat very late, and often broke in on the morning hours, indulging the reciprocal interchange of affectionate and confidential intercourse. ' Warm from the heart and faithful to its fires,' was that intercourse, and gave to us the ' feast of reason and the flow of soul.' " " To return to Mr. Paine and the French convention. On the 25th of July, 1792, the Duke of Brunswick issued his sangui nary, manifesto : in this he stated that the allies were resolved to inflict the most dreadful punishments on the national as sembly, and on the city of Paris, for their treatment of the royal family ; he even went so far as to threaten to give up the place to military execution. The publication of this doc ument threw the people of Paris into a state of complete con fusion. They became frantic and furious, and the manifesto, instead of lulling them into repose, drove them to deeds of desperation. A party was soon formed in the convention for putting the king to death, and the agitated condition of the people facilitated the design. Mr. Paine labored hard to pre vent this object from being carried into execution, but though > his efforts produced a few converts to his doctrine, the major ity of his colleagues were too enraged with the duplicity of the king, and the detestable conduct of the foreign monarchs, with whom he was leagued, to listen to anything short of the most unlimited vengeance. The conduct of Louis was too reprehensible to be passed over in silence ; Mr. Paine therefore voted that he should be tried, but when the question whether he should be condemned 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 was determined to let slip no opportunity of protesting against this measure, and when the question, whether the sentence should be carried into execution, was discussed, he combated the proposition with great energy. As he was not in the habit of pronouncing 112 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. French, one of the secretaries read his discourse translated from tlie original English. It is evident that his reasoning was thought very persuasive, since those who had heard the discourses of Buzot, Condorcet, and Brissot, to the same purpose without interruption, broke out in murmurs while Paine's opinion was reading ; and Marat, at length, losing all patience, exclaimed that Paine was a quaker, and insinuated that his mind being contracted by the narrow principles of his religion, was incapable of the liberality that was requisite for condemning men to death. This shrewd argument not being thought convincing, 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 ofthe 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 comparing it with the original, however, it was found correct. Though these exertions were frustrated, they were attended with one effect, that of rendering Mr. Paine an object of hatred among the most violent 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 these 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 it was equally a matter of indifference to him whether the exercise of this high attribute of the human heart was required on a trivial or important, a public or private occasion. Of his strict atten tion to his public duty in this respect, even at the hazard of his own safety, we have a convincing proof in his opposition to the execution of the king, and of his humane and charitable disposition in a private point of view, the following circum stances are sufficient to warrant the most unqualified con clusion. Mr. Paine happened to be 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 him self as one of the party. The military gentleman was a strenuous supporter of the constitution in church and state, and a decided enemy of the French revolution. After the cloth was drawn, the conversation chiefly turned on the state of affairs in England, and the means which had been adopted MR. PAINE AND MAJOR MUNROE. 113 by the government to check the increase of political knowl edge. Mr. Paine delivered his opinion very freely, and much to the satisfaction of every one present, with the exception of Captain Grimstone, who returned his arguments by calling him a traitor lo his country, with a variety of terms equally opprobious. Mr. Paine treated his abuse with much good humor, which rendered the captain so furious, that he walked up to the part of the room where Mr. Paine was sitting, and struck him a violent blow, which nearly knocked him off his seat. The cowardice of this behavior from a stout young man toward a person of Mr. Paine's age (he being then upward of sixty) is not the least disgraceful part of the transaction. There was, however, no time for reflections of this sort ; an alarm was instantly given, that the captain had struck a citizen deputy of the convention, which was considered an insult to the nation at large ; the offender was hurried into custody, and it was with the greatest difficulty that Mr. Paine prevented him from being executed on the spot. It ought to be observed, that an act of the convention had awarded 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 immediately ap plied to Barrere, at that time president of the committee of public safety, for a passport for his imprudent adversary, who after much hesitation complied with his request. It likewise occasioned Mr. Paine considerable personal inconvenience to procure his liberation; but even this was not sufficient; the captain was without friends, and penniless, and Mr. Paine generously supplied him with money to defray his travelling expenses. The gentleman who favored me with the account of the foregoing circumstance, has likewise informed me of another anecdote equally honorable to Mr. Paine's feelings. A Major Munroe, who at the beginning ofthe revolution was employed by Mr. Pitt to send an aecount to the ministry of what was going on in Paris, remained there till after the declaration of war, when he, with many others, was sent to prison. He had previously occupied the same hotel with Mr. Paine, and though the latter was aware of his errand, he found him an intelligent companion. When the major was imprisoned, he applied to Mr. Paine, who after considerable trouble obtained his release. The major was recently living, and it is but fair to say, that he has often observed to his friends, he should ever feel indebted to the kindness of Mr. Paine, for the interest he employed in procuring his discharge. I have already noticed the feeling of hostility with which our author's exertions in the cause of humanity were received bv some of the members of the convention. Those who had y 15 114 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. deserted the principles of liberty, and who, from the most treacherous and tyrannical motives, were anxious to plunge the nation into a state of anarchy, were naturally the enemies of the great defender of the ' Rights of Man,' and they were de termined to gratify their vengeance, whenever a possibility of so doing should offer itself. Before entering into a descrip tion of the steps that were taken for this purpose I will give the reader an account ofthe mode in which he passed his time at the period we are speaking of. ' In Paris, in 1793,' he observes, ' I had lodgings in the Rue Fauxbourg St. Denis, No. 63. They were the most agreeable for situation of any I ever had in Paris, except that they were too remote from the convention, of which I was then a mem ber. But this was recompensed by their being also remote from the alarms and confusion into which the interior of Paris was then often thrown. The news of those things used to arrive to us, as if we were in a state of quietude in the country. The house, which was enclosed by a wall and gateway from the street, was a good deal like an old mansion farm-house, and the court-yard was like a farm-yard stocked with fowls, ducks, turkeys, and geese ; which, for amusement, we used to feed out of the windows of the parlor on the ground-floor. There were some huts for rabbits, and a stye with two pigs. Beyond, was a garden of more than an acre of ground, well laid out, and stocked with excellent fruit-trees. The orange, apricot, and the green-gage plum, were the best I ever tasted ; and it is the only place where I saw the wild cucumber, which they told me is poisonous. The place had formerly been occupied by some curious person.' In allusion to the dreadful proceedings which were making suchhavoc among the best patriots of France, he continues: — ¦ '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 their 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 no printer dared to print ; and whatever I might have written for my private amusement, as anecdotes of the times, would have been continually exposed to be ex amined, and tortured into any meaning that the rage of party might fix upon it ; and as to softer subjects, my heart was in " AGE OF REASON," PART I. 115 distress at the fate of my friends, and my harp was strung upon the weeping willows.' At this period the national convention was divided into factions, each intent on their own aggrandizement, and each possessing a powerful host of partisans among the people. Terror, hatred, suspicion, revenge, and every other dark and deadly passion, had supplanted the just, liberal, and humane principles which marked the commencement of the revolution, and the wide empire of France became one vast slaughter house, where the supporters of freedom and the advocates, of despotism were alternately sacrificed at the shrine of factious violence. The, exertions of the friends of liberty sooner increased than lessened the effects ofthe storm, and to defend the interests of truth and the rights of the people, was to in vite destruction. The voice of humanity was mute, for the ear of humanity was closed. It is painful to recur to these heart-rending scenes, but justice requires it, and more par ticularly so, as Mr. Paine was very near falling a victim to the violence of the contending factions. The gentle, conciliating, and open method in which he had conducted himself, had prevented the possibility of impeaching his political conduct, and to this we must attribute the circum stance of his remaining 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 compli mented with the title of ' citizen of France,' the decree did not extend to him. A motion was afterward made by Bourdon de l'Oise, for expelling 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 application was. made to the two committees of public safety and general surety, of which Robespierre was the dictator, and they immediately put him in arrestation ; under the formerjdecree for imprisoning persons born in Eng**-j; Llaild'^O^Tii6 way t0 tne Luxembourg he contrived to caU*^" upon his intimate friend and associate, Joel Barfow, 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 proceedings in France, during the year 1793, induced him to delay it no longer. ' The circumstance,' says he, ' that has now taken place in France, of the total abolition of the whole national order of priesthood, and of everything apper taining 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 * See Mr Barlow's letter, page 135. 116 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. the general wreck of superstition, of false systems of govern ment, and false theology, we lose sight of morality, of humanity, and of the theology that is true.' At the time this performance was written, Mr. Paine was in almost 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 sentiments of a dying man. This is at least a conclusive proof that the work was not the result of a wish to deceive, that, whether'true or false, it was the effu sion of a disinterested mind ; and, in ordinary cases, the fact of a man writing a book under such circumstances, would be admitted as a logical evidence ofthe rectitude of the doctrines it contained. I do not, however, intend to enter into any discussion relative to our author's religious opinions, until we arrive at the second part of the work. It is, therefore, only necessary at present, to observe, that Mr. Paine had measured his time with such a degree of precision, that he had not finish ed the book more than six hours before he was arrested and conveyed to the Luxembourg.* Mr. Paine had remained in prison about three weeks, when it was ascertained to the satisfaction of every one in Paris, except the tyrants who had sent him there, that he had com mitted no offence ; and in consequence of this, the Americans residing in that city, went in a body to the convention to de mand the liberation of their fellow-citizen and friend. The following is a copy of the address presented by 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 illus trious 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 cir cumstances rendered necessary the decree to put under arrest all the English residing in France. Citizens ! representatives ! We come to demand of you Thomas Paine, in the name of the friends of liberty, and in the name of the Americans, your brothers and allies ; was there anything more wanted to obtain your demand we would tell you. Do not give to the leagued despots the pleasure of seeing Paine in irons. We shall 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 * Had such a singularly favorable coincidence as this happened in the trans actions of a Christian theological writer, it would undoubtedly have been ascribed to the interposition nf Divine Providence, but in the present instance (whatever rational men may think on the subject) the faithful will perhaps find it conve nient to attribute the circumstance to the influence of a power of quite an opposite character. MR. PAINE IN PRISON. 117 finding among them any dangerous propositions, they only found the love of liberty which characterized him all his life time, that eloquence of nature and philosophy which made him the friend of mankind, and those principles of public morality which merited the hatred 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, re ceived for answer, that ' Mr. Paine was born in England,' and it was likewise hinted to them that their attempt to reclaim him as a citizen of the United States, could not be listened to, in consequence of its not being authorized by the American government. A few days after this, all communication between persons imprisoned, and any person without the prison, was cut off, by an order of the police. In this forlorn and solitary situation Mr. Paine continued for six months, and the only hope that remained for him was, that a new minister would arrive from America to supersede Morris, and that he would be authorized to inquire into the causes of his imprisonment ; ' but even this hope,' Mr. Paine observes, ' in the state in which matters were daily arriving, was too remote to have any consolatory effect ; and I contented myself with the thought that I might be re membered when it would be too late.' During this long imprisonment he amused himself as well as such a gloomy situation would allow, by writing various pieces of fancy, both in poetry and prose, some of which have since been published. He likewise wrote a considerable pro portion of the second part of the 'Age of Reason ' during his incarceration. When he had been in prison about eight months, he was seized with a violent fever, which nearly de prived him of life, and from the effects of which he never afterward perfectly recovered. This fever, which rendered him completely insensible for more than a month, was evi dently the means of preserving his life. Had he remained in health he would probably, according to the routine of the times, have been dragged before the tribunal, and sent to the guillotine, without the trouble of proving either his guilt or his innocence. But the fever fortunately averted the im pending danger, and the first thing he heard of after his recov ery was the fall of Robespierre. But the fate of this sanguinary man did not restore him to liberty. The desolator was overthrown, but his faction still remained, and, though con siderably humbled, their hostility toward Mr. Paine was un abated. The latter seeing that several of his fellow-prisoners tvere released, addressed a memorial to Mr. Monroe (who it 118 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. appears had received no instructions from the American government respecting Mr. Paine), on the subject of his con finement, who behaved toward him with great kindness and attention. The following is a copy of Mr. Monroe's letter to Mr. Paine on this occasion : — , Pahis, 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 confine ment : and should have answered them at the times they were respectively written, had I not concluded, you would have cal culated 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 interesting 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 like wise heard that I had no instructions respecting you by the government. I doubt not the persons who gave you the infor mation 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 deprives you of being an American one. Even this, however, may be doubted, I mean the acquisition of citizenship in France, and I confess you have said much to show that it has not been made. I really suspect that this was all that the gentleman who wrote to you, and those Americans he heard speak upon the subject, meant. It becomes my duty, however, to declare to you, that I con sider 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 attention ; and so far as it can be given, consistently with those obligations which are mutual bqtween every government and even transient passenger, you shall receive it. The congress have never decided upon the subject of citizen ship, in a manner to regard the present case. By being with us through the revolution, you are of our country as abso lutely 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 dis quietude. It is necessary for me to tell you, how much all your coun- MONROE S LETTER TO PAINE. 119 trymen — I speak ofthe great mass ofthe 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 pub lic liberty. To the welfare of Thomas Paine,' the Americans are not, nor can they be, indifferent. Of the sense which the president has always entertained of your merits, and of his friendly disposition toward 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 you must, until that event shall be accomplished, bear your situation with patience and forti tude ; you will likewise have the justice to recollect, that I am placed here upon a difficult theatre, many important ob jects to attend to, and with few to consult. It becomes me in pursuit of those, to regulate my conduct with respect to each, as to the manner and the time, as will, in my judgment, be best calculated to accomplish the whole. With great esteem and respect consider me personally your friend. James Monroe.' Mr. Paine was released from prison on the 4th of November, 1794, havjngjbeen Jrt-confinemeat-for-eleven -morrths. ~ ~~ After his liberation he was kindly invited to the house of Mr. Monroe, with whom he remained for about eighteen months. I intend to be as brief in my extracts as the subject will admit ; but the following, which is taken from one of his letters, written after his return to America, is so descrip tive of his situation while in prison, and of another narrow escape which he had in addition to the one already noticed, that I consider it necessary for the information of the reader. ' I was one of the nine members that composed the first committee 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 Ro bespierre, and signed with him the warrant of my arrestation. After the fall of Robespierre, he was seized and imprisoned 120 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. in his turn, and sentenced to transportation. He has since apologized to me for having signed the warrant, by saying, 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 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 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 night, and the de stroying angel passed by it. A few days after this Robespierre fell, and the American ambassador arrived and reclaimed me, and invited me tb his house. RELEASE FROM PRISON. 121 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 convention 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 ofthe people of America.' Soon after Mr. Paine's release from prison the convention passed a unanimous vote to invite him to return to the seat he had formerly occupied. The times were still dangerous, as well from without as within, for the coalition of foreign despots was unbroken, and the constitution not settled. Mr. Paine however, thoughtproper to accept the invitation, befog resolved to show that he was not to be alarmed either by prospects or retrospects of danger, and that his principles were neither to be perverted by disgust nor weakened by misfortune. He was liberated, as before stated, in November, 1794 ; his. bodily health was at this time very much impaired by long confinement, and in September following he was taken danger ously ill. He states that he had felt the approach of his dis order for some time, which occasioned him to hasten to a con clusion of the second part of the ' Afire of Reason.' This work was published at Paris, early in 1795, and was very shortly afterward reprinted in England, and the United States. At the time he wrote the first part of the work he was without a bible, nor could he procure one. The investigation which it con tained was therefore rather a general, than a detailed inquiry into the Jewish and Christian systems of belief. The first point which he attacks is the doctrine of revelation. He ad mits the possibility, though he denies the probability of the Supreme Being having ever held personal communication with man. But even allowing this tobe the case, he observes, that ' revelation is necessarily limited to the first communication. After this it is only on account of something which that "person says was revelation made to him ; and though he may find hi m- self obliged to believe it, it cannot be incumbent op me to believe it in the same manner, for it was not revelation made to me, and I have only his word for it that it was made to him.'* In this manner he proceeds to controvert the principal argu ments in favor of Christianity. He asserts that it is a system founded entirely upon hearsay evidence, and that we are not obliged to believe it. He next endeavors to show the similari ty of the heathen mythology, and that of the Christians, from * Age of Reason, Part I. 16 122 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. which he infers that the latter is a copy of the former. Among the novel positions which he advanced, was an argument to prove that the word prophet had changed its original meaning, that in former times it was synonymous with that of poet or musician ; to prove this he cites the part of the Bible, where we are told the prophets of old performed the functions of their vocation by means of pipes, tabrets, horns, harps, and other musical instruments. Having declared his disbelief of what is called revealed religion, and his reasons for such dis belief, he next gives his opinion as to what he conceives to be the only true word of God — the only true revelation ; and as his ideas on this subject are of no ordinary stamp, I insert them in his own words, as the best mode of doing justice to the author : — ¦ ' It is only in the creation that all our ideas and conceptions of a vjord of God can unite. The creation speaketh a univer sal language, independently of human speech or human lan guage, miltiplied and various as they be. It is an ever-existing original, which every man can read. It cannot be forged ; it cannot be counterfeited ; it cannot be lost ; it cannot be alter ed ; it cannot be suppressed. It does not depend upon the will of man whether it shall be published or not : it publishes itself from one end of the earth to the other. It preaches to all nations and to all worlds ; and this word of God reveals to man all that is necessary for man to know of God. Do we want to contemplate his power 1 We see it in the immen sity of the creation. Do we want to contemplate his wisdom 1 We see it in the unchangeable order by which the incompre hensible Whole is governed. Do we want to contemplate his munificence 1 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 unthank ful. In fine, do we want to know what God isl Search not the book called the Scripture, which any human hand might make, but the scripture called the Creation.' It is not hazarding too much to say that the above breathes as pure a spirit of morality and philosophy, as anything that was ever written on the subject, in either ancient or modern times. It is superior to the bible description of the Deity, for it ascribes to him none of those weaknesses and passions which are so frequently attributed to him by the authors of that book. It is not at all wonderful that the ministers of a corrupt system of religion should calumniate the character of a work, which inculcates the practice of morality as the only religious duty that men are bound to perform, which teaches the most sub lime and reverential ideas of the Creator of the universe, and which represents the intercessions of ignorant and bigoted priests, as unnecessary either to the present or future happi ness of mankind— it is not at all wonderful that such men watson's apology — persecution. 123 should look upon such a work with horror, and load its author with every epithet of calumny and reproach. They are in re ligion, what courtiers are under a limited monarchy. Both parties are, in nine cases out of ,ten, aware of the farce, and they tremble at the approach of reason and investigation. From a great portion of the work before us, it is evident that Mr. Paine possessed an extensive knowledge of astronomy and mathematics, and the mode in which he applies these branch es of science, to prove the ignorance of the bible writers, and the falsehood of their statements, is worth the reader's atten tion. For this, however, I must refer him to the work itself. The extract which I have already given will enable any person to form an idea of the general character of the book, its prin ciples and tendency ; I therefore proceed to offer a few obser vations on the second part. This work is divided into an examination, first, of the Old, and, secondly, of the New Testament. In the former our author examines the different books of the Bible in rotation, and proves, very clearly, as far as the evidence of circumstan ces can go, that they were not written by the persons to whom they are ascribed, and, therefore, that they are anonymous and without authority. He likewise reasons very forcibly against the various acts of horrid cruelty, and gross immorality, which are attributed to the Almighty by Moses, and the other reputed authors of the Bible. In this examination the ancient Jews are stripped ofthe disguise in which commentators generally clothe them, and exposed in their true character — that of the most ignorant and ferocious race of beings which eVei disgra ced the character of human nature. Their ignorance is in ferred from the circumstance of there not being in the whole Bible more than one book in which any branch of useful or scientific knowledge is mentioned (the book of Job) and this it appears is a book of the Gentiles and not of the Jews. The ferocity of their character is established by the almost innu merable and unprovoked murders with which the Scriptures are filled, and which are blasphemously ascribed to the God of mercy and eternal beneficence. These are the principal grounds on which our author argues against the divinity of the Bible. In the examination of the New Testament, he exposes the contradictions of the different writers, he cites authorities to prove that the gospels were not written till a long time after the evangelists are reported to have lived ; and that they were not formed into a book for more than three hundred years after the death of Christ. They were then collected together by the church, and it was decided by vote which were and which were not the word of God. The work likewise contains some fine ideas on the doctrine of immortality : these form a striking contrast to the gloomy and unnatural doctrines of the resurrection. 124 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. On a superficial view of the subject it appears wonderful that a system of belief which is liable to so many objections, not only on the score of probability, but on that of the common principles of morality, should have obtained so general an in fluence among mankind. But when we look at the means which have been used to propagate its principles, we may cease to be surprised at the general credence it has acquired. Its professors preached peace and humility, until, by the increase of their numbers, they were enabled to assume ainore formi dable tone, but so slow was their progress, and with such gen eral contempt were their, doctrines viewed, that even this ac cession of strength did not take place until three or four cen turies after the death of their founder. As the number of their converts increased, their temporal power became more exten sive, and all attempts to investigate the truth of their preten sions were put down as impious heresies. Thus, in the first instance, their faith was protected by its obscurity and the pro fessed humility of its disciples ; in latter times it has been pro moted by means of the sword, and the assiduity of the priest hood ; while all inquiry into the probability or improbability of its precepts, has been suppressed by the powerful reasoning of the fagot and the inquisition. It is not to be denied that the New Testament contains some good moral maxims, but these are no proofs of its divinity, for they existed thousands of years before the appearance of Christ, and they will exist when all the desolating wars and shocking persecutions which have been occasioned by the Christian system of faith, shall be sunk in the Lethean stream of oblivion. They are inherent in human nature, and they consequently do not depend upon the belief of any particular system of opinions. It may suit the convenience of the pious teachers of our es tablished religion, to tell us that the practice of virtue, the foundation of our happiness here and of our hopes hereafter, are dependant on the practice of their absurd ceremonies, and the belief of their improbable doctrines ; but it is impossible for the reflecting mind to discover in these dogmas anything more than the motives of an interested priesthood, or the effu sions, of a distempered imagination. The principles of moral virtue are essentially distinct from the belief of any existing system of faith, they result from the relations of a being with his fellow-beings ; justice toward ourselves is wisdom ; justice toward others is virtue. In society all is relative, there is no happiness independent ; we are compelled to sacrifice a part of what we might enjoy, not to be deprived of the whole, and to secure a portion against all assaults. Even here the balance is in favor of reason. However laborious may be the life of the honest man, however encompassed with dangers, however beset with difficulties it may be, that of the vicious character must be more so. He can " AGE OF REASON," PART II. 125 seldom be tranquil who stands in opposition to the interests of his fellow-men ; it is impossible for him to conceal from him self that he is surrounded by enemies, or by those who are ready to become so, and this situation is always painful, how ever splendid may be appearances. Let us add to these con siderations, the sublime rectitude of instinct, which corruption may lead astray, but which no false philosophy can ever anni hilate, which impels us to admire and love wisdom and gener osity of conduct, as we do grandeur and beauty in nature and the arts ; and we shall have the source of human virtue, inde pendent of every religious system of the intricacies of meta physics, and of the impostures of priests. The publication of the ' Age of Reason ' called forth a great variety of replies, but the only one which is now remembered is the Bishop of Llandaff's 'Apology for the Bible.' It is much to be doubted whether this work, which is written in open defiance of the plainest rules of reason and logic, would have survived the fate of its companions in the same cause, if it had been written by any other person. His character in the world of letters, and in several of the departments in science, coupled with his conduct in parliament, which induced many to regard him as an independent promoter ofthe gospel, gave the work an importance which its contents by no means de served, and the friends of the church lost no time in publishing it throughout the country. Their zeal in this respect, per haps,, in some measure, answered the purpose they had in view, but it certainly conferred no honor on the bishop's literary reputation. Whether the advocates of the Christian faith were or were not conscious of the imperfections of their system, it is evi dent they were afraid of an inquiry into its merits, and a pros ecution was commenced against Mr. Williams, the publisher of the 'Age of Reason.' By way of giving a color to this proceeding, they retained Mr. Erskine on the part of the crown, who strained every effort to procure a verdict. Mr. Kyd made an ingenious and argumentative 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 ridicules the absurd practice of discussing theological subjects before such men as special juries are generally composed of, and cites fresh evidence in support of his former arguments respecting the Bible. -S Mr. Paine now attended his duty as a member of the con vention, in which capacity he delivered his opinions whenever occasion required. 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 for ward on the 23d of June following, by Boissy d'Anglas. This 126 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. was the constitution of elders and youngsters, a council of five hundred, a council of ancients, and an executive directory of five. Mr. Paine wrote a speech in opposition to several of the articles of this constitution, which was translated and read to the convention by Citizen Lanthera, on the seventh of July. One of the subjeots against which Mr. Paine contended, was the unjust distinction that was attempted to be made between direct and indirect taxes. Whatever weight these objections ought to have carried, they were not listened to by the con vention, and the constitution of Boissy d'Anglas was adopted. By this decree the convention was formally destroyed, and as Mr. Paine was not afterward re-elected, it likewise termi nated his public functions in France. The reign of terror having in some degree subsided, our author's political pen returned to its former employment. About the time that he brought out the second part of the ' Age of Reason,' he published several pamphlets on subjects less likely to inflame the passions of the bigoted and the igno rant, than investigations into the nature of theology. The principal of these are his ' Dissertation on first Principles of Government,' 'Agrarian Justice opposed to Agrarian Law,' and the 'Decline andFall ofthe English System of Finance.' The first of these is a continuation 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 ar rived at the age of twenty-one 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 years, and to all others, when they shall arrive at that age, to enable them to live in old age without wretchedness, and to go decently out of the world.' This little essay contains a good deal of original thinking, and close reasoning, though in the present state of society it is not very probable that its recommendations will be ever adopted. The pamphlet on finance is a proof of Mr. Paine's extensive knowledge on this complicated subject. The events of every day serve to confirm the truth of his opinions respect ing the English system, and the agitations which have prevailed throughout the country rendered the fulfilment of his predic tions exceedingly probable. In 1796, he published at Paris a ' Letter to General Wash ington.' The principal subject of this letter is 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 America, and the safety of her commerce, from a disposition to crouch to the British minister. The cold neglect of Mr. Washington toward Mr. Paine during his im prisonment, forms likewise a prominent subject of the letter, MR. PAINE'S ATTACHMENT TO AMERICA WASHINGTON. 127 and but for this circumstance it is probable it would never have appeared. Notwithstanding the high opinion which Mr. Washington professed to entertain of his services in be half 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 a single effort to reclaim him. This was not the treatment which the author of ' Common Sense ' deserved at the hands of Mr. Washington, either as a private individual, or as president of America. Exclusive of Mr. Paine's being a citizen ofthe United States, and of his being consequently entitled to the protection ofthe government, he had rendered America 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 difficulty. However deserving of our admiration some parts of General Washington's conduct may be, his behavior in this instance certainly reflects no honor upon his character. From a variety of circumstances it appears that Mr. Paine regarded the United States as the land of his home. His spirit of universal philanthropy, his republican principles, and his resolution in attacking fraud and superstition, whether in politics or religion, rendered him in a great measure an in habitant of the world, more than of any particular country ; but notwithstanding these peculiarities of disposition, he had domestic feelings and local attachments which neither time nor distance could obliterate. During his residence in Europe, he always declared his intention of returning to America : the following extract from a letter of his to a female literary correspondent at New York, will show the affectionate regard which he constantly cherished for the safety and free dom of 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 Eng land. They aTe right. I had rather see my horse, Button, eating the grass of Bordentown, or Morrissania, than see all the pomp and show of Europe. A thousand years hence, for I must indulge a few thoughts, perhaps in less, America may be what England now is. The 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 thousands bled to obtain, may just furnish materials for a village tale, or extort a sigh from rustic sensibility ; while the fashionable of that day, enveloped in dissipation, shall de ride the principle and deny the fact. When we contemplate the fall of empires, and the extinction 128 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. of the nations of the ancient world, we see but little more to excite our regret than the mouldering ruins of pompous palaces, magnificent monuments, lofty pyramids, and walls and towers of the most costly workmanship : but when the empire of America shall fall, the subject for contemplative sorrow will be infinitely greater than crumbling brass or mar ble can inspire. It will not then be said, Here stood a temple of vast antiquity, here rose a Babel of invisible height, or there a palace of sumptuous 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! Read this, then ask if I forgot America.' The name ofthe lady to whom the above was addressed, was Nicholson. She was afterward married to Colonel Few. Whether or not it was owing to Mr. Paine's opinions on reli gion I do not know, but on his return to America he was totally forsaken by her and her husband. When, however, Mr. Paine's dissolution was at hand, they sought his company, and Mrs. Few expressed a wish to renew their former friendship. But Mr. Paine, weak and debilitated as he was, refused to shake hands with her, and indignantly observed, ' You have neglect ed me, and I beg you will leave the room.' In 1797, a society was formed of a number of persons in Paris, under the title of 'Theophilanthropists.' Of this society Paine was one of the principal promoters. Their objects were the propagation of morality and extinction of religious prejudices, and their faith the belief of one God. At one of their meetings Mr. Paine delivered a public discourse, in which he stated his reasons for rejecting the doctrines of atheism, which at that time prevailed in many parts of France. This year he likewise published a ' Letter to the People of France, on the Events of the eighteenth Fructidor.' Of the merits or demerits of this pamphlet, I am unable to say any thing as I have not been able to procure a copy. I believe it was never reprinted. About the middle ofthe same year he also addressed a let ter to Camille Jordan, one of the council of five hundred, re specting his report on the priests, public worship, and bells. I have only seen a mutilated copy of this production, but as far as I can judge from that, it deserves to be classed with the best works of the author. ' It is want of feeling,' says he, 'to talk of priests and bells, 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 pro duces is sufficient for every want, if rightly applied ; but priests and bells, like articles of luxury, ought to be the least articles of consideration.' The publication of his deistical opinions certainly lost our A MEMBER OF THE THEOPHILANTROPISTS. 129 author a great number of friends, and, it is possible, that this might be one of the causes of General Washington's indiffer ence. The clear, open, and undisguised method in which he had contested established opinions, called forth the united indignation of the whole order of priesthood in England and America, and there was scarcely a house of devotion, in the old world or the new, which did not resound with their pious execrations. They witnessed with amazement and terror the immense circulation of the work, and they trembled at the possibility that men might assume sufficient courage to think for themselves. Thousands of persons who had never seen the book, and who knew nothing of its contents, except through the perverted medium of their spiritual teachers, rent the air with exclamations against the blasphemies of Thomas Paine, and to conclude these truly charitable proceedings, the Eng lish government called upon the public to condemn the work which they had suppressed by a legal prosecution. Such are the means adopted bythe professors of Christianity to suffocate inquiry, and to dispel the doubts of skepticism. To the credit of mankind it ought to be observed, that the powers of the hierarchy are upon the decline. There was a time when Mr. Paine would have been roasted alive for daring to dispute the dogmas of the church, but the progress of science, and its handmaid, civilization, has softened the ferocity of human nature, and a, somewhat milder punishment is now re served for those who may question the divinity of the Chris tian religion. For this, however, we are not indebted either to the morality ofthe religion, or the piety of its professors — we owe it to the progress which mankind have made in freeing themselves from the profane and barbarous notions which such a system of belief is calculated to diffuse wherever it is tolerated." Mr. Paine, it appears, lived long enough in France to be come unpopular, at least for a time. His opposition to the dominant party of Robespiere, and to the death of the king of France, were the political offences which rendered him so. While his "Age of Reason," written JruLgfence. of deisnij and for the express purpose of arresting the progress of atheism, as he himself informs us, still farther contributed to his un popularity, for atheism and violence, although not necessarily connected, at one time prevailed ; and during the reign of terror, and even after the death of Robespiere, men who were not of his party, nor intolerant democrats, assumed to be so, to avoid suspicion and death by the guillotine: these therefore dared not associate with Mr. Paine, who steadfastly adhered to his 17 130 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. republican principles without cringing to an intolerant party. When Mr. Paine became unpopular he lived chiefly in retire ment ; and, though a member of the national assembly, he did not make himself prominent, as he could not sanction their proceedings, and opposition was useless, especially, as he did not speak the language fluently, and never in public. While Mr. Paine was unpopular in France, and when he had but few friends, he resided chiefly with Mr. Bonneville and family. Mr. Bonneville at that time edited a paper, was in good circum- stances,andwhenMr .Paine's remittances from this country were not regular, he cheerfully lent him money. This kindness, on the part of Bonneville, shown at a time when Mr. Paine most needed it, was not lost on him, for he was as grateful as gen erous, m'oral qualities always in the same ratio ; and Mr. Paine had afterward an opportunity of returning this kindness ; for, on the elevation of Bonaparte to supreme power, the press of Mr. Bonneville was stopped, and himself injured in his i property. At this time Mr. Paine resolved to quit France, ! where liberty appeared hopelessly absorbed by the splendid military talents and achievements of Napoleon. Mr. Paine ' then offered an asylum to Mr. Bonneville and family in the United States, and this offer Mr. Bonneville accepted, and soon after Mr. Paine returned to this country. In 1802 Mr. Bonneville forwarded his wife and three sons, intending to follow them as soon as he could settle his affairs. Accident or change of purpose delayed his arrival till after Mr. Paine's death, and hence he became charged with the maintenance of Mrs. Bonneville and family (except the elder son, who returned to his father) till his death. To this subject we shall again refer in the fourth part of this life, especially as it afforded Cheetham the subject of a libel, of which he was convicted, after the death of Mr. Paine. The social and moral character of Mr. Paine while in France appears to have been the same as in England, and as in this country during the revolution; yet Sherwin, m his life, seems to admit that at one period, when unpopular, he became intemperate. Joel Barlow, who certainly knew him well, partially admits the charge while he vindicates the general character of Mr. Paine, in a letter to Cheetham, which we shall MR. PAINE'S HABITS IN FRANCE. 131 extract. In spite of these admissions, and others, with various allusions from persons who knew something of him, we are sceptical of the fact, because we were nearly betrayed into an error on this subject, in relation to his course of life after his return to this country. The statement that Mr. Paine was intemperate was so commonly asserted, that we never con templated looking for proof to the contrary, till this fact was forced upon us by the uniform testimony of his most intimate acquaintances ; but as this subject relates to the fourth part of his history, we shall reserve it for its proper place. We introduced it merely to justify our scepticism in relation to his habits in France, when partially in seclusion. This doubt in us does not arise from any desire to screen Mr. Paine from any supposed blemish ; for, if this were the fact, we feel more disposed to justify than to screen him. We know that he was not only temperate in after life, but even abstemious ; and he would therefore stand as a monument of reform in old age, on a subject where reform is most uncommon at that period. Mr. Paine lived in an age when hospitality and excess were so identified that the one could not be shown without the other. In our boyish days bumpers were drank in good society, on public occasions ; the toasts must go round, and the glasses drained in honor to the toast, and occasional excess, even when no public cause induced it, was only a proof of good fellowship. Nor would the host be satisfied that the guests had done him honor, if noisy mirth, excited by wine, did not finish the repast ; while the guest did not scruple, on his next-day visit, to complain of present headache, and of double sight, and a staggering gait on the previous evening, as proofs of his good entertainment, and ofthe liberality of his^friend and host. At that time Pitt was a fovr-bottle man, Fox, when in exertion, would drink wine from a great bowl, and the heir- apparent to the British crown might even go to greater ex cesses, surrounded by the brilliants of the nation ; among whom Sheridan and Fox were not the least distinguished. If Mr. Paine, then, the companion of some of these men, had done as they did, he would only have been on a level with them, and to the custom of the times must the folly be as cribed. Since that age the custom has changed, bumpers are 132 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE, not insisted on in good society, except in song. A drained glass is not a sine que non. The host indeed spreads the table abundantly, but excess is not the fashion ; each helps himself, and the flow of reason and wit, and innocent games, supply the place of boisterous mirth. The change is rational, but the present age must not condemn the past, for all follow custom. We feel then no disposition to screen Mr. Paine, but so many falsehoods have been told on this subject, that we honestly doubt various assertions unsupported by facts. Mr. Clio Rickman followed Mr. Paine to France, became again his companion, and parted with him on the shore when he finally left that country for this. We shall give that gentleman's account of Mr. Paine's habits in France, as far as he knew. "Mr. Paine was acknowledged deputy for Calais, the 21st of September, 1792. In France, during the early part of the rev olution, his time was almost wholly occupied as a deputy of the convention and as a member of the committee of consti tution. His company was now coveted and sought after uni versally among every description of people, and by many who for some reasons never chose to avow it. With the Earl of Lauderdale, and Dr. Moore, whose company he was fond of, he dined every Friday, till Lord Gower's departure made it necessary for them to quit France, which was early in 1793. About this period he removed from White's hotel to one near the Rue de Richelieu, where he was so plagued and interrupt ed by numerous visiters, and sometimes by adventurers, that in order to have some time to himself he appropriated two mornings in a week for his levee days.* To this indeed he was extremely averse, from the fuss and formality attending it, but he was nevertheless obliged to adopt it. Annoyed and disconcerted with a life so contrary to his wishes and habits, and so inimical to his views, he retired to the Faux- bourg St. Dennis, where he occupied part of the hotel that Madame de Pompadour once resided in. •Among these adventurers was a person calling himself Major Lisle : Mr. Paine was at breakfast when he was announced ; he stated himself to be lately arrived from Ireland ; he was dressed in the Irish uniform, and wore a green cockade ; he appeared to be a well-informed man, and was gentlemanly in his manners, but ex tremely voluble. He ran over the number of sieges and battles he had been at, and ended with professing a zealous desire to serve the republic, wishing Mr. Paine to give him a letter of recommendation to the minister at war. Mr.'Paine was extremely observing, shrewd, and cautious ; he treated him with hospitality and politeness, and inquired after some of the leading characters in Ireland, with whom he found the major not at all acquainted ; he then recommended hi'm to take the credentials of his services to the military committee, but declined every importunity to interferehimself. The adventurer turned out afterward to be the notorious Major Semple. MR. PAINE'S HABITS IN FRANCE. 133 , Here was a good garden well laid out, and here too our mu tual friend Mr. Choppin Occupied apartments ; at this residence, which for a town one was very quiet, he lived a life of retire ment and philosophical ease, while it was believed he was gone into the country for his health, which by this time indeed was much impaired by intense application to business, and by the anxious solicitude he felt for the welfare of public affairs. Here with a chosen few he unbent himself; among whom were Brissot, the Marquis de Chatelet le Roi of the gallerie de honore, and an old friend of Dr. Franklin, Bangal, and some times General Miranda. His English associates were Christie and family, Mary Wolstonecraft, Mr. and Mrs. Stone, &c. Among his American friends were Capt. Imlay, Joel Barlow, &c, &c. To these parties the French inmates were generally invited. It was about this time a gentleman at Paris thus writes of him to his friend : 'An English lady of our acquaintance, not less remarkable for her talents than for her elegance of man ners, entreated me to contrive that she might have an interview with Mr. Paine. In consequence of this I invited him to din ner on a day when we were to be favored with her company. For above four hours he kept every one in astonishment and admiration of his memory, his keen observation of men and manners, his numberless anecdotes of the American Indians, of the American war, of Franklin, Washington, and even of his majesty, of whom he told several curious facts of humor and benevolence. His remarks on genius and taste can never be forgotten by those present.' " The above extract is a part of Mr. Yorke's letter, published we believe in this country, but as that letter contains some falsehoods we have no confidence in it ; for Mr. Yorke says Paine could repeat by heart anything he had written : and Sher win repeats the statement. This is a mistake, as we are in formed by Mr. John Fellows and others, his intimates. Mr. Paine would necessarily express himself nearly in the same style, on the same subject, because it was the most clear, the fewest words, and combined the greatest strength. Men who say the best thing first, can but repeat them on a future occa sion. Mr. Clio Rickman goes on to remark : — " 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 garde 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 134 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. firmness with which he ever defended his own opinions when controverted, do not reflect higher honor upon him than that unbounded liberality toward the opinions of others which con stituted such a prominent feature in his character, and which never suffered mere difference of sentiment, whether political or religicus, to interrupt the harmonious intercourse of friendship, 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 anecdotes : with these he would sport on the broad and fine gravel walk at the upper end of the garden, and then retire to his boudoir, where he was up to his knees in letters and papers of 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 and 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 politi cal 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 often lamented we had no good history of America, and that the letters written by Columbus, the early navigators, and others, to the Span:?'.! court, were inaccessible, and that many valuable documents, collected by Philip II, and deposited with the national archives at Simania, had not yet been promulga ted. He used to speak highly of the sentimental parts of Ray- nal's History." As farther illustration of the character of Mr. Paine while in France we shall now introduce the letter of Joel Barlow to Cheetham, when Cheetham was getting up the life of Paine, just after the death of the latter. He wrote for in- information to various persons, suggesting what answers they should give by leading questions. These answers, if they suited his purpose, he published, if not, he suppressed them, JOEL BARLOW'S LETTER TO CHEETHAM. 135 or he took the liberty of publishing detached parts of what he had been told, or related direct falsehoods, as in the case ot Mr. Jarvis, who has explicitly denied to us the words which Cheetham puts into his mouth in relation to Mr. Paine. Cheetham, among others, wrote to Mr. Barlow, and to him put such sort of questions as we have noticed. Mr. Barlow, in reply, states as follows :; — TO JAME.S CHEETHAM. " Sir : I have received your letter calling for information re lative 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 char acter, 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 complete in all his character as one of the most benevolent and disinterested of mankind, endowed with the clearest percep tion, 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 among the brightest and most undeviating luminaries of the age in which he has lived — yet, with a mind assailable by flat tery, and receiving 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 oppression, yet 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 looking down with serene compassion, as it ought, on the rude scoffs of their imitators, a new genera tion 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, till it sinks at last so far below its native elevation 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 dif ferent motives, that he would haste to hide himself in the 136 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. 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 mathe matical acquirements, and his mechanical genius. His inven tion 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 erro neous, at least in one point. Paine did not lodge at the house where he was arrested, but had been dining there with some Americans, of whom Mr. M may have been one. I never heard before, that Paine was intoxicated that night. In deed 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 they came to me. Their object was to get me to go and assist them to examine Paine's papers. 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 ofthe English court papers), for his adherence to what he thought the cause 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, conse quently, to companions less worthy of his better days. It is said he was always a peevish inmate — 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. MR. PAINE'S NAME SUPPRESSED BY HISTORIANS. 137 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 theni during the revolu tion 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 news paper '; it is, that you will not publish my letter, nor permit a copy of it to be taken. I am, sir, &c, Joel Barlow. Kalorama, August 11, 1809." Mr. Barlow was not always so candid. He has published a poem on the revolution, in which he does not mention Mr. Paine, whose " Common Sense " produced the declaration of independence, and who, throughout the contest, did more toward producing unanimity and funds (the two essentials in war) than any other man. We have now in our house a compact history of the revolution, by S. F. Wilson, published in Baltimore, in which the same injustice is done to Mr. Paine, for he scarcely occupies on% line in the history, although "political writings," without giving a name, are referred to, as being very efficacious. Paul Allen in a larger work does him the same injustice. In a biography of distinguished American characters, by Colonel Knapp, published by Conner, a short notice was inserted of Mr. Paine, being a republication of an English biography. This Mr. Conner was obliged to alter, after stereotyping, at the instigation of Collins and Hanna, and other booksellers, not because the facts and sentiments were incorrect, but because the praise of Mr. Paine would spoil the sale of the book. These facts we learn from Mr. John Fellows and Mr. Conner. In the case of Joel Barlow, there was no personal objection, but he knew that prejudices existed against Mr. Paine, and he succumbed to public feeling ; and such we believe the case with other writers. * Mr. Barlow might have added, in regard to Mr. Paine's religion, that as it was the religion of most ofthe men of science ofthe present age, and probably of three fourths of those ofthe last, there could be no just reason for making it an exception in his character. IS 138 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. While Mr. Paine was in France, and partly detached from politics, inconsequence of imprisonment and, the violence of party, he was not idle. Mr. Yorke remarks, in his letter pub lished in Sherwin's Life : — " In showing me one day the beautiful models of two bridges he had devised, he observed that Dr. Franklin once told him, that ' books are written to please, houses built for great men, churches for priests, but no bridge for the people.' These models exhibit an extraordinary degree, not only of skill, but of taste, in mechanics ; and are wrought with extreme delicacy, entirely by his own hands. The largest is nearly four feet in length ; the iron works, the chains, and every other article belonging to it, were forged and manufactured by him self. It is intended as the model of a bridge, which is to be constructed across the Delaware, extending 480 feet with only one arch. The other is to be erected over a lesser river, whose name I forget, and is likewise a single aTch, and of his own workmanship, excepting the chains, which insteadof iron, are cut out of pasteboard, by the fair hand of his correspond ent, the ' Little Corner of the World,' whose indefatigable per severance is extraordinary. He was offered three thousand pounds for these models, and refused if. The iron bars, which I before mentioned that I noticed in a corner of his room, were also forged by himself, as the model of a crane, of a new de scription. He put them together, and exhibited the power of the lever, to a most surprising degree." " Mr. Yorke in the above extract states the correspondence between Lady Smith and Mr. Paine to have been extremely beautiful and interesting ; as a proof of this, the following specimen is subjoined : — 'FROM "THE CASTLE IN AIR," TO THE ' LITTLE CORNER OF THE WORLD." In the region of clouds where the whirlwinds arise, My castle of fancy was built; The turrets reflected the blue 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 I lay: And when I looked out in the morning, behold ! My castle was carried away. MR. PAINE'S POETRY SOCIALITY. ' 139 It ppssed over rivers, and valleys, and groves — The world, it was all in my view — I thought of my friends, of their fates, of their loves, And often, full often, of you. At length it came over a beautiful scene, That nature in silence had made : The place was but small — but 't was 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 there. Like a lark from the sky it came fluttering down, And placed me exactly in view — When who should I meet, in this charming retreat, This 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.' The above was written during his residence in Paris. Mr. Paine had very early in life corresponded with the lady to whom it was addressed, his letters, like the foregoing, being dated from the 'Castle in the Air,' and hers from the ' Little Corner of the World.' For reasons which he knew not, their intercourse was suddenly suspended, and for some time he believed his friend in obscurity and distress. Many years afterward, he met her unexpectedly at Paris, in the most afflu ent circumstances, and married to Sir Robert Smith. In Mr. Yorke's Letters there is another piece, on for getful- ness. This is replete with the most beautiful imagery, but Mr. Yorke, from some motive which I cannot discover, has can celled so great a part of it, that much of the interest is lost which it would otherwise possess. As the letter of Mr. Jefferson which Mr. Yorke alludes to, shows the high opinion which that gentleman entertained of our author's services, and his wish to accommodate him by every possible kindness, I here subjoin a copy of it : — ' 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 asmuch 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.' 140 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. Soon after Mr. Paine's release from the Luxembourg, it ap pears he made an. effort to return to America, but he found the obstacles morfe" numerous than he expected. The miscon duct of Mr. Monrofi's predecessor had rendered his reception in France a very unpleasant one, and as soon as he had effect ed a good understanding with the government of that country, he wished to transmit some despatches to America, by a per son with whom he could likewise confide a verbal communica tion, and he fixed upon Mr. Paine. For this purpose he ap plied to the committee of public safety for a passport, but as Mr. Paine had been voted again into the convention, it was only the convention who could grant the passport, and as an application to them would have made his departure publicly known, he was obliged to sustain the disappointment, and Mr. Monroe to lose the opportunity. When Mr. Monroe left France, our author was to have accom panied him, but owing to some unforeseen circumstances he was unable to complete his arrangements for that purpose. It was fortunate he could not, for the vessel in which the minister returned was boarded by a British frigate in her passage, and every part of her searched, down even to the hold, for Thomas Paine. He then went to Havre, thinking that he should be able to embark there without its being known, but he found that several British frigates were cruising in sight of the port, and he thereupon returned to Paris. Seeing himself cut off from every opportunity that was within his power to command, he wrote to Mr. Jefferson requesting that if the fate of the election should put him in the chair of the presidency, and he should have occasion to send a frigate to France, he would give him the opportunity of returning by it. This application produced an answer from Mr. Jefferson of which the letter before cited is a copy. He did not, however, go by this vessel, the notice being too short. He next agreed to embark with Commodore Barney, in a vessel he had engaged, but in this, as in some of the former cases, the protecting hand of Providence was very visible, he was accidently detained beyond the time, and the vessel sunk at sea. Such a multitude of difficulties and nar row escapes were perhaps never concentrated together in the execution of so simple a project. He finally embarked from Havre on the 1st of September, and arrived at Baltimore on the 30th of October, 1802." 14] PART IV. FROM THE ARRIVAL OF MR. PAINE IN BALTIMORE, OCTOBER 30, 1802j TO HIS DEATH IN 1809. The most interesting period of Mr. Paine's life has neces sarily already been given. He was now an old man, between sixty and seventy, yet vigorous, with his mental faculties unim paired. His strong desire to end his days in the United States was beautifully and pathetically expressed to a lady, in a letter from France, a few days before his arrival. This we have already given, page 127. The reception of Mr. Paine in the United States was such as might have been expected from his fame and independent course. In a letter to his friend Clio Rickman he thus expresses himself: — "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 newspaper was filled with applause or abuse. My property in this country has been taken care of by my friends, and is now worth six thousand pounds sterling ; which put in the funds will bring me £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." What course he meant to pursue in America his own words will best tell, and best characterize his sentiments and prin ciples ; they are these : — " As this letter is intended to announce my arrival to my friends, and my enemies if I have any, for I ought to have none in America, and as introductory to others that will occa- 142 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. sionally follow, I shall close it by detailing the line, of conduct I shall pursue. 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 tne literary world) could I reconcile it to my principles to make money by my politics or 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. I shall continue these letters as I see occasion, and as to the low party prints that choose to abuse me, they are welcome: I shall not descend to answer them. I have been too much used to such common stuff to take any notice of it. Thomas Paine. City of Washington." Mr. Paine did not remain long" at Baltimore, but while there the following characteristic circumstance occurred : — "Passing through Baltimore, he was accosted by the Rev. Mr. Hargrove, minister of a new sect, called the New Jeru- salemites. ' You are Mr. Paine,' said Mr. Hargrove. ' Yes.' ' My name is Hargrove, sir ; I am minister of the New Jeru salem church here. We, sir, explain the Scripture in its true meaning. The key has been lost above four thousand years, and we have found it.' ' Then,' said Paine, drily, ' it must have been very rusty.' Mr. Paine visited Washington, and was kindly received by Jefferson, then president ; indeed this gentleman kept up a constant correspondence with him to the day of his death. He had invited him to return to the United States, had sent out a ship for him, and on being asked if he had done so, he replied, " I have, and when he arrives, if there be an office in my gift, suitable for him to fill, I will give it to him ; I will never abandon old friends to make room for new ones." Mr. Paine, it appears, had resolved not to take office, his wants were moderate and his means sufficient. Mr. Paine visited the heads of the departments, and the various leading political characters, by whom he was received with pleasure, and re- MR. PAINE IN NEW YORK. 143 membered with gratitude, not, however, to be depended on when such remembrances came in contact with their popularity. Soon after Mr. Paine came to New York, and put up at the City hotel, then Lovett's hotel, where Grant Thorburn, well known in New York, says, in a pamphlet before noticed, that he visited him, introduced himself, shook hands with him, de clared that his only object in thus visiting Mr. Paine was to see the man who had written " Common Sense," and was so much talked about ; and having gratified his curiosity, as he says, he abruptly retired, to the no small amusement of the party. Thorburn had formerly adopted Mr. Paine's principles, but at this time he was a professor of religion, and held some office in a baptist church, the members of which, hearing that Mr. Grant Thorburn had shaken hands with Thomas Paine, thought proper to suspend him from the church on that account ; for this reason we have introduced the anecdote, as it explains the situation of all the friends of Mr. Paine, who were con nected with churches, either from principle or policy. While Mr. Paine was at Lovett's hotel, in spite of the in fluence of the church, he wa3 honored with a public dinner by a respectable and numerous party, and his after-enemy, Cheetham, then editor of a daily paper, the organ of the demo cratic party, was particularly active in making the arrange ments. Notwithstanding this public declaration in favor of Mr. Paine, he was not popular ; the church feared him and had set their curse upon him ; children had been taught to lisp his name in connexion with blasphemy ; and those polit ical leaders who sought after place, without regarding the means to be employed, and who needed the suffrages of the pious, and above all feared their united opposition, shunned the company of Mr. Paine as something contaminating. The people were deceived by the church, and those who knew better wanted the honesty to stem the torrent. Jefferson, Clinton, the mayor of New York, and a number of others, high in politics, literature, and situation in life, were honorable exceptions ; while the independence of Mr. Paine would not allow him to conceal his principles or conform in practices which involved even a portion of hypocrisy. On a morning 144 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. visit to Dr. Mitchill, in company with Mr. John Fellows, the latter reminded Mr. Paine, while in a gig, before they reached the doctor, that Mr. Paine had a morning gown on ; Mr. Paine replied, "Let those dress who need it." Cheetham has said much about the slovenly habits and appearance of Mr. Paine. Mr. Fellows, who 'knew him well from his first return to this country till his death, denies the whole of it. He remarks that he was careless of his appearance '(as the above little anecdote shows), but always cleanly and decent; and, as we before remarked, that he never saw him disguised in liquor but once, when he had been to a dinner-party, and that he was then only excited. This opinion we find uniformly sup ported by every credible person who knew him. The partial desertion of Mr. Paine, as a matter of policy, by many of the prominent leading political characters, opened a way to others of less influence in society, but more fearless of public opinion ; and some of these, with an indiscreet zeal, thrust themselves upon Mr. Paine, and claimed a sort of championship in his support. At this time Mr. Carver intro duced himself to Mr. Paine, as a fellow-townsman, who, when a boy, remembered the fame of the latter, at Lewes, in Sussex. Mr. Paine, too, probably, remembered him, for Carver had sometimes saddled his horse, and could remind him of these services and former times. Mr. Carver was at this period a respectable tradesman, a blacksmith and veterinary surgeon. He had a comfortable home, was liberal, and kept a horse and chaise ; but, above all, he was honest, independent, and openly avowed the opinions, political and theological, of Mr. Paine. With him Mr. Paine consented to live till he went to his farm at New Rochelle ; and thus he became a guest, and afterward a boarder and lodger of a man who, without meaning it, did his memory a great injustice, by becoming the tool of Cheetham in a fit of anger. Mrs. Bonneville and her three sons soon after arrived from France, on invitation from Mr. Paine to Mr. Bonneville and the whole family, as mentioned in the introduction to this life. Mr. Paine, who was simple in his habits, indeed economical, offered Mrs. Bonneville his small farm at Bordentown, where he wished to establish her in a school ; but this employment cheetham's falsehoods — paine in retirement. 145 did not suit the habits or taste of this lady, and thus the ex pense of herself and family fell entirely on Mr. Paine. He retired to New Rochelle, and boarded with Purdy, who lived on Paine's farm. Madam Bonneville, however, preferred New York, where she occasionally taught French, while the two boys were sent to school at New Rochelle by Mr. Paine ; the eldest, a youth of fourteen, returned to France. Mr. Paine was- godfather to one of the others, who had been named after him. He now divided his time between New York and New Ro chelle, boarding in various places, and sometimes living on his farm. Cheetham has represented Mr. Paine at this period, as dis gustingly dirty, drunken, ill-tempered, and quarrelsome, and with much impudence he has referred to living characters as proofs, and thus he gives to his falsehoods the appearance of truth ; while a portion of the clergy, eager to believe what they wished to be true, have propagated these falsehoods with the utmost zeal. We are, however, fortunate in being ac quainted with those who were about him at this time, and with some of those to whom Cheetham refers ; and these latter do not hesitate to blast the memory of this writer of Paine's life as a deliberate falsifier, and as an unprincipled man. Both Carver and Mr. Jarvis, the celebrated painter, thus speak of Cheetham, and yet he has had the impudence to re fer to them for events as facts which he knew to be fabricated. At this time, 1803 and 1804, when Mr. Paine was backward and forward, from New York to New Rochelle, he resided for several weeks at the private house of Captain Pelton, who also kept the store at New Rochelle. He resided also for two months in the winter with Mr. Staple, at New Rochelle. Mr. D. Burger, the brother-in-law of Mr. Staple, was the clerk to Captain Pelton, and when Mr. Paine was rather poorly, he drove him in a gig daily about the neighborhood. He, too, supplied Mr. Paine with all the liquor he took, which was one quart of rum in a week, to serve himself and visiters. Mr. Burger* is well known to us, he has since lived for many years in New York, as a watch and clock-maker, and for * This gentleman is since dead, but. his eldest son lives and remembers the statement of his father. 19 146 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. some time he had the care of the public clocks ; his veracity is not disputed. He describes Mr. Paine as really abstemi ous, and when pressed, to drink by those on whom he called during his rides, he usually refused with great firmness, but politely. In one of these rides he was met by De Witt Clinton, and their mutual greetings were extremely hearty. Mr. Paine at this time was the reverse of morose, and though careless in his dress and prodigal of his snuff, he was always clean and well clothed. Mr. Burger describes him as familiar even with children, and humane to animals, occasionally sitting by the store, playing with the neighboring children, and communicating a friendly pat, even to a passing dog, assuring him he would not see him hurt. Such were the simple habits of the man, described to be wallowing in filth, drunkenness, and brutality. At the time of Mr. Paine's residence at his farm, Mr. Ward, now a coffee-roaster in Gold street, New Yoik, and an assistant alderman, was then a little boy and residing about Rochelle. He remembers the impressions his mother and some religious people made on him by speaking of Tom Paine, so that he concluded Tom Paine must be a very bad and brutal man. Some of his elder companions proposed going into Mr. Paine's orchard to obtain some fruit, and he, out of fear, kept at a distance behind, till he beheld, to his surprise, Mr. Paine come out and assist the boys in getting apples, patting one on the head and caressing another, and directing them where to get the best. He then advanced and received his share of encour agement, and the impression this kindness made on him determined him at a very early period to examine his writings. His mother at first took the books from him, but at a later period restored them to him, observing that he was then of an age to judge for himself; perhaps she had herself been gradually undeceived, both as to his character and writings. In 1804, Mr. Purdy having left his farm, Mr. Paine hired one Derick to cultivate it, when he and the family of the Bonnevilles boarded for some time at Mr. James Wilburn's, in Gold street. At this period Mr. John Fellows, still living in New York, and respected as a good citizen, boarded at the PAINE AND MADAME BONNEVILLE. 147 same house, and testifies to the propriety both of Mr. Paine's and Madame Bonneville's conduct. Mr. Paine's notions of economy did not however accord with those of Madame Bon neville. She was constantly incurring expenses which he deemed unnecessary, while she, relying upon the protection which he had promised both her and her husband, did not scruple to send bills in to him which he had not sanctioned. One of these was presented by Mr. Wilburn, for board to the amount of thirty-five dollars, which she had incurred beyond what he had sanctioned. This demand Mr. Paine resisted, perhaps to check Mrs. Bonneville, and make her either con tent with a simple competence at his farm in Bordentown, or with him at Rochelle, or that she should by industry acquire the means of a more ample expenditure. The action was brought, and Mr. Fellows was a witness J but the plaintiff was nonsuited, for the debt had been incurred without Mr. Paine's consent. No sooner, however, was thetrial ended in the favor of Mr. Paine than he paid Mr. Wilburn the money ; thus justifying the view we have taken of this subject. Honorable and ljberal as this transaction is to Mr. Paine, Cheetham, and after him Mr. Paine's enemies, have retailed this story as if it were to his discredit. There is no reconciling tastes or standards of expenditure. Madame Bonneville's was probably too high to be prudent. Taste is a gift of nature, but partly depending on education. A difference of tastes, where two persons are interested, will always lead to divisions, and Madame Bonneville does not seem to have readily yielded, or to have been very scrupulous as to the means she employed. On one occasion, as we learn from Mr. Carver, and as Cheet ham has expressed in a note (if such authority can be relied on), " Before his return to the city, Madame Bonneville paid him a visit, and arrived just at candle-light. She told him she had an order which she wished him to sign, for clothing for herself and the children, who were all in fact nearly naked. She pre sented the order. Paine said, ' I'll put it in my pocket and read it in the morning.' — ' No,' said she, ' you must sign it to-night : I want to return and get the things to-morrow.' — ' 1 cannot read in the night, I'll keep it till morning.' — ' Then,' said Mad ame Bonneville, with some temper/if you won't read it to-night, give it me back.' Paine resisted all her importunities : he kept 148 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. the paper until the morning, when he found, that instead of an order for clothing, it was a bond, duly drawn, for seven hundred pounds. Quite enraged, he went to Mrs. Dean's and told her the story, by whom, and by Mr. Carver, it is mentioned to me." In these circumstances Madame Bonneville" was some times left to want what she thought comforts, yet it does not appear that they had any serious quarrels, although these differences interrupted that cordial intimacy which both per haps expected. Yet, at his death, we shall find he left her, her husband, and family, the bulk of his property, which was then very considerable. During this time Mr. Paine was not idle, he had generally some work on politics, science, or literature, on hand. He mixed a little too with party politics, communicated with some papers and periodicals, and, when Cheetham deserted the demo cratic cause, he lashed him with the severity of party spirit, but not unjustly ; and hence the revenge which Cheetham afterward took. Mr. Paine now, too, published many little things which had been written long before for amusement : when in France or in England. One of these was a piece of \poetry in the style of " Chevy Chase," entitled, " The Strange 'Story of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram," perhaps the severest thing ever written upon ty thes'. In 1804 he published an essay on the invasion of England, and a treatise on gun-boats, full of valuable maritime information ; and, in 1805, a treatise on the yellow fever, and suggests modes of prevention, especially in the improvement of the docks, so as to favor cleanliness. He had now been residing for some time at New Rochelle, when Mr. Carver rode out to see him, and in his zeal urged him to come into the city to oblige his friends, and offered him a room in his house. Mr. Paine consented, and thus again became an inmate with Mr. Carver, without any engagement as to terms, an error extremely injurious in its conse quence. Mr. Paine lived with the family, and occasionally made purchases for them, thus complicating the accounts. While he thus resided in Cedar street, with Mr. Carver, his friend, Elihu Palmer, with his wife, boarded in the same street, and within sight of Mrs. Burtsell's ; him Mr. Paine visited daily, and when Mr. Paine was seized with an epileptic fit, and PAINE AND JARVIS. 149 fell down stairs, Mrs. Palmer attended on him. The attend ance which he thus required, when ill, still farther served/ to complicate the accounts between him and Mr. Carver. Mrs. Burtsell, still living in Cedar street, speaks with enthusiasm of the agreeable manners of Mr. Paine. She declares she never saw him intoxicated, though he was daily in her house. By the advice of a medical man Mr. Paine now left Mr. Carver's, and lived in Church street with Mr. Jarvis, the, celebrated painter, still living.* Here he soon recovered, and he and Mr. Jarvis became good companions ; the one the greatest wit of the age, and the other, though now an old man, not deficient in sprightly thoughts or conversation, and abounding in information. Mr. Jarvis still speaks of their agreeable com panionship with much -gust, and relates a number of anecdotes highly characteristic ; and he positively denies, to us the language ascribed to "him by Cheetham. As Mr. Jarvis was at this time in good circumstances, and received Mr. Paine as a companion, the Cheetham stories of Mr. Paine's dirtiness kill themselves, for it is absurd to suppose Mr. Jarvis would have had such a companion. The following are among the anecdotes related by Mr. Jarvis in, relation to Mr. Paine : — " He usually took a nap after dinner, and would not be dis turbed let who would call to see him. 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, with1 an expression of eye that staggered the old woman back a step or two, he asked — 'What do you want 1' — 'Is your name Paine V — 'Yes,' Well then, I come from Almighty God, to tell you, that if you do not repent of your sips and believe in our blessed Savior 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 ugly 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 astonishment." * Died since the manuscript was written. 150 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. Mr. Paine still visited New Rochelle, while ostensibly with Mr. Jarvis. He had left Mr. Carver without any direct settle ment of accounts. Mr. Carver's circumstances had now altered from some family affairs which he could not control, and altered circumstances produced altered feelings. When Mr. Carver was in good circumstances, he thought only of the honor and pleasure of having Mr. Paine under the same roof with him, the terms of his board were a secondary consider ation. We have already remarked that no agreement was made. Now in altered circumstances, of which Mr. Paine does not appear to be aware, his charge was an object. In the first note from Carver to Mr. Paine on this subject, published by Cheetham, Mr. Carver uses this expression, " 1 have made a calculation of my expenditures on your account, the last time you were at my house, and find they amount to one hundred and fifty or sixty dollars." He charges for twenty- two weeks for Mr. Paine and twelve for Mrs. Palmer, who assisted him in his illness ; and he takes no notice of the few things Mr. Paine had purchased. He reminds Mr. Paine of his riches, and concludes by saying that he should not ask one cent if he could afford it. Mr. Paine at this time did not ex pect a long-life. The fit and subsequent sickness had shaken his constitution. He had put Mr. Carver down in his will for a handsome sum ; and from the manner of the invitation and supposed circumstances of Mr. Carver, perhaps he never ex pected a formal charge. At any rate, Mr. Paine was indig nant at this charge, which he considered unjust, and proposed paying the money down at once, and having nothing more to do with him.' This he was prevented from doing by Mr. John Fellows, who was present when the demand was made by Mr. Carver's boy. Mr. Fellows and Mr. Morton, the friends of Mr. Paine, considered the charge too high ; and these finally settled the account upon what they considered just principles. The charge might have been perfectly just, as, in Mr. Carver's altered circumstances, he might have remembered former hospitalities, for he refers to them in one of his letters. There might have been but a trifling difference had Mr. Paine made up the account. The fault was, not having a definite agree ment ; and this foolish affair produced a quarrel. Mr. Paine CARVER'S LETTER — CHEETHAM. 15 1 replied to this note in an angry manner to Mr. Carver, and Carver, remarkable for his boldness, replied in the severest terms possible, giving the very worst construction to every event concerning Mr. Paine he could think of. Hjs epileptic fit he insinuates was drunkenness ; and he infers an improper connexion with Madame Bonneville, merely however in an inuendo, with a sarcastic remark about young Thomas, the godson, being like Mr. Paine. He refers to his trouble when Mr. Paine was sick, and reminds him of the quantity of water he procured for his personal cleanliness. This personal quarrel was soon forgotten, and the angry letters should have been destroyed ; but both letters had been read in public by some zealous friends, and copies were taken. They ought to have been obliterated ; but after Mr. Paine's death, in 1809, Cheetham sought out Mr. Carver, obtained a copy, deceived him as to his intention and the nature of his publication, and published these letters against Carver's will. The mere pub lication of these letters would avail nothing among a candid people ; they were avowedly written in anger, but there were persons who wished to believe. Even among such these angry letters could avail but little ; but Mr. Cheetham, with fiendish ingenuity, not only inserted these letters, but in other parts of his life, presuming on their publication, boldly asserts as facts what Carver had only insinuated, leaving the impres sion that these letters are additional confirmations of the facts, instead of the only foundation for such reports. Thus he di rectly charges Mr. Paine with adultery with Madame Bonne ville. He charges him with drunkenness, coarseness, and dirtiness directly, which are only insinuated or implied in Carver's angry letters. In the first charge Mrs. Bonneville was implicated, and she very properly prosecuted Cheetham. On the trial, which we have read, he could only bring Mr. Carver as witness, and Mr. Carver could only say what he had before written, and his counsel was obliged to withdraw the justification and acknowledge that the accusation was a false and MALictous libel. The other charges applied to Mr. Paine only, and he was dead and could not prosecute. We, after diligent inquiry, believe them also false and malicious, and that they have no other foundation than the angry letter 152 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. of Mr. Carver, and the malicious revengeful spirit of Cheet ham ; for this reason we have detailed this foolish quarrel. We have now approached the year 1807, the seventieth of Mr. Paine's life, and two years only before his death. In the spring of this year he removed to Broome street, at one Mr. Hitt's, a baker ; here he lived some time ; and while in Broome street he published an examination ofthe passages in the New Testament, quoted from the Old, and called " Prophesies of Jesus Christ," &c. This work shows all the acumen of his former works ; it marks the most laborious examination of the Scriptures. The Bible of Mr. Paine had been most carefully read, it was marked all over ; indeed, no book had been read by him more than that. , Mr. Paine lived successively in Partition street and afterward in Greenwich street, near the state-prison ; but his sickness in creased on him, and boarding-house attention was scarcely suf ficient. Madame Bonneville took a small house for him, May, 1809, in Columbia street, and here she attended on him till his death. Mr. Paine was perfectly conscious of his approaching dissolution, and some time before he wished to arrange for his burial in the quakers' burying-ground, as the least obnoxious to his feelings ; and for this purpose he applied to Mr. Willit > Hicks,' a preacher and influential member of that body, as his father had been of that persuasion. Mr. Hicks saw no objec tion, he had no prejudice on his own account, and brought this subject bef&re the church; and to their discredit they , denied the request. While Mr. Paine was at Mr. Jarvis's he seemed to foresee what would be the scene of his death-bed, and what some fanatical persons would attempt after his death. With that shrewdness of judgment which he always possessed, and which displayed itself during the revolution, by his instantly antici pating what the British government would do, he was enabled to prepare the people for the various proclamations and de ceptive propositions before they arrived ; nay, some of the^se appeared but a repetition of Paine's statements. The conse quence was, they lost their effect, as far as his influence went. So, on this occasion, he foretold that when on a sick bed attempts would be made to convert him to Christianity, DEATH-BED OF MR. PAINE. 153 or to make it appear that he was converted ; and that after his death reports would be spread of his death-bed repentance, of his unbelief ; then, appealing to Mr. Jarvis, he observed, "Now lam in health, and in perfect soundness of mind ; now is the time to express my opinion." And thus having called Mr. Jarvis to witness, he solemnly repeated his belief in his already written opinions. What Mr. Paine had foreseen came to pass: As his illness assumed a fatal appearance he was visited by men and women who obtruded upon his last moments their religious principles, either from christian simplicity and ignorant sincerity, and, most likely, in some of them, from hypocrisy ; in the hopes of being able to contort some of his answers into a manifestation of fear or conversion, or to give them an opportunity of in venting a recantation for him. This is by no means an un charitable supposition from the facts which followed his death, when the second part of Mr. Paine's prophesy was fulfilled by an invention of the kind, and by pious falsehoods promul gated to willing ears. The position is not uncharitable, for the dying moments of Voltaire have been misrepresented by similar pious frauds. Nor are these the only instances where base falsehoods have been perpetrated in the name of God for a supposed pious purpose. Even the judge, who after ward sentenced Cheetham for a false and malicious libel on the memory of Mr. Paine and Madame Bonneville, declared Cheetham's life a useful book, because it tended to suppress the influence of Mr. Paine's writings. After these and other proofs of lying, for the sake of God, in remembrance too of the counterpart, we think we are justified in assuming that some of the visiters were hypocrites, and came there to dis tort his answers, or as an excuse for invention, than for any reasonable hope of converting and saving his soul. Among the most prominent and zealous visiters of Mr. Paine in his last days were the Rev. Mr. Milledollar, a presbyterian clergyman, and the Rev. Mr. Cunningham, about a fortnight before Mr. Paine's death. This latter gentleman told Paine that they visited him as friends and neighbors, and added, " You have now a full view of death, you cannot live long, and whosoever does not believe in Jesus Christ will assuredly be 20 154 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. damned." Mr. Paine replied, " Let me have none of your popish stuff. Get away with you. Good morning, good morning." Mr. Milledollar attempted to address him, but was interrupted by Mr. Paine ; and when they were gone, he said to Mrs. Hedden, his housekeeper, " Don't let'em come here again, they trouble me." In spite of Mr. Paine's declaration these gentlemen again attempted to obtrude themselves upon him, but they were refused admittance, as directed, by Mrs. Hedden, who piously added, " If God does not change his mind, she was sure no human power could." Mr, Willit Hicks, himself a preacher, a most respectable member of the friends, and a man of hign standing in the com munity, yet alive, was then a neighbor of Mr. Paine, and in his last illness visited him daily, and on the day of his death. This gentleman, whom we especially visited, assured us that Mr. Paine was beset by clergymen ; that on one occasion a methodist minister obtruded on Mr. Paine when he, Mr. Hicks, was present. The minister, we suppose sincerely, declared to Mr. Paine, with uplifted hands, that " unless he repented of his unbelief he would be damned." Mr. Hicks describes Mr. Paine as rising in his bed with indignation at the intrusion and ignorant presumption, and, sick as he was, declaring that if he was able he would immediately put him out of the room. We recently met one of these visiting parties who sought to convert Mr. Paine on his death-bed, a Mr. Pigott, formerly a legislator, and now a man of high moral standing. He has a brother a minister, a learned stu dious man, but unfortunately blind. He was so at the time of Mr. Paine's death, and he felt desirous of converting Mr. Paine, and engaged his brother, Mr. Pigott, our informant, to go with him. With some difficulty they obtained access, for Mr. Paine was then annoyed, as we have seen, by obtruders ; but as this gentleman had once adopted the opinions of Mr. Paine, and was then blind, these qualities obtained the brothers an audience. Mr. Pigott remarked that Mr. Paine was in bed and sick, but that he received them with politeness, and cheerfully conversed with his brother^ who was a learned thoughtful man ; but when his brother proceeded to state that he had changed his opinions, and about to urge on Mr. Paine, DEATH-BED OF MR. PAINE. 155 sincerely in "this case no doubt, the necessity of re-examina tion and conversion, Mr. Paine abruptly closed the con versation, and intimated his displeasure, and a wish for their immediate departure ; and they thus left the room. Mr. Pigott describes Mr. Paine as a large-faced man, with a most pener trating eye, and immense of expression of countenance, mark ing- lively sensibilities, which the peculiar character of the visit brought out ; for he had seen him pleased with his brother, intelligent and communicative, and then indignant at supposing the brother could change his opinions. The friends of Mr. Paine visited him till his death. Mr. Jarvis saw him one or two days before his dissolution, and on that day he had expected to die during the night, to Mr. Jarvis he expressed a continued belief in his written opinions ; of this we are informed by Mr. Jarvis. Mr. Thomas Nixon, and his old friend Mr. Pelton, visited him expressly on the subject of his opinions, so did Mr. B. F. Hasken, a respectable attor ney, now residing in Chambers street, New York ; and, as they say, aware that falsehoods might be resorted to, because such means had before been used with others, they put down Mr. Paine's answers in writing. But when they first proposed their questions, as Mr. Paine did not know their motive, he seemed hurt that they should suppose he had any doubts on the subject. We have this account personally from Mr. Hasken, and we shallgive a letter from Mr. T. Nixon and Mr. D. Pelton in another place. Mr. Paine suffered consider ably in his illness, but he retained his mental faculties to the last. Death made slow approaches, and dropsy, attended by a cough and vomiting, were the last symptoms of approaching dissolution. On the eighth of June, about nine in the morn ing, he died, placid and almost without a struggle, notwith standing his previous sufferings. And his last words, .as re corded by Dr. Manley were; — •" I have no wish to believe on the subject," in answer to the question, " Do you wish to believe that Jesus is the Son of God 1" put by the pious doctor himself, who was curious on the subject. Fortunately we have the living testimony of the person who sat up with Mr. Paine on the night previous to his death. This testimony cost us a journey to Bosfon, but we are 156 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. amply repaid for our labor. On our return we published the testimony in the BeacOn of June 5, 1839, Vol. III., page 240. A precaution we have taken for these eight years, during which time we have had the command of a press ; for aware that many of the witnesses to this history, being then advanced in years, might die, we published their testimony in detail while yet alive, and capable of verifying our statements if correct, or of contradicting them if erroneous. As a speci men of this method of chronicling events, which we meant to imbody in this work, we extract the following from the Bea con (see reference above) : — l. THOMAS PAINE'S DEATH-BET/. " We have just returned from Boston. One object of our visit to that city, was to see a Mr. Amasa Woodsworth, an engineer, now retired in a handsome cottage and garden at East Cambridge, Boston. This gentleman owned the house rented by Mrs. Bonneville for Mr. Paine at his death ; while he lived next door. As an act of kindness Mr. Woodsworth visited Mr. Paine every day for six weeks before his death ; he frequently sat up with him, and did so on the last two nights of his life. He was always there with Dr. Manley the physician, and assisted in removing Mr. Paine, while his bed was prepared: he was present when Dr. Manley asked Mr. Paine ' if he wished to believe that Jesus Christ was the Son of God,' and- he describes Mr. Paine's answer as animated. He says, that lying on his back, he used some action, and with much emphasis replied, ' I have no wish to believe on that subject.' He lived a short time after this, but was not known to speak, for he died tranquilly. He accounts for the insinuating style of Dr. Manley's letter, by stating that that gentleman just after its publication joined a church. He in forms us that he has openly reproved the doctor for the falsity contained in the spirit of that letter, boldly declaring before Dr. Manley, who is yet living, that nothing which he saw justified his (the doctor's) insinuations. Mr. Woodsworth assures us that he neither heard nor saw anything to justify the belief of any mental change in the opinions of Mr. Paine previous to his death ; but that being very ill and in pain, chiefly arising from the skin being removed in some parts by long laying, he was generally too uneasy to enjoy conversa tion on abstract subjects. This, then, is the best evidence that can be procured on this subject, and we publish it while the contravening parties are yet alive, and with the authority of Mr. Woodsworth. — g. v." DEATH OF MR. PAINE. 157 Mr. Woodsworth is yet alive, and his testimony has derived additional importance from the evidence of Mr. Willet Hicks, which we shall shortly give. We refer especially to his re marks on the conduct of Dr. Manley ; and when we produce Mr. Hicks' evidence, we shall have to request that our readers will return to the previous page, and again read'this testimony, and compare it with that evidence. The day after the death of Mr.Paine he was taken from his house in Greenwich village to New Rochelle, attended by a few friends, and was there buried on his farm, and a plain stone was erected to his memory, with the following inscription: — THOMAS PAINE, AUTHOR OF " COMMON SENSE." Died June 8, 1809, aged seventy-two years and five months. Mr. Paine left behind him a manuscript in answer to Bishop Watson. A copy of this is now in the hands of Madame Bon neville. A catholic priest in this country borrowed another copy of her, which has never been returned. In reviewing the life of Mr. Thomas Paine, we can see no defect in his public character. He was a citizen of the world, and served its interests to the best of his abilities, which were great. " Where liberty is, that is my country," said Dr. Franklin. Mr. Paine replied, " Where liberty is not, that is my country," in reference to his exertions for liberty in the United States, England, and France. Paine wrote for man kind, and he maybe emphatically styled " the friend of man." Here he was a good citizen, and a firm supporter of the gov ernment ; because that government is based upon the rights of man, with the exception of the recognition of slavery in the southern states, unfortunately engrafted on the community before the war of independence. Whatever may be the opinion of Mr. Paine's theological works, his honesty in pub lishing them cannot be doubted by any impartial reader. He believed those opinions true, and he believed the truth useful to mankind ; while his especial object was to establish a re ligious principle in France, then becoming atheistical. The 158 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. best argument in support of deism is to be found in the first part of the " Age of Reason." In this view of the subject Mr. Paine ought to have been taken by the hand by every believer inthe existence, wisdom, power, and goodness of one supreme God, the maker and sustainer ofthe universe. Mr. Paine gave up the copyright of his theological works, just as he had done that of his political, and for the same reason, public good. His prudence in publishing his " Age of Reason," has been doubted ; and if he had been ambitious, and had consulted his own interest, he would have abstained from such a publication ; but he was neither ambitious nor covetous, except of honest fame, from honest and intelligent men, and that he has ob tained. His political career was run, and the doors apparently closed against an extension of liberty at that time, and there fore his political usefulness was not injured. The United States had accomplished her independence ; the revolution in France was completed, and liberty disgraced by excesses , which the " Age of Reason" was intended to restrain, as it taught toleration ; while in England the cause of liberty wac checked by war, and his political works suppressed ; but - church aggressions were oppressive ; there the "Age of Reason" had nearly effected a revolution, and the odious system of tythes was almost prostrated. We cannot then admit that Mr. Paine was imprudent in the publication. The age of reason has now arrived, at least in New York, and every man chooses to read and think for himself, whatever may be his conclusions ; and Mr. Paine was scarcely in advance of the age. Of Mr. Paine's private character, we cannot say it was per fect. We should be sorry if we could ; for then we could not hope to be believed. Mr. Paine was a part of human nature, and partook of its imperfections. He wrote a foolish angry letter to Carver. He was, no doubt, penurious, to a limited extent, in his old age ; and in sickness we can easily conceive of his being sometimes peevish and angry ; he would not be man if he were not ; but these are all the personal blemishes we can discover, and these are counterbalanced by the most noble and social qualities. He had a heart to feel for the distresses of mankind, and a head to conceive the MR. PAINE'S PRIVATE LIFE. 159 means of relief. The charge of Madame Bonneville and family was at once an act of generosity and gratitude, however unpleas ant their different tastes, or sense of propriety rendered their mutual duties. Mr. Paine possessed every prominent virtue (if not in perfection, which human nature forbids) in large proportions ; and to these he added the most social qualities. in public, without being a great talker, he was cheerful, commu nicative, abounding in information and anecdote, and in private he was not less agreeable, on the testimony of Mr. John Fellows, Mr. Jarvis, and a host of others, his companions. Few people are aware of the morals and decorum of Mr. Paine. We have already observed that he never used vulgar oaths, and that he even goodhumoredly reproved his friends who did. Mr. Jarvis, who gave us the above information, observed that he once, by way of a joke, advised Mr. Paine to recant, and publish his recantation as a hoax, assuring him that he would then make a large fortune and get a good living. Mr. Paine, shaking his head, replied, " Tom Paine never told a lie." We do not discover in Mr. Paine, on any account, even a prevarication ; such was his love of truth, while he had too much sense to be the dupe of the falsehood of others. The charge of drunkenness we can find no ground for, unless it occurred in France for a short period ; and yet the company he there kept seems to forbid it. But as this charge, is so generally believed we shall take the liberty of naming a few persons who knew him personally during his last residence in New York, some of whom were in the habit of meeting him in public, and others in public and private societies, his com panions for years ; and of these, none ever saw him drunk, and most of them are well known and respected for their veracity. Among others, are Mr. John Fellows,* Mr. D. Burger,f Mr. Ming, senr., Judge Herttell, Mr. Jarvis, Mr. Bassinet, Nassau street, Mr. B. F. Haskin, attorney, Chambers street, Mr. H. Magary, Wiliet Hicks, &c, &c, to which we could add a number now dispersed about the states, as Amasa Woods- worth, near Boston, and all the old inhabitants of New Rochelle. There exists, too, a note on this subject to Mr. Caleb * Saw him once elevated, after attending a dinner-party. f Since dead. 160 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. Bingham, bookseller, Boston, from Mr. Lovett, now deceased, but formerly of the City hotel, New York, where Mr. Paine put up after his last return to this country. In that note Mr. Lovett declares that -Mr. Paine drank less than any of his other boarders, while at his hotel : and this accords with what Mr. Jarvis and others have informed us, that " he did not, and could not, drink much." Our author, for the existence of this note, is Mr. John Fellows, a gentleman well known, and whose veracity was never doubted. The note was written to answer an inquiry, and shown to Mr. John Fellows, our in formant. This subject is puerile in itself, were there not a host who sincerely believe Mr. Paine to have been disgustingly a drunkard or a sot. Others of liberal minds, would at once perceive that he who possessed all his faculties to an advanced age unimpaired, could not commonly indulge in such gross excesses ; and if he had indulged in excesses sometimes only, it was merely a fault in the age which has passed. But we have a much more important inference, beside a desire to undeceive those who have been duped. We think we have given abundant evidence that Mr. Paine was neither a sot nor drunkard ; and we know of no contrary evidence, nothing but hearsay, which, when approached, vanishes. How then are we to regard this slander, its circulation, its reiteration, the boldness of the assailants, and the variety of forms it assumed, from the pulpit, the press, and in prints ; and in private, from mouth to mouth, till his very friends were deceived, as we were, till we commenced this investigation. What now is the secret cause of slander, but the desire to check the influ ence of an individual or his writings. Could the " Age of Reason" and " Rights of Man" have been replied to, as he replied to Burke, we should never have heard these slanders ; and kings and priests, lordlings, an aristocracy and their syco phants, and the sincerely pious, but duped disciples of Jesus, never would have formed one mighty mass to circulate a petty slander but from fear. Some feared the truth— it would dis turb their old prejudices ; but others feared reform, because where equal rights are maintained, privileges must be yielded, and the leeches on society must give up their hold. But why did the slanderers fix on the minor vice of inebriety1? It is THE SLANDERERS- OF MR. PAINE. 161 clear, by fixing on so small a vice as inebriety for the subject of slander, that there was no pretence even for other vices. Had he been unjust, not addicted to truth, a man wanting principle, or possessed of any public vice, these would neces sarily have been laid hold of; and this is a negative evidence that no pretence for public vice existed. But how are we to regard his slanderers, the great body of whom are sincere, re ligious, and feminine. What an amalgamation do the slanderers of Paine present. The young girl of pious education vocifer ating Tom Paine, the filthy, drunken, Tom Paine ; the pious teacher, perhaps also deceived, but without examination, preaching from the pulpit, that the opponent of the gospel scheme lived and died a degraded, a drunken being. To these are added the arch hypocrite, who knows the slander, but, from interested motives, joins the bitter cry of Tom Paine and inebriety. To these again are added the thousands of decent people of all religions, who, finding it fashionable to pronounce the name of Paine with a sneer, generously believe what everybody says ; and these add their mite of slander, making in the aggregate a mountain. But to these must yet be added the politician, the sneaking artful man who could not afford to lose a vote, and who, conscious of the contrary, chimes in with the pious, and pronounces Tom Paine and excess with su preme disgust, as an assurance that the speaker, the politician, is neither sot, drunkard, nor infidel; but even the political drunkard will join the throng, and in his beer become ex tremely pious, and denounce Tom Paine as drunken and dirty, being willing to believe what he wishes to be true, as an excuse for himself, and degrading to the principles which Paine manifested, and which our drunken politician eschews. This mass have sought to overwhelm the name of Paine by associating it with intoxication, for which there is not a par ticle of proof. We cannot say a shadow, for a shadow there was, and this, perhaps, rendered the extension of the slander easy. Mr. Paine used, but did not abuse, liquor. He had a large florid face, and this, we believe, favored the report among those who only knew him by sight. If now we push back the slander, on whom does it rest. Are the sincere jus tified, because of their sincerity, in propagating slander "! Is it 21 162 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. in accordance with their religion 1 It is evident it exists, with religion most sincere. It exists with the ministers of .religion some of whom were sincere but ignorant, others, not sincere, but interested ; but the whole body was contaminated, minister and people, by circulating slander. This then was the visible religion Mr. Paine would have uprooted, while the political tyrants and sycophants, who joined the crusade, from the basest motives, and they have now their representatives, but ill contrast in sentiment and feelings with the noble principles of the man whose fame they would suppress. " The world my country, to do good my eeligion," were the sublime senti ments of this sincere and able advocate of human rights, whose fair fame has been thus abused. Immediately on the death of Mr. Paine, Cheetham, his polit ical enemy, began to collect materials for his life, which was published the same year. We have already noticed the manner in which he collected those materials, and the recklessness with which he repeated the grossest and most malicious false hoods, while in the most impudent manner he inserted the names of living witnesses. His conviction in the case of Madame Bonneville did something to undeceive the public ; still Mr. Paine's memory suffers from this malignity. We had by us Mr. Carver's copy of Cheetham's first edition of the "Life of Paine," including the matter for which he (Cheet ham) was prosecuted. This copy Mr. Carver sold to Mr. Parkins, ex-sheriff of London, and he, Mr. Parkins, loaned it to us. The book is margined by notes in Carver's hand writing ; a few of which we shall notice or extract, although they are extremely coarse. The first note on the blank leaf after the preface, charges Cheetham with villifying Mr. Paine, and also Mr. Palmer, and plainly calls Mr. Cheetham a hypocrite. To this Carver puts his name and address, 36 Cedar street. Page 47, Cheetham says, " ' Common Sense' has no merit" Carver adds, " One more of Cheetham's lies." Page 209, Cheetham pretends a great reverence for received religious opinions/ Carver adds, " I believe Cheetham was an athiest, as he told me that Mirabeau's ' System of Nature' could never be answered. He was a hypocrite." Page 210, Carver says, " Cheetham fol- CHEETHAM'S FALSEHOODS. 163 lowed Palmer in principles, but was not half as good and moral a man." He adds, " Cheetham was an abominable liar." This last expression is repeated in various parts of the book, with some variations, such as, " Cheetham was a liar, and, if reports are true, he should have treated his wife better." On the last page Carver adds, " I once told Cheetham in his own house, as that he had had his hands crossed with British gold." This is one of the witnesses to whom Cheetham constantly refers ; and this witness thus denounces the man who refers to him, in the plain language we have shown, as not to be relied on. Mr. Jarvis is another, and he too uses the same expressions, in relation to Cheetham, which Carver does. Could we then get access to th'e other living witness to whom Cheetham refers for proofs of Mr. Paine's failings, we might find in them the same indignation and conviction of Cheetham's impudence and falsehoods.* The cunning of Cheetham, in getting up materials for the life of Paine, will clearly be seen by again referring to Joel Barlow's letter to Cheetham (page 135). It is clear that Barlow was deceived, and we were deceived when we first read this let ter in Cheetham's life of Paine, and continued deceived till we had examined the question of Mr. Paine's habits of temperance during the last years in New York. We then re-read Barlow's letter, and discovered the cunning. Mr. Barlow 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 toward the latter years of his life, and says he was informed that he was drunk when taken to prison in France. Now Mr. Barlow does not contradict Cheetham ; he could not, as Cheetham had the better opportunity of knowing facts, and Mr. Barlow does not suspect him of falsehood ; as who would 1 He therefore * Cheetham sported with truth. He published in his paper an account of Burr's duel with Hamilton, in which he declared that Burr had undergarments of silk, to turn off the ball if hit, and that a garment of silk would do this ; for that a Mr. Lawrence, then well known, had by accident fired off a pistol, that the ball struck his leg, and turned off from the effect of the silk-stocking. On the Sunday following Judge Herttell dined where Cheetham was, when he related the story of this publication as a hoax, and laughed at the people's credulity ; as we are informed by Mr. Herttell. 164 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. presumes Mr. Cheetham correct in the statement, and goes on, not to excuse 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 acknowl edging Mr. Paine's intemperance, and other infirmities, which had no other foundation than Cheetham's declaration, given to deceive Barlow ; who afterward, as we have seen, gives Barlow's letter to deceive the public. In the next place Cheetham informs Mr. Barlow that he had heard Mr. Paine was drunk when sent to prison, and boldly gives his authority ; as he did in the libel case Here Mr. Barlow happened to be qualified to judge, for Paine was brought to his house when he was arrested, and Mr. Barlow distinctly disavows the state ments ; but he is too polite, or too unsuspicious, to suppose himself cheated ; yet it is evident on this assertion and alleged evidence, had Mr. Barlow not known by accident the contrary, he too would have presumed the fact on Cheetham's state ment, and, perhaps, would have endeavored to excuse Mr. Paine for being intoxicated at such a time ; when the fact was, he was not intoxicated, nor is there any evidence that he was in the habit of being intoxicated. Of the referee, Mr. Murray, our friend Mr. John Fellows thus speaks : — " I happen to know something of the Mr. Murray alluded to above, whose testimony Mr. Barlow proves to be false. It is thus,that Cheetham collected stories injurious to the character of Paine. Mr. Murraywas an English speculator in France, in the time of the revolution, and was once imprisoned as a spy. His enmity to Paine and the principles for which France was contending, I am confident (from my knowledge of the man), would induce him to fabricate any story calculated to throw obloquy upon either." Now who can doubt but that Cheetham knew the qualities of this man, whom he used as a referee, especially after we have seen the unscrupulous character of Cheetham as to truth. But perhaps it will be asked, what could induce Cheetham thus to lie 1 We have before remarked, that Cheetham had edited the leading republican paper ; but that he had become a renegade, and was then in support of the English tory party, and was preparing to go to England, when he died. His life PAINE AND CHEETHAM. 165 of Paine he knew was a passport to the English court, and he intended to defend the Bible and crown against Cobbet, who had shortly before broken his connexion with the English government, and was then in successful opposition. Such is the evidence we obtained from a gentleman who was then head-clerk to Cheetham, and this we find sustained by others. Besides, Paine had been very severe on Cheetham for his political change ; and this would stimulate his revenge. The following, published by Mr. Paine a short time before his death, will show the relation Mr. Cheetham bore to Mr. Paine at that time, and how badly qualified such a man must be for an impartial biographer. Mr. Paine had published an article in the Public Advertiser, on the defence of the harbor of New York. Cheetham had attacked Paine on that article, and Mr. Paine in his reply remarks : — " Mr. Cheetham speaks much about Locke, and says, that ' all political elementary writers on government since the days of Locke, including Mr. Paine, are but the mere retailers of his ideas and doctrines.' This is John Bullism all over. He also says, that ' on hereditary and elective government, Mr. Paine, in his " Common Sense" and " Rights of Man," has followed Locke idea for idea.' It may be so for what I know, for I never read Locke, nor ever had the work in my hand, and by what I have heard of it from Home Tooke, I had no inducement to read it. It is a speculative, not a practical work, and the style of it is heavy and tedious, as all Locke's writings are. I suppose Locke has spoken of hereditary and elective mon archy, but the representative, as laid down in ' Common Sense' and ' Rights of Man,' is an entirely different thing to elective monarchy. So far from taking any ideas from Locke or from anybody else, it was the absurd expression of a mere John Bull in England, about the year 1773, that first caused me to turn my mind to systems of government. In speaking of the then king of Prussia, called the Great Frederick, he said, ' He is the right sort of man for a king, for he has a deal of the devil in him.' This set me to think if a system of gov ernment could not exist that did not require the devil, and I succeeded without any help from anybody. It is a great deal that may be learned from absurdity, and I expect to learn something from James Cheetham. When I do, I will let him know in the Public Advertiser. In the conclusion of the piece of mine, which Mr. Cheetham has vomited his spleen upon, I threw out some reproach 166 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. ¦against those who, instead of practising themselves in arms and artillery, that they might be prepared to defend New York, should it be attacked, were continually employing themselves on imaginary fortifications, and skulking behind projects of obstruction. As Mr. Cheetham supposed himself included in this description (and he thought right), he made, as he imagined, an effectual retort, but in doing this, as in everything else he does, he betrayed his want of knowledge, both as to the spirit and circumstances of the times he speaks of. ' I would not,' says Mr. Cheetham, ' charge with cowardice that gentleman [meaning me], who, in the "times that tried men's souls," stuck very correctly to his pen in a safe retreat, and never handled a musket offensively.' By this paragraph, Mr. Cheetham must have supposed, that when congress retreated from Philadelphia to Baltimore, in the ' times that tried men's souls,' that I retreated with them as secretary to the committee for foreign affairs. In the first place, the committee for foreign affairs did not exist at that time. In the next place, 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 afterward at Bergen; and when the time of the flying camp expired, and they went home, I went, to Fort Lee, and served as aid-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 con tinued 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. It therefore is not true, that I stuck to my pen in a safe retreat with congress from Philadelphia to Baltimore in the ' times that tried men's souls.' But if I had done so, I should not have published the cowardice James Cheetham has done. In speaking of the affair ofthe Driver sloop-of-war, at Charles ton, South Carolina, he said in his paper, if the Driver and her comrades should take into their heads to come here (New York), we must submit. What abominable cowardice, for a uian to have such a thought in his mind, that a city containing PAINE'S REPRIMAND OF CHEETHAM. 167 twenty thousand able-bodied men, numbers of them as stout in person as himself, should submit to a sloop-of-war containing about a hundred and fifty men. After this, Mr. Cheetham will take care how he attacks old revolutionary characters, whose undiscouraged intrepidity, in the ' times that tried men's souls,' made a home for him to come to. Thomas Paine. New Yokk, Aug. 21, 1807." " REPRIMAND TO JAMES CHEETHAM. If James Cheetham, editor of the ' New York American Citizen,' thinks to draw me into a controversy with him, he is greatly mistaken. In the first place, I hold him too cheap ; and his well-known character for abuse and blackguarding, renders any altercation with him dishonorable ; and beside this, it would take up too much of my time to put his blunders to-rights. He cannot write without blundering, neither can he write truth, of which I will give another instance. He quotes the following paragraph from the first part of ' Rights of Man,' and then grounds a false assertion upon it : — ' Every age and generation must be as free to act for itself, in all cases, as the ages and generations that 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 one generation a property in the generation that is to follow.' Mr. Cheetham having made this short quotation says : ' Mr. Paine here and there glances at the absurdity of hereditary government, but the passage just quoted is the only attempt at argument against it contained in the " Rights of Man." ' Is James Cheetham an idiot, or has the envy and malignity of his mind possessed him with a spirit of wilful lying 1 The short passage he has quoted (which is taken from the middle of a paragraph) is on the third, and in some editions on the fourth page of the first part of ' Rights of Man.' It contains a general principle, on which the arguments and statements against hereditary succession are founded in the progress of that work. If Mr. Cheetham had looked farther into the work, ' Rights of Man,' he would have come to a paragraph ending with the expression, ' hereditary succession cannot be established as a legal thing.' The work then goes on to say : — ' In order to arrive at a more perfect decision on this head (that is, that hereditary succession cannot be established as a legal thing), it is proper to consider the generation which undertakes to establish a family with hereditary powers, apart and separate from the generations which are to follow, and 168 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. also to consider the character in which the generation acts with respect to succeeding generations. ' The generation which selects a person and puts him at the head of its government 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 person so set up is not hereditary, but selected and appointed, and the generation which sets him up . do not live under an hereditary government, but under a gov ernment of its own choice and establishment. Were the generation which set him up, and the person so set up, to live for ever, it never could become hereditary succession ; and, of consequence, hereditary succession can only take place on the 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 character in which that generation acts with respect to the commencing 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 af fects 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 over the succeeding generation a new and different form of government from that under which itself lived. Itself, as already observed, lived not under an hereditary government, but under a government of its own choice and establishment, and it now attempts, by virtue > of a will and testament, which it has no authority to make, to take from the commencing generation, and all succeeding ones, , the right and free agency by which itself acted.' Now, without giving any farther extracts from the work, ' Rights of Man,' on the subject of hereditary succession, what is here given ought to cover James Cheetham with shame for the falsehood he has advanced. But as a man who has no sense of honor has no sense of shame, Mr. Cheetham will be able to read this with an unblushing front. Several writers before Locke had remarked on the absurdity of hereditary succession, but there they stopped. Buchanan, a Scots historian, who lived more than a hundred years before Locke, reproaches Malcolm II., king of Scotland, and his father, Kenethus, for making the crown of Scotland hereditary in his family, ' by which means,' says Buchanan, ' the kingdom must frequently be possessed by a child or a fool ; whereas before, the Scots used to make choice of that prince of the royal family that was best qualified to govern and protect his people.' But I know of no author, nor of any work, before 'Common Sense' and ' Rights of Man' appeared, that has attacked and exposed hereditary succession on the ground of illegality, which is the strongest of all grounds to attack it upon ; for if PAINE AND CHEETHAM. 169 the right to set it up do not exist — and that it does not is certain, because it is establishing a form of government, not for them selves, but for a future race of people — all discussion upon the subject ends at once. But James Cheetham has not sense enough to see this. He has got something into his head about Locke, and he keeps it there, for he does not give a single quotation from him to support the random assertion he makes concerning Locke. ' It is to Locke in particular,' says Cheetham, ' who wrote his incomparable essay on government in 1689, that we are almost wholly indebted for those* political lights which con ducted us to our revolution.' This is both libellous and false. The revolutionary contest began in opposition to the assumed rights of the British par liament ' to bind America in all cases whatsoever? and. there can be nothing in Locke, who wrote in 1689, that can have reference to such a case. The tax upon tea, which brought on hostilities, was an experiment on the part of the British government to enforce the practice of that assumed right, which was called the declaratory act. James Cheetham talks of times and circumstances he knows nothing of, for he did not come here till several years after the war ; yet in speaking ofthe revolution, he uses the words we, and us, and our revo lution. It is common in England, in ridiculing self-conceited importance, to say, ' What a long tail our cat has got !' The people of America, in conducting their revolution, learned nothing from Locke ; nor was his name, or his work, ever mentioned during the revolution, that I know of. The case America was in was a new one, without any former ex ample, and the people had to find their way as well as they could by the lights that arose among themselves, of which I can honestly and proudjy say, I did my part. Locke was employed by the first settlers of South Carolina to draw up a form of government for that province, but it was such an inconsistent aristocratical thing, that it was rejected. Perhaps Mr. Cheetham does not know of this, but he may know it if he will inquire. Mr. Cheetham hypocritically says, ' I advise Mr. Paine, as a friend, to write no more.' In return for this civility in words, I will inform him of something for his good, which is, that he has been going down hill in the opinion of the republicans for a long time past. Good principles will defend themselves ; but the abuse and scurrility in Cheetham's paper have given very general offence to his subscribers. Another complaint is, that his paper is not a newspaper. It does not give the news from Europe till it becomes old in every other paper. There are, perhaps, two causes for this : as a John Bull, he does not like the news 22 170 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. from Europe ; and as a dabbler in scribbling, he prefers filling his paper with his own stuff. v It is probable he will be called upon to explain on what ground of compromise (for it has the appearance of a com- promise)the intimacy betweenhim and the Anglo-Irish emissary Cullen, alias Carpenter, began and continued. He is now giving symptoms of becoming a successor of Cullen, as Cullen was the successor of Cobbett. As there is now a well-con ducted republican paper established in New York (the Public Advertiser), Mr. Cheetham cannot have the same range for his scurrility he had before. Thomas Paine September 5, 1807." " CHEETHAM AND HIS TORY PAPER.* Cheetham is frequently giving symptoms of being the suc cessor of Cullen, alias Carpenter, as Cullen was the successor of Cobbett, alias Porcupine. Like him, he is seeking to involve the United States in a quarrel with France for the benefit of England. In his paper of Tuesday, September 22, he has a long abusive piece against France, under the title of " Remarks" on the speech of the arch-chancellor of France to the French senate. This is a matter that Cheetham, as an adopted American citizen, has no business with ; and as a John Bull it is impertinence in him to come here to spit out his venom against France. But Cheetham cannot live without quarreling, nor write without abuse. He is a disgrace to the republicans, whose principle is to live in peace and friendship with all na tions, and not to interfere in the domestic concerns of any. Cheetham seems to regret that peace is made on the con tinent of Europe, and he shows his spleen against it by the following roundabout scurrilous paragraph. ' The people of France,' says he, ' now breathe the air of peace, under slavery, closer, more systematic, military, and universal [Cheetham knows nothing about it], than that with which they were overwhelmed previous to the beginning of the long continued calamity.' This is spoken exactly in the character of a stupid prejudiced John Bull, who, shut up in his island, and ignorant of the world, suppose all nations slaves but themselves ; whereas, those at a distance can see, that of all people enslaved by their own governments, none are so much so as the people of England. Had Cheetham stayed in England till this time, he would have had to shoulder a musket, and this would have been dreadful to him, for, as all * This piece was the cause of a duel between Cheetham and Frank. PAINE AND CHEETHAM. 171 bullies are cowards, the smell of gunpowder would be as horrid to Cheetham, as the scent of a skunk to other animals. The danger to which the city of New York was exposed, by the continual abuse of France in such papers as Cullen's, was, that the French government might be induced to consider the city of New York as a British colony, such as it was during the revolutionary war, and exclude her from the commerce of the continent of Europe, as she has excluded Britain. Cheet ham is following the footsteps of Cullen. The French nation, under all its changes of government, has always behaved in a civil and friendly manner to the United States. We have no cause of dispute with France. It was by the aid of France in men, money, and ships,* that the revolu tion and independence of the United States were so completely established, and it is scarcely sufferable that a prejudiced and surly-tempered John Bull should fix himself among us to abuse a friendly power. September 25, 1807." ' NOTE TO CHEETHAM. Mr. Cheetham : Unless you make a public apology for the abuse and falsehood in your paper of Tuesday, October 27, respecting me, I will prosecute you for lying. It is by your talent for abuse and falsehood, that you have brought so many prosecutions on your back. You cannot even state truth without running it to falsehood. There was matter enough against Morgan Lewis without going a syllable beyond the truth. Thomas Paine. October 27, 1807." " TO THE CITIZENS OF NEW YORK. In a letter from the president of the United States, of Oc tober 9, after his mentioning that he did not expect the Revenge back under a month from that date, adds, ' In the meantime, all the little circumstances coming to our knowledge are un favorable to our wishes for peace.' As this might be useful information to men in mercantile pursuits and speculations, and who had no guide to go by, whether to send out their vessels, or not, I mentioned it to such of my republican friends as called to see me ; and that the information, if so useful, might not be confined to one distinction of men only, I mentioned it also to Mr. Coleman, of the Evening Post, who came to me on account of a piece I * Six thousand French troops under General Rochambeau, and thirty-one sail. of-the-line under Admiral de Grasse, assisted at the capture of Cornwallis at Yorktown, Virginia, which put an end to the war. 172 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. sent to him concerning Cheetham's insulting message to Mr. Frank, of the Public Advertiser. How it got into the news papers I know not ; Mr. Coleman, I suppose, can give the best account of that. Cheetham then published a most abusive piece in his paper, and in his vulgar style of language said, " Paine has told a lie," and then insinuated as if I had forged the letter. It is by his propensity to blackguarding and lying, that he lias brought so many prosecutions on his back. He says he has nine. He will now have one more. If an unprincipled bully cannot be reformed, he can be punished. Thomas Paine. November 20, 1807." " THE EMISSARY CHEETHAM. Cheetham can now be considered in no other light than o British emissary, or successor to the impostor Cullen, alias Carpenter, whom Cheetham handed out in his newspaper, as a gentlemanly sort of a man. Cheetham finding the republicans are casting him off, is holding out signs to be employed as a British partisan. Cheetham, in his papers of December 29 and 30, has two long pieces about the embargo, which he labors to prove is not laid on inconsequence of any dispute with England, but in consequence of some imperious demands on the part of France. This John Bull is an idiot in diplomatic affairs. Cheetham says, ' Mr. Monroe's despatches, which were laid before congress, and which congress concluded did not au thorize an embargo, are dated London, October 10th. In the opinion of congress,' continues Cheetham, ' and I venture to say of Mr. Monroe, an immediate war with England was there fore by no means probable.' Cheetham has been so long in the habit of giving false in formation, that truth is to him like a foreign language. The president laid the despatches of Mr. Monroe, of October 10th, before congress ; but as they were in daily expectation of later information by the arrival of the Revenge schooner, and also of the personal arrival of Mr. Monroe, congress re ceived it as preparatory information, but came to no con clusion on their contents. Cheetham says, that the Leopard, which brought Mr. Mon roe's despatches, of October 10th, sailed from London on the 16th of October, and that the Revenge sailed from London for Cherbourg, on the same day, at which time, says Cheetham, there was no probability of an immediate war with England. In a letter I received from London, dated October 15th, and which I published in the Philadelphia Aurora, and in the New York Public Advertiser, the writer, in, speaking ofthe British ministry, says, ' Their cup of iniquity is nearly full, they only PAINE AND CHEETHAM- 173 want to go to war with America to fill it up ; and it is the opinion here [London] that that measure is resolved on. They will make no concessions unless it be to deceive.' The letter is dated one day before the Revenge sailed from London, and I suppose came by the Revenge ; yet Cheetham tells his readers there was then no probability of a war with America. Cheetham's information is never entitled to credit. When the Revenge sailed with the president's proclamation, and the instructions to Mr. Monroe, the writer of this knows she was ordered to come from London to France. It was ex pected she would be detained in the two countries about a month, and be back here about the 16th of November. Her coming from London to France, would give Mr. Monroe the opportunity (for foreign ministers do not correspond by post, but by express) of communicating to Mr. Armstrong, at Paris, the plans and projects ofthe British ministry. Soon after the arrival of the Revenge at Cherbourg, a French port on the channel, General Armstrong sent, circular letters to the American consuls in France, to hasten the departure of the American vessels as fast as possible. Several paragraphs in the English newspapers, and which have been copied into the American papers, stated, that the British ministry intended to seize American vessels coming to, or going from, any port in France. As Mr. Monroe would get knowledge of this, as well as the writer of the letter to Thomas Paine, of October 15th, he would communicate it to General Armstrong at Paris ; and this accounts for General Armstrong's circular letter, after the arrival of the Revenge schooner from London. If Britain put her threat in force, that of taking American vessels going to or coming from France, it is probable the French government will retaliate, and take American vessels going to or coming from England ; and this resolution on the part of France, had a natural tendency to prevent American vessels being taken, because Britain, by setting the example, will suffer more by it than France. The British blockading decree, that of seizing neutral ves sels going to or from France, was to have been published on the 14th of November, but the news from London of the 14th by the Jane, is silent on the subject. The apprehension of retaliation has, most probably, stopped the British ministry in their career. Jan. 7, 1808." In another letter, dated August 25, 1808 (and Mr. Paine died, as we have seen, in 1809), he thus expresses himself of Cheetham, that " in religion he was a hypocrite, and in politics a John Bull," said in reference to Cheetham's abuse of Bonaparte and the French. Mr. Paine adds in the same 174 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. letter : " The ward meetings have done exceedingly right in posting Cheetham. The people in the country and abroad will now know that he does not belong to the popular repub lican party, and that he is an English impostor." Whether these letters derive some asperity from party pol- tics or not, is a matter of no consequence to our subject. The statement of facts is no doubt correct, and the feelings of Cheetham toward Paine must be anything but friendly. When, therefore, a party hack, as Cheetham doubtless was, disappointed and a renegade, with talents, as he certainly pos sessed, but embittered in feelings and regardless of truth, as all circumstances contribute to show, what could be expected from such a man, but just what he produced — a life of Paine abounding in bold falsehoods, cunningly contrived, and ad dressed to a people who wished to be deceived \ The com pliment paid Cheetham by Judge Hoffman, in extenuation of heavy damages, when convicted by the clearest evidence of gross slander in the case of Madame Bonneville, viz, that " he had produced a work useful to religion," explains the position of Cheetham, his life of Paine, and the public. The politicians succumbed to the religious part of the community, and both sacrificed the fame of Paine to their supposed inter est. The religious because they thought they did God service, and hypocrites and politicians because they imagined an injury from the association of the name of Paine with theirs. Indi viduals did lift up their voices in defence of the memory of Paine, but as these had neither the press nor public sympathy, nor public opinion, nor fashion, on their side, their voices were not heard, and falsehood triumphed for a time ; not, however, without witnesses, whose testimony was recorded from time to time, which might be accumulated and presented at a proper season, a time to which JoelBarlowlooked forward. That time we believe has now arrived, and Judge Hoffman, were he now alive, dare not repeat his infamous sentiment, that " Cheetham had written a book useful to religion." The very sentiment is now scoffed by the religious people of the age, who are so far advanced in civilization as to scorn a religion that needs falsehood for its support. In the history of nations there are periods of fanaticism, but a steady prog- MAEY HINSDALE'S FALSEHOODS. 175 ress in liberality. Cromwell's time was a period of fanati cism, succeeded indeed by licentiousness ; and after the French revolution a re-action took place, and fanaticism pre vailed, first in England, and then on this side the Atlantic ; and in the darkness of which Cheetham slipped in his life of Paine. But we yet believe that justice will be done to the memory of the man who caused^he declaration of inde pendence, showed how it could be maintained, and was the light of the republic in the "times which tried men's souls," (Paine). And we farther believe that this age is sufficiently intelligent to investigate the merits of one of the men of the revolution, and sufficiently honest to do his memory justice. The second part of Mr. Paine's prophecy was not suffered to want fulfilment. In vain did his friends witness the sin cerity of his belief, his firmness and calmness at the last moment ; in vain did Dr. Manley try to extort from him a recantation, and in vain did clerical gentlemen assail him when infirm in body. In vain did Mr, Jarvis, Colonel Daniel Pelton, and our living friend Mr. Haskins, and the respected Willet Hicks, receive his last declaration in presence of death; in vain was all this. A few zealous pious hypocrites had determined on a conversion, or on a conviction and Te- morse, and therefore a woman was made a tool qf to propa gate such charges ; and one Charles Collins, now alive, was found base enough to publish her foolish tales, not avowed till some years after the death of Mr. Paine ; such a circum stance however is easily jumped over, when that is revealed which is wanted. This subject has however been treated on in the preface to the Boston edition of Mr. Paine's theologi cal works, written by our friend Mr. John Fellows, now alive, and frequently alluded to in this work, from which we shall therefore extract, as we have examined into it, and, with one exception, are satisfied with the correctness of the statement. " I cannot relinquish this subject without taking notice of one of the most vile and wicked stories that was ever engen dered in the fruitful imagination of depraved mortals. It was fabricated by a woman, named Mary Hinsdale, and published by one Charles Collins, at New York, or rather, it is probable that this work was the joint production of Collins, and some 176 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. - other fanatics, and that they induced this stupid, ignorant woman to stand sponsor for it. It states, in substance, that Thomas Paine, in his last ill ness, was in the most pitiable condition for want of the mere necessaries of life ; and that the neighbors, out of sheer com passion, contributed their' aid to supply him with sustenance : that he had become converted to Christianity, and lamented that all his religious works had not been burnt: that Mrs. Bonneville was in the utmost distress for having abandoned her religion, as she (M. H.) said, for that of Mr. Paine, which he now told her would not answer the purpose, &c. In all this rodomontade there is not a single, solitary ray of truth to give it a colorable pretext. It is humiliating to be under the necessity of exposing such contemptible nonsense. Collins, if he was not the author, was assured of its falsity. But being full of the spirit of fanaticism and intolerance, and believing, no doubt, that the end sanctified the means, he continued to circulate the pious fraud, and the clergy exultingly retailed it from the pulpit. Nothing but religious phrensy could have in duced Collins, after being warned of the crime he was com mitting, to persist in publishing this abominable trash.* He had the hardihood even to apply to William Cobbett for the purpose of inducing him to insert it in the life of Thomas Paine, which Mr. Cobbett then contemplated to write. For which he re ceived due chastisement from the pen of that distinguished writer, in a number of his Register. Mr. Cobbett subse quently having taken great pains to investigate the falsity of this story, exposed and refuted it in the most ample manner This I have not seen, nor is the Register, containing the article alluded to, before me. Mrs. Bonneville- was absent in France at the time of its first appearance in New York, and when shown to her on her return to America, although her feelings were highly agitated at the baseness of the fabrication, she would not permit her name to appear in print in competition with that of Mary Hinsdale. No notice, therefore, has been taken of it, excepting by Mr. Cobbett. Indeed, it was considered by the friends of Mr. Paine generally to be too contemptible to controvert. But as many pious people continue to believe, or pretend to believe in this stupid story, it was thought proper lo say a few words upon it in this publication. The facts are as follow : Mary Hinsdale was hired at service in the family of Mr. Willet Hicks, residing at Greenwich * Since writing the above, it ha? been suggested to me, by a gentleman who knows him, that this base act of Collins is attributable more to his actual stupid ity than to either his fanaticism or malice. That he is too weak to be aware of the sin of slander ; and has no doubt, in this case, been made use of, as a mere puppet, by others behind the scene, more knowing and more wicked than him self? If this be the fact, it is charity to state it to the public, as his case will tend to excite pity, and depreciate, in some measure, the enormity of his guilt in this transaction. STATEMENT OF NIXON AND FELTON. 177 village, in the neighborhood of Mr. Paine, who occasionally sent some little delicacies to him in the time of his sickness, as every good neighbor would do ; and this woman was the bearer. Here is the whole foundation upon which the dis torted imagination of Mary Hinsdale, or some one for her, has raised this diabolical fiction. Mr. Hicks was in the habit of seeing Mr. Paine frequently, and must have known if such a wonderful -revolution had taken place in his mind, as is stated, and lie does not hesitate to say, that the whole account is a pious fraud. Mr. Hicks is a respectable merchant at New York, and any one there, who has any doubts on the subject, by calling on him will be satisfied. Even James Cheetham, the libeller of Mr. Paine, acknowledges that he died in the re ligious faith which he had inculcated in his writings. Which is also attested by his physician, Dr. Manley, and all those who visited him in his last illness. But to put this matter beyond all cavil, I shall add the certificate of two old and highly respectable citizens', Thomas Nixon of New York, and Captain Daniel Pelton of New Rochelle. It was addressed to William Cobbett, under an expectation that he was about to write the life of Thomas Paine, and left with a friend to be handed to him ; but as the undertaking was relinquished, it was never delivered, and is now in my possession, inthe hand writing of the signers ; and is as follows : — TO MR. WILLIAM COBBETT. Sir : Having been informed that you have a design to write a history of the life and writings of Thomas Paine, if you have been furnished with materials in respect to his religious opinions, or rather of his recantation of his former opinions before his death, all you have heard of his recanting is false. Being aware that such reports would be raised after his death by fanatics which infested his house at the time it was ex pected he would die, we, the subscribers, intimate acquaint ances of Thomas Paine, since the year 1776, went to his house — he was sitting up in a chair, and apparently in the full vigor and use of all his mental faculties. We interrogated him on his religious opinions, and if he had changed his mind or repented of anything he had said or wrote on that, subject. He answered, 'not at all,' and appeared rather offended at our supposition that any change should take place in his mind. We took down in writing the questions put to him, and his answers thereto, before a number of persons then in his room, among whom were his doctor, Mrs. Bonneville, &c. This paper is mislaid and cannot be found at present, but the above is the substance, which can be attested by many living wit nesses. Thomas Nixon. Daniel Felton. New Yobk April 24, 1818." 23 178 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. We had resolved on so much of the manuscript before we saw Mr. Willet Hicks, before mentioned ; and if it were not a rule in evidence to obtain the best, in the most direct manner, we should not have sought an interview, for we had supposed that those who had gone before us had obtained all that was desirable from that gentleman ; but, to our surprise, on seeing Mr. Hicks, as a duty which we owed the public, we learned that Mary Hinsdale never saw Paine to Mr. Hicks's knowledge ; that the fact of his sending some delicacy from his table as a compliment occurred but a very few times, and that he always commissioned his daughters on this errand of kindness, and he designated Mrs. Cheeseman, then a little girl, but now the wife of one of our celebrated physicians, as the daughter especially engaged, and that she states that Mary Hinsdale once wished to go with her, but was refused. So that on the testimony of Mr. Willet Hicks, the whole story of confession of Paine to such a woman, remorse, wretchedness, despair, and conversion, rests on Mary Hinsdale once wishing to go with Mr; Hicks's daughter to Mr. Paine's. The secret of such a fabrication on such a foundation is easily explained. On farther conversation with Mr. Hicks, he informed us, that when it was known that he visited Mr. Paine daily, many, of the friends (to which sect he belonged, and of which he was a preacher), thought he would make some religious impres sion on Mr. Paine, and that after his death he was extremely annoyed at numbers of them pressing him to say something detrimental of Paine, or that he was converted. The old gentleman remarked to us : " You can have no idea of the anxiety of our people on this subject ; I was beset by them, both here and in England, where I soon after went on a journey." He remarked, they wished to convict Mr. Paine of calling on Jesus ; they would say, he observed, " Didst thee never hear hear him call on Christ 1" On reference to our notes, which we took for accuracy, we find, Mr. Hicks even declared : " You cannot conceive what a deal of trouble I had, and as for money, I could have had any sums if I would have said anything against Thomas Paine, or if I would even have consented to remain silent. They informed me that the doctor was willing to say something that would satisfy them if I would engage to WILLET HICKS' STATEMENT. 179 be silent only; but," remarked Mr. Hicks to us, "they observed, he (the doctor) knows the standing of Willet Hicks, and that he knew all about Paine, and if he (Mr. Hicks) should contradict what I say, he would destroy my testimony." Such is the simple testimony recently obtained of this gentle man, who is yet alive, and was, when we saw him, atthe resi dence of his son-in-law, Dr. Cheeseman. Mr. Hicks, in con clusion, remarked of Mr. Paine, that " he was a good man, an honest man," and with great indignation he remarked, " he was not a man to talk with Mary Hinsdale." Here then is the key to Mary Hinsdale's fabrication ; the intense feeling of a portion of the friends on the subject of Mr. Paine's works. We say a portion ; for, though Mr. Hicks uses the expression, " he was beset with them, both here and in England," a por tion could beset him. Mr. Hicks was himself a. friend, a pious friend, and a preacher, and an honorable man of high stand ing, and such as he was and is, such we have no doubt were and are many. Besides, we can readily conceive that this intense feeling was chiefly among the more orthodox, as some of these in every sect have always felt the most. From the multitude who raised the cry of Tom Paine, we need not mi nutely examine the question as to numbers in this portion of the friends ; we can readily believe there would be enough to effect the object. If, too, Mr. Hicks, who was rich, could have had any sum, as he expresses himself, then Mary Hins dale could have had any sum for her invention. ' We do not know that she did ; but we can readily believe that she would not want a Charles Collins, or any one else, to assist her in getting out such a work ; and that those who wished to be lieve would not be at much trouble to inquire after the credi bility of the evidence. Will our readers now turn to page 156, where we have inserted Mr. Amasa Woodsworth's testimony, and observe in what language he speaks of Dr. Manley, yet alive, and enjoying a post of honor. Now we do not know that Mr. Hicks referred to Dr. Manley, when he says that the friends informed him the doctor was willing to say something,' he might have meant some other doctor ; we merely give his words as he gave them to us. But there is a curious coinci dence in these two witnesses, both respectable, but who have 180 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. moved in very different spheres, and who, perhaps, have never seen each other since the death of Paine. Their evidence was taken, the one near Boston, two years ago, the other two months ago, in New York, and they both infer a disposition to cheat the public by those who were professionally about Mr. Paine on his death-bed. Dr. Manley has published a letter, and has thus thrown himself on the public, and we have a right to examine that letter. He there, indeed, gives you the last words of Paine, " I have no wish to helieve on that sub ject." But what would he have said had Willet Hicks consented to silence, and if Amasa Woodsworth had not been present. We again remark that we do not know that Mr. Hicks referred to Dr. Manley, but we do know that Dr. Man- ley published a pamphlet, in which he endeavors to insinuate, that in spite of Mr. Paine's declaration, that he did conceal his real sentiments ; and this he infers from looks and exclama tions which he alone saw and heard. And now let us remind our readers that Amasa Woodsworth says, he was always there with Dr. Manley ; yet Amasa Woodsworth saw none of these expression, and heard no exclamations indicating mental agony, but such expressions as resulted from bodily pain, and that from a cause explicitly given, viz, " the skin in some parts being removed from long lying." The judge, Hoffman, who tried Cheetham on the libel against Madame Bonneville, complimented Mr. Cheetham for writing a very useful book in favor of religion, although it did contain falsehoods and libel ; and in the same way the doctor may think his published letter may be useful to hundreds of thousands, and he no doubt did, and perhaps does think so ; and no doubt some persons will regret that Mr. Willet Hicks stood in the way of some more dignified person than Mary Hinsdale, belying Mr. Paine on his death-bed. The whole, however, is explained by the " intense feelings of a portion of the friends, who could beset Mr. Hicks in the manner they did, 'Didst ;thee never hear him call on Christ V " or who could intimate a wish that he would say that Paine recanted, or, at least, that he would promise silence, while others should testify falsely ; and who could intimate reward for such perfidy. " As for money I could have had any sum," is the language of Mr. Hicks toward the portion cobbett's statement. 181 of "friends" that beset him. Now if this feeling could exist among the friends, carried out as we have seen it in the case of Mary Hinsdale, to what extent must it have existed in otlier classes, more superstitious, less educated, less accustomed to truth and more to passion, as the devoutly pious among every class, who believe their feelings the effects of divine influ ence, and who are consequently easily misled by these feel ings. And when we consider that all this pious feeling was backed by an interested class of clergy, and by corrupt poli ticians, who wished the votes ofthe pious, can we be surprised at the calumny under which he has lain, and that even his friends should have been deceived on some points, from the incessant clamor and apparent universality of the accusations. We shall now furnish Mr. W. Cobbett's account of this transaction of Mr. Collins and Mary Hinsdale, on which, per haps, we have thrown some light : — " CURIOUS HISTORY OF A CALUMNY ON PAINE. It is a part of the business of a press, sold to the cause of corruption, to calumniate those, dead or alive, who have most effectually labored against that cause; and, as Paine was the most powerful and effectual of those laborers, so to calumni ate him has been an object of their peculiar attention and care. Among other things said" against this famous man, is, that he recanted before he died ; and that in his last illness, he discov ered horrible fears of death. This is, to be sure, a very good answer to what these same persons say about his hardened in fidelity. But, it is a pure, unadulterated falsehood. This falsehood, which I shall presently trace to its origin (the heart of a profound hypocrite), was cried about the streets of Liver pool, when I landed there in November last. Thence it found its way to the grand receptacle and distributor of falsehood and calumny, the London press, which has sent it all over this kingdom. One country paper, however, pre-eminent in all that is foul and mean, affects to possess original matter and authentic information on the subject ; and, indeed, it pledges itself for the character of the gentleman from whom it says it has received the pretended authentic account. The country paper I allude to, is the Norwich Mercury, printed and pub lished by one Burks. The Norwich Mercury did not imagine that any one would take the pains~ to expose this tissue of falsehoods. In the first place, why does he not name his ' gentleman' of such excel lent character 1 How these informers skulk ! Mr. Burks can 182 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. pledge himself for the character of the " gentleman" informer ; but, where are we to get a pledge for the character of Mr. Burks, who, if we are to judge from this act of his, stands in need of very good sponsors. Let us look, a little, at the internal evidence of the falsehood of this story. Mr. Paine possessed, at his death, an unen cumbered estate of two hundred and fifty acres of. land, not more than twenty miles from JVew York. He possessed a con siderable sum beside. These he left by will. Will any one believe, that he was, on his dying-bed, in the want of proper nourishment, and that he was in a deplorable state as to apart ments and necessaries 1 Then, was it likely, that when a neighbor's maid-servant went to carry him a little present of sweetmeats, or the like, that he would begin a conversation on theology with her ? And is it not monstrous to suppose, that he would call himself the devil's agent to her, and not leave behind him any recantation at all, though he had such ample time for doing it, and though this confidant was so ready to receive it and to take care of it ? The story is false upon the face of it : and nothing but a simpleton, or something a great deal worse, would have given it circulation and affected to believe it to be true. I happen to know the origin of this story : and I possess the real, original document, whence have proceeded the divers editions ofthe falsehood, of the very invention of which I was, perhaps, myself, the innocent cause ! About two years ago, I, being then on Long Island, published my intention of writing an account of the life, labors, and death of Paine. Soon after this, a quaker at New York, named Charles Collins, made many applications for an interview with me, which at last he obtained. I found that his object was to persuade me that Paine had recanted. I laughed at him, and sent him away. But he returned again and again to the charge. He wanted me to promise that I would say that ' it was said,' that Paine had recanted. ' No,' said I ; ' but I will say that you say it, and that you tell a lie, unless yon prove the truth of what you say ; and if you do that, I shall gladly insert the fact.' This posed ' friend Charley,' whom I suspected to be a most consummate hypocrite. He had a sodden face, a simper, and manoeuvred his features, precisely like the most perfidious wretch that I have known, or ever read or heard of. He was precisely the reverse of my honest, open, and sincere quaker friends, the Pauls of Pennsylvania. Friend Charley plied me with remonstrances and reasonings, but I always an swered him. ' Give me proof ; name persons ; state times ; state precise words, ox I denounce you as a ' liar.' Thus put to his trumps, friend Charley resorted to the aid of a person of his own stamp ; and, at last, he brought me a paper, con taining matter, of which the above statement of Mr. Burks is COBBETT'S STATEMENT. 183 a garbled edition ! This paper, very cautiously and craftily drawn up, contained only the initials of names. This would not do. I made him, at last, put down the full name and the address of the informer, 'Mary Hinsdale, No. 10 Anthony street, New York.' I got this from friend Charley some time about June last ; and had no opportunity of visiting the party till late in October, just before I sailed. The informer was a quaker woman, who, at- the time of Mr. Paine's last illness, was a servant in the family of Mr. Willet Hicks, an eminent merchant, a man of excellent character, a quaker, and even, I believe, a quaker preacher. Mr. Hicks, a kind and liberal and rich man, visited Mr. Paine in his illness, and, from his house, which was near that of Mr. Paine, little nice things (as is the practice in America) were sometimes sent to him ; of which this servant, friend Mary, was the bearer ; and this was the way in which the lying cant got into the room of Mr. Paine. To 'friend Mary,' therefore, I went on the twenty-sixth of October last, with friend Charley's paper in my pocket. I found her in a lodging in a back-room up one pair of stairs. I knew that I had no common cunning to set my wit against. I began with all the art that I was master of. I had got a pro digiously broad-brimmed hat on. I patted a little child that she had sitting beside her; I called her friend ; and played all the awkward tricks of an undisciplined wheedler. But I was compelled to come quickly to business. She asked, ' What's thy name, friend V and the moment I said William Cobbett, up went her mouth as tight as a purse ! Sack-making appeared to be her occupation ; and that I might not extract through her eyes that which she was resolved I should not get out of her mouth, she went and took up a sack and began to sew ; and not another look or glance could I get from her. However, I took out my paper, read it, and stopping at sev eral points, asked her if it was true. Talk ofthe Jesuits, in deed ! The whole tribe of Loyola, who had shaken so many kingdoms to their base, never possessed a millionth part of the cunning of this drab-colored little woman, whose face simplicity and innocence seemed to have chosen as the place of their triumph! She shuffled; she evaded ; she equivocated ; she warded off.; she affected not to understand me, not to understand the paper, not to remember : and all this with so much seeming simplicity and single-heartedness, and in a voice so mild, so soft, and so sweet, that if the devil had been sitting where I was, he would certainly have jumped up and hugged her to his bosom. The result was : that it was so long ago, that she could not speak positively to any part of the matter : that she would not say that any part of the paper was true : that she had never- seen the paper ; and that she had never given ' friend Charley' 184 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. (for so she called him) authority to say any thing about the matter in her name. I pushed heT closely upon the subject of the ' unhappy French female.' Asked her whether she should knoiu her again. — ' Oh, no ! friend ; I tell thee that I have no recollection of any person or thing that I saw at Thomas Paine's house.' The truth is, that the cunning little thing knew that the French lady was at hand ; and that detection was easy, if she had said that she should know her upon sight ! I had now nothing to do but to bring friend Charley's nose to the grindstone. But Charley, who is a grocer, living in Cherry street, near Pearl street, though so pious a man, and doubtless in great haste to get to everlasting bliss, had moved out of the city foy fear of the fever, not liking, apparently, to go off to the next world in a yellow skin. And thus he escaped me, who sailed from New York in four days afterward : or Charley should have found, that there was something else on this side the grave, pretty nearly as troublesome and as dread ful as the yellow fever. This is, I think, a pretty good instance of the length to which hypocrisy will go. The whole, as far as relates to re cantation, and to the ' unhappy French female' is a lie from the beginning to the end. Mr. Paine declares in his last will, that he retains all his publicly expressed opinions as to religion. His executors, and many other gentlemen of undoubted veracity, had the same declaration from his dying lips. Mr. Willet Hicks visited him till nearly the last. This gentleman says, that there was no change of opinion intimated to him : and will any man believe that Paine would have withheld from Mr. Hicks, that which he was so forward to communicate to Mr. Hicks' servant-girl ? Observe, reader, that in this tissue of falsehoods, is included a most foul and venomous slander on a woman of virtue and of spotless honor. But hypocrites will stick at nothing. Calumny is their weapon, and a. base press is the hand to wield it. Mr. Bourke, of Norwich, will not insert this article, nor will he acknowledge his error. He knows that the calumny which he has circulated, has done what he intended it to do ; and he and the ' gentleman' for whose character he pledges himself, will wholly disregard good men's contempt, so long as it does not diminish their gains. This is not at all a question of religion. It is a question of moral tfuth. Whether Mr. Paine's opinions were correct or erroneous, has nothing to do with this matter. William Cobbett. We have not yet done with this subject. By a curious coincidence we have become acquainted with a Mr. J. W. MARY HINSDALE AND C. COLLINS. 185 Lockwood, of New York. This gentleman had a sister, a mem ber ofthe friends, who died about two-and-twenty years ago. On her death, Mary Hinsdale, who was known to the family, stated to them that she should come to the funeral, for that she had met Mary Lockwood a short' time before, her death; and that she (Mary Lockwood) had said to her : " Mary[ Hins dale], I do not expect to live long ; my views are changed ; I wish thee to come to my funeral, and make this declaration to my friends then assembled," and that consequently she should come. The relatives of the deceased, who were Hicksite* quakers, ox friends, knew the falseness of this statement. Those who had sat by her bed-side, and heard her continued and last declarations on religious subjects (for she was em phatically a religious young woman), knew that no change had taken place. >Her brother, our informant, had heard her express her opinions with great satisfaction. He and her other relatives therefore said so to Mary Hinsdale, but invited her to attend the funeral. Mary Hinsdale did not attend. The falsehood was notorious and occasioned a good deal of loud conversation ; and this Mr. Lockwood supposes deterred this orthodox friend from appearing among them.' We recently published the above account in the Beacon, and referred to Mr. Cobbett's account, which we had formerly published. On this publication Mr. Collins, frequently named above, called on us, not to complain of our remarks, but to assure us that his conscience could not suffer the Beacon to be left at his house, to be forwarded to a friend in the West Indies, as formerly. To this we made no objection ; but find ing Mr. C. Collins in our house, and knowing the importance of his testimony, we at once asked him what induced him to publish the account of Mary Hinsdale. He assured us he then thought it true. He believed that she had seen Mr. Paine, and that Mr. Paine might confess to her, a girl, when he would not to Willet Hicks. He knew that many of their most respected friends did not believe the account. He knew that Mr. W. Hicks did not, whom he highly respected ; but * Followers df Elias Hicks, not orthodox, or believers in the common scheme of salvation by the atonement. 24 186 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. yet he thought it might be true. We asked Mr. C. Collins what- he thought of the character of Mary Hinsdale now % He replied, that some of our friends believe she indulges in opi ates, and do not give her credit for truth. We asked, and do youbelievethey arejustifiedintheiropinionsl He replied, "0 yes, I believe they speak the truth" (Mr. Lockwood had given us the same opinion), but C, added "This does not affect her testimony when a young woman ; she might then have spoken the truth." Such is the testimony of Charles Collins, in relation to Mary Hinsdale, whom he assisted in publishing her fabrica tion of Mr. Paine's death-bed scenes, based on hex wish to see Mr. Paine, and which fabrication has been echoed from pulpit to pulpit, and from press to press, in this country and England, and sanctioned by thousands of pious people who wished the account true. There is one more subject to which our attention has been drawn, and to which Cheetham refers, Mr. Paine's alleged in gratitude to Mr. Monroe. We have seen in the body of this work that Mr. Monroe took upon himself to declare Mr. Paine a citizen of the United States, and to presume that Washing ton, then president, must feel an interest in him. It is evident that Mr. Monroe did all he could in the absence of direct in structions, from his government about Mr. Paine, which he does not appear to have possessed. And we have seen, when Mr. Paine finally left the prison, that he went by invita tion, to Mr. Monroe's house, and that he remained there above a year. We hear nothing of any engagement, and we cannot conceive that Mr. Monroe,as plenipotentiary at Paris,would take boarders, or that Mr. Paine would stay at his house uninvited, or one moment beyond an apparent welcome. Mr. Paine's company before, and at this time, was sought by many as an honor. He afterward resided with Mr. Bonneville, either with or without an engagement for board ; but in that case we know, when Bonneville was ruined by Bonaparte, for pub lishing a republican paper, that Mr. Paine, finding on his return here the means of hospitality, generously invited the whole family to share his comforts. We cannot, therefore, perceive in Mr. Paine a natural ingratitude. Cheetham states, and others have repeated it, that Mr. Monroe afterward be- MR. MONROE. 187 came poor, and applied to Mr. Paine, whom he said was then rich, to pay for his board, while residing with the consul at Paris, and that Mr. Paine took no notice of the demand, and was therefore ungrateful. If this really occurred, and. we think it likely, all we can say is that Mr. Monroe at this period must have become penurious. He was at that time looking forward to the presidency, which he afterward obtained; and if, while in this situation, he made a demand as a boarding- house keeper, while acting as minister in France, and that to a distinguished individual whom he had invited to his house, and with whom he had made no such engagement; for none is even pretended, he must have forgotten the dignity of an Amer ican consul in France, as well as a presumptive successor to the presidency. We are perfectly aware that men, when they be come old, frequently become parsimonious ; Mr. Paine did, in part; and that others, who are both just and generous, on partic ular occasions, are constitutionally parsimonious. This was the case with Franklin. We have therefore made some inquiry as to Mr. Monroe, and we find that he was not unmindful of his interest. While acting as minister at Paris, Mr. Jefferson, then president, gave him a commission to transact some business in a neighboring country, intending an appropriation to Mr. Monroe for this service, but to save to the country the outfit of an especial minister or consul, which we believe is about nine thousand dollars. This outfit Mr. Monroe, we find, afterward claimed and recovered, and hence we think it possible that he might have made the charge upon Mr. Paine before stated ; but unless Mr. Paine had agreed to such a charge, which does not appear from Mr. Monroe's alleged letter, we think the affair rather to4;he discredit ofthe latter than to Mr. Paine; and if Mr. Paine treated the subject in the manner alleged, he probably considered as we do, that the demand never ought to have been made. We shall now conclude with the will of Mr. Paine. This falsifies at once, one part of Mary Hinsdale's relation, viz, Mr. Paine's poverty ; and one part being shown to be false we can have no belief in the rest, which depends on the same authority. The fact is, she is now living, and is known as a silly lying woman, disgraced in the eyes of some of her former religious connexions for this very crime. 188 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. THE WILL OF MR. THOMAS PAINE. " The People ofthe 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. 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, ofthe state of New York, author of the work entitled ' Common Sense,' written in Philadelphia, in 1775, and published in that city {he 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 ofthe revolu tionary war — the last is on the peace ; author also of the ' Rights of Man,' parts the first and second, written and pub lished in London, in 1791 and '92 ; 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 ofthe passages in the New Testament quoted from the Old, and called prophesies concerning Jesus Christ,' and showing there are no prophecies of any such per son ; author also of several other works not here enumerated, 'Dissertations on the first. Principles of Government,' — 'De cline and Fall of the English System of Finance' — ' Agrarian Justice,' &c, &c, 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 elsewhere at the time of my decease, paying thereout the expenses of my funeral, in trust as to the said shares, moveables, and money, for Margaret WILL OF MR. PAJNE. 189 Brazier Bonneville, wife of Nicholas Bonneville, of. Paris, for her own sole and separate use, and at her own disposal, not withstanding her coverture. As to my farm in New Rochelle, I give, devise, and bequeath the same to my said executors, WalterMorton and Thomas Addis Emmet, and to the survivor of them, his heirs and assigns for ever, in trust, nevertheless, to sell and dispose ofthe north side thereof, now in the occu pation of Andrew A. Dean, beginning at the west end of the orchard and running in a line with the kind 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 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 ofElihu Palmer, late of New York, to be paid out of the money arising from said sale, andl.give the remainder of the money arising from that sale, one half thereof to Clio Rickman, of High or Upper Mary-la-bone street, London, and the other half to Nicholas Bonneville, of Paris, husband of Margaret B. Bonneville aforesaid: and as to the south part of the said farm, containing upward of one hundred acres, in trust, to rent out the same or otherwise put it to profit, as shall be found most advisable, and to pay the rents and profits thereof to the said Margaret B. Bonneville, in trust for her children, Benjamin Bonneville and Thomas Bonneville, their education and maintenance, 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 fiirfher trust to convey the same to the said children share and share alike in fee simple. But if it shall be thought advisable by my executors and ex ecutrix, 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 ofthe 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 al ready 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 ad mit a person to be buried in their burying-ground, who does not belong to their society, but if they do or will admit me, I 190 LIFE OF THOMAS TAINE. 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 where I am to be bu ried to be a square of twelve feet, to be enclosed with rows of trees, and a stone or 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 Phoenix Insurance company, and Thomas Addis Emmet, counsellor-at-law, late of Ireland, and Margaret B. Bonneville, executors and executrix to this my last will and testament, requesting them the said WalterMorton and Thomas Addis Emmet, that they will give what assistance they con veniently 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 eigh teenth 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, 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 'pub lished and declared' first interlined. William Keese, James Angevine, Cornelius Ryder." MONUMENT TO THOMAS PAINE. On the fourth of July, 1837, we visited the tomb, or place of burial, of Thomas Paine, near New Rochelle, and in the Beacon of July 15, 1837, thus described it (see Beacon, Vol. I. page 331) :— " The tomb is close by the road side, but over a stone fence, and now consists of a low, broken, rough, dry stone wall, of oblong shape, of about eight by four feet, with loose stones, grass, and earth, in the centre ; the upright slab, simply mark ed with ' THOMAS PAINE, AUTHOR OF COMMON SENSE,' no longer exists. After Cobbett violated the grave, and re- MONUMENT TO PAINE. 191 moved the bones from the remains of Mr. Paine, the headstone was-broken, and pieces successively removed by different vis iters : one Uvrge fragment was preserved by a lady in an op posite cottage, in which Mr. Paine trad sometimes boarded, and in which Mr. and Madame Bonneville afterward boarded ; but this fragment gradually suffered diminution, as successive visiters begged a piece of what they could no longer steal. To preserve the last remnant, this lady has had it plastered up in a wall. We discovered /that the lady mentioned, the ' nearest neighbor to the tomb, would be favorable to the repair of the tomb, and we learned that she believed that such repairs would be popular among the neighbors ; and on this under standing, in which we have not been deceived, we determined to commence a subscription to repair the tomb, or put up a monument ; and before we left the village we obtained from Mr. James, who had then marble saw-mills in New Rochelle, a promise to be at the expense of putting up a heavy block of marble, instead of a head-stone, if purchased by subscription ; subsequently Mr. Frazee, an eminent architect, offered in con junction with some friends to give the work on a monument, if the materials were procured, and other expenses paid. This has now been accomplished, and paid for. The monument stands on the Paine farm, at the head ofthe grave, on twenty feet square, enclosed by a substantial wall on three sides, and an iron railing in front (not yet up, March 1841). It is built of the marble of the country, and is valued at about thirteen hundred dollars. The accompanying cut is a faint represent ation, and the following extract from a letter from the archi tect will best describe the monument and the feelings of the neighborhood, which is two miles from the village of New Rochelle."— G. V. "New York, Nov. 12, 1839- To Mr. Vale : WiU you please to inform our friends that the monument to Thomas Paine is erected 1 On Friday last I took with me a rigger and went up to the quarries,, and on that day we got the marble to the spot with the machinery and other apparatus necessary to the work. — At an early hour on Saturday morn ing, we mustered all hands at the grave, and commenced the erection ofthe monument in good earnest, and in good spirits. Everything worked well, and at three o'clock, P. M., the crown piece was on, and the erection complete.— No person was hurt, nor any part of the work broken or injured.— The peo ple up there say it is a chaste and beautiful structure. Its purely Grecian character and simplicity of form, render its general effect truly impressive and interesting.— The summit is twelve and a half feet above the level of the road at that point. 192 LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE. Paine's monument. l was much pleased to find that among the number of fifty persons and more, that were assembled to witness our labors, not an unkind look was seen, nor an unfriendly expression heard, during the time. All looked and spake as though their hearts were glad at seeing such marked regard — such noble and lasting honor paid to the great patriot of our revolution arid the defender of the rights of man. I have a little trimming to do yet on the head, which will occupy me the best part of a day ; this I will endeavor to ac complish this week when the monument will be completed. Very truly yours, JOHN FRAZEE." NoTE.^The manuscript ofthe life of Mr. Paine, for want of surplus funds, lay by us for four years, and in the interim some changes have necessarily taken place, which we believe we have noticed in the body of the work ; but aware of this delay (not'unfavorable to accuracy) and willing to secure the living testi mony then in being, and which, from the age of some of the parties, was of un certain tenure, we published in the Beacon from time to time, such evidences as we procured, with all the circumstances, and thus secured, while living, the sanc tion of some who have since died. — G. V. APPENDIX TO THE LIFE OF THOMAS PAINE, BY G. VALE. THOMAS PAINE'S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. INTRODUCTION. In introducing these letters to the public for the first time in the United States, we made the following remarks in the Beacon : — " These letters have been suppressed in most of the Amer ican editions of Paine's works ; as the publishers choose to pay the American people the bad compliment to suppose that their publication would hurt the sale of the work ; and that the people were so thin skinned that they could not bear to hear faults attributed to the father of the country. We be lieve they will like to see these suppressed letters, and with out altering their opinion of either Washington or Paine, they will be pleased to read them ; as exhibiting some curious facts, and Paine's accustomed good sense, accurate informa tion, and sound patriotism, without degrading General Wash ington. For our part we do not think that Paine could have supplied the place of Washington, or Washington that of Paine ; neither do we consider either the one or the other perfect ; but both wiser and better men than most who are trusted with power, or move the strings affecting public affairs. These letters were published by Paine himself, and copied by us from a London edition, by T. Williams, Little Turnstile, High Holborn, in the year 1797, when Paine was in Europe. We believe also that they were printed at Philadelphia, but suppressed." G. V. Ci) PAINE S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. THE LETTEHS. Paris, August 3. 1796. As censure is but awkwardly softened by apology, 1 shall offer you no apology for this letter. The eventful crisis, to which your double politics have conducted the affairs of your country, requires an investigation uncramped by ceremony. There was a time when the fame of America, moral and political, stood fair and high in the world. The lustre of her revolution extended itself to every individual, and to be a citizen of America, gave a title to respect in Europe. Nei ther meanness nor ingratitude had been mingled in the com position of her character. Her resistance to the attempted tyranny of England left her unsuspected of the one, and her open acknowledgment of the aid she received from France precluded all suspicion of the other. The politics of Wash ington had not then appeared. At the time I left America (April, 1787) the continental convention, that formed the federal constitution, was on the point of meeting. Since that time new schemes of politics, and new distinction of parties, have arisen. The term anti- federalist has been applied to all those who combated the de fects of that constitution, or opposed the measures of your administration. It was only to the absolute necessity of es tablishing some federal authority, extending equally over all the states, that an instrument so inconsistent as the present federal constitution is, obtained a suffrage. I would have voted for it myself, had I been in America, or even for n worse, rather than have had none ; provided it contained the means of remedying its defects bythe same appeal to the people, by which it was to be established. It is. always better policy to leave removable errors to expose themselves, than to hazard too much in contending against them theoretically. I have introduced these observations not only to mark the general difference between the anti-federalist and anti-consti tutionalist, but to preclude the effect, and even the application, of the former of these terms to myself. I declare myself op posed to several matters in the constitution, particularly to the manner in which what is called the executive is formed, and to the long duration of the senate ; and if I live to return to America, I will use all my endeavors to have them altered. I also declare myself opposed to almost the whole of your administration ; for I know it to have been deceitful, if not perfidious, as I shall show in the course of this letter. But as to the point of consolidating the states into a federal gov ernment, it so happens that the proposition for that purpose came originally from myself. I proposed it in a letter to Chancellor Livingston in the spring of the year 1782, while that gentleman was minister for foreign affairs. The five per PAINE'S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. lil cent, duty recommended by congress had then fallen through, having been adopted by some of the states, altered by others, rejected by Rhode Island, and repealed by Virginia, after it had been consented to. The proposal in the letter I allude to, was to get over the whole difficulty at once, by annexing a continental legislative body to congress ; for in order to have any law of the Union uniform, the case could only be, that either congress as it then stood, must frame the law, and the states severally adopt it without alteration, or, the states must elect a continental legislature for the purpose. Chan cellor Livingston, Robert Morris, Governeur Morris, and my self, had a meeting at the house of Robert Morris on the sub ject of that letter. There was no diversity of opinion on the proposition for a continental legislature : the only difficulty was on the manner of bringing the proposition forward. For my own part, as I considered it as a remedy in reserve, that could be applied at any time, when the states saw themselves wrong enough to be put right (which did not appear to be the case at that time), I did not see the propriety of urging it pre cipitately, and declined being the publisher of it myself. After this account of a fact, the leaders of your party will scarcely have the hardiness to apply to me the term of anti-federalist. But I can go to a date and to a fact beyond this, for the prop osition for electing a continental convention. To form the continental government is one of the subjects treated of in the pamphlet " Common Sense." Having thus cleared away a little of the rubbish that might otherwise have lain in my way, I return to the point of time at which the present federal constitution and your adminis tration began. It was very well said by an anonymous writer in Philadelphia, about"a year before that period, that " thir teen staves and ne'er a hoop will not make a barrel ;" and as any kind of hooping the barrel, however defectively executed, would be better than none, it was scarcely possible but that considerable advantages must arise from the federal hooping of the states. It was with pleasure that every sincere friend to America beheld as the natural effect of union, her rising prosperity, and it was with grief they saw that prosperity mixed, even in the blossom, with the germe of corruption. Monopolies of every kind marked your administration almost in the moment of its commencement. The lands obtained by the revolution were lavished upon partisans ; the interest ofthe disbanded soldier was sold to the speculator ; injustice was acted under the pretence of faith ; and the chief of the army became the patron of the fraud. From such a beginning what else could be expected, than what has happened 1 A mean and servile submission to the insults of one nation ; treachery and ingratitude to another. Some vices make their approach with such a splendid ap- iv PAINE'S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. pearance, that we scarcely know to what class of moral dis tinctions they belong : they are rather virtues corrupted than vices originally. But meanness and ingratitude have nothing equivocal in their character. There is not a trait in them that renders them doubtful. They are so originally vice, that they are generated in the dung of other vices, and crawl into existence with the filth upon their back. The fugitives have found protection in ypu, and the levee-room is their place of rendezvous. As the federal constitution is a copy, though not quite so base as the original, of the form of the British government, an imitation of its vices was naturally to be expected. So in timate is the connexion between form and practice, that to adopt the one is to invite the other. Imitation is naturally progressive, and is rapidly so in matters that are vicious. Soon after the federal constitution arrived in England, I received a letter from a female literary correspondent (a native of New York) very well mixed with friendship, sentiment, and politics. In my answer to that letter, I permitted myself to ramble into the wilderness of imagination, and to anticipate what might hereafter be the condition of America. I had no idea that the picture I then drew was realizing so fast, and still less that Mr. Washington was hurrying it on. As the extract I allude to is congenial with the subject I am upon, I here transcribe it : — "You touch me on a very tender point when you say that my friends on your side 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 Bordentown, or Morrissania, than see all the pomp and show of Europe. " A thousand years hence, for I must indulge a few thoughts, perhaps in less, America may be what England now is. The 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 thousands bled to obtain, may just furnish materials for a village tale, or extort a sigh from rustic sensibility ; while the fashionable of that day, enveloped in dissipation, shall de ride the principle, and deny the fact. " When we contemplate the fall of empires, and the extinc tion of the nations of the ancient world, we see but little more to excite our regret than the mouldering ruins of pompous palaces, magnificent monuments, lofty pyramids, and walls and towers of the most costly workmanship : but when the empire of America shall fall, the subject of contemplated sor row will be infinitely greater than crumbling brass, or marble can inspire. It will not then be said, Here stood a temple of PAINE S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. tf vast antiquity, here rose a Babel of invisible height, or there a palace of sumptuous magnificence ; 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 : read this, and then ask if I forget America !" Impressed as I was, with apprehension of this kind, I had America constantly in my mind in all the publications I after ward made. The first, and still more, the second part of the "Rightsjjf Man," bear evident marks of this watchfulness; and the dissertations on first principles of government goes more directly to the point than either of the former. I now pass on to the other subjects. It will be supposed by those into whose hands this letter may fall, that I have some personal resentment against you : and I will therefore settle this point before I proceed farther. If I have any resentment, you must acknowledge that I have not. been hasty in declaring it, neither would it now be de clared (for what are private resentments to the public) if the cause of it did not unite itself as well with your public as with your private character, and with the motives of your political conduct. The part I acted in the American revolution is well known. I shall not here repeat it. I know also, that had it not been for the aid received from France, in men, money, and ships, your cold and unmilitary conduct (as I shall show in the course of this letter) would in all possibility have lost America ; at least she would not have been the independent nation she now is. You slept away your time in the field, till the finances of the country were completely exhausted, and you have but little share in the glory of the final evenj;. It is time, sir, to speak the undisguised language of historical truth. Elevated to the chair of the presidency, you assumed the merit of everything to yourself; and the natural ingratitude of your constitution began to appear. You commenced your presidential career by encouraging and swallowing the gros sest adulation ; and you travelled America from one end to the other to put yourself in the way of receiving it. You have as many addresses in your chest as James II. As to what were your views, for if you are not great enough to have ambition, you are little enough to have vanity, they cannot be directly inferred from expressions of your own ; but the par tisans of your politics have divulged the secret. John Adams has said (and John it is known was always a speller after places and offices, and never thought his little services were highly enough paid) — John has said, that as Mr. Washington had no child, the presidency should be made hereditary in the family of Lun Washington. John might then have counted upon some sinecure for himself, and a provision Vl_ PAINE'S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. for his descendants. He did not go so far as to say also, that the vice-presidency should be hereditary in the family of John Adams. He prudently left that to stand upon the ground that one good turn deserves another.* John Adams is one of those men who never contemplated the origin of government, or comprehended anything of first principles. If he had, he might have seen, that the right to set up and establish hereditary government never did, and never can, exist in any generation at any time whatever ; that it is of the nature of treason, because it is an attempt to take away the rights of all the minors living at that time, and of all succeeding generations. It is of a degree beyond common treason; it is a sin against nature. The equal rights of gen erations is a right fixed in the nature of things, it belongs to the son when of age, as it belonged to the father before him. John Adams would himself deny the right that any former deceased generation could have to decree authoritatively a succession of governors over him or over his children, and yet he assumes a pretended right, treasonable as it is, of act ing it himself. His ignorance is his best excuse. John Jay has said (and this John was always the sycophant of everything -in power, from Mr. Girard in America, to Grenville in England) — John Jay has said, that the senate should have been appointed for life. He would then have been sure of never wanting a lucrative appointment for him self, and have had no fears about impeachment. These are the disguised traitors that call themselves federalists.! Could I have known to what degree of corruption and per fidy the administrative part of the government of America had descended, I could have been at no loss to have under stood the reservedness of Mr. Washington toward me dur ing my imprisonment in the Luxembourg. There are cases in which silence is a loud language. I will here explain the cause of that imprisonment, and return to Mr. Washington afterward. In the course of that rage, terror, and suspicion, which the brutal letter of the Duke of Brunswick first started into ex istence in France, it happened that almost every man who was opposed to violence, or who was not violent himself, became suspected. I had constantly been opposed to everything which was of the nature, or of the appearance of violence ; but as I had always done it in a manner that showed it to be a principle founded in my heart, and not apolitical manoeuvre, it precluded the pretence of accusing me. I was reached how ever under another pretence. * Two persons to whom John Adams said this, told me of it. The secretary of Mr. Jay was present when it was told to me. T If Mr. John Jty desires to know on what authority I say this, I will give that authority publicly when he chooses to call for it. PAINE S LETTERS TO, WASHINGTON. VII A decree was passed to imprison all persons born in Eno-- land ; but as I was a member of the convention, and had been complimented with the honorary .style of citizen of France, as Mr. Washington and some other Americans have been, this decree fell short of reaching me. A motion was after ward made and carried, supported chiefly by Bourdon de l'Oise, for expelling foreigners from the convention. My ex pulsion being thus effected, the two committees of public safety and of general surety, of which Robespierre was the dictator, put me in arrestation under the former decree for imprisoning persons born in England. Having thus shown under what pretence the imprisonment was effected, I come to speak of such parts of the case as apply between me and Mr. Washington, either as a president, or as an individual. I have always considered that a foreigner, such as I was in fact, with respect to France, might be a member of a conven tion for framing a constitution, without affecting his right of citizenship, in the country to which he belongs, but not a member of a government after a constitution is formed; and I have uniformly acted upon this distinction. To be a mem ber of a government requires a person being in allegiance with that government and to the country locally. But a con stitution, being a thing of principle, and not of action, and which after it is formed, is to be referred to the people for their approbation or rejection, does not require allegiance in the persons forming and proposing it ; and beside this, it is only to the thing after it is formed and established, and to the country after its governmental character is fixed.bythe adop tion of a constitution, that the allegiance can be given. No oath of allegiance or of citizenship was required of the mem bers who composed the convention : there was nothing exist ing in form to swear allegiance to. If any such condition had been required, I could not, as a citizen of America, in fact, though citizen of France by compliment, have accepted a seat in the convention. As my citizenship in America was not altered or diminish ed by anything I had done in Europe (on the contrary, it ought to have been considered as strengthened, for it was the American principle of government that I was endeavoring to spread in Europe), and as it is the duty of every government to charge itself with the care of any of its citizens who may happen to fall under an arbitrary persecution abroad, and this is also one of the reasons for which ambassadors or ministers are appointed, it was the duty of the executive department in America, to have made, at least some inquiries about me, as soon as it heard of my imprisonment. But if this had not been the case, that government owed it to me on every ground of honor and gratitude. Mr. Washington owed it to me on every score of private acquaintance, 1 will not now say friend- viii paine's letters to Washington. ship ; for it has sometime been known by those who know him, that he has no friendships, that he is incapable of form ing any ; he can serve or desert a man, or a cause, with con stitutional indifference ; and it is this cold hermaphrodite faculty that imposed itself upon the world, and was credited a while by enemies, as by friends, for prudence, moderation, and impartiality. Soon after I was put into arrestation and imprisonment in the Luxembourg, the Americans who were then in Paris, went in a body to the bar of the convention to reclaim me. They were answered by the then president Vadier, who has since absconded, that / was born in England, and it was signified to them, by some of the committee of general surety, to whom they were referred (I have been told it was Billaud Varennes), that their reclamation of me was only the act of individuals, without any authority from the American government. A few days after this, all communication between persons imprisoned, and any person without the prison, was cut off by an order of the police. I neither saw nor heard from any person for six months ; and the only hope that remained to me was, that a new minister would arrive from America to supersede Morris, and that he would be authorized to inquire into the cause of my imprisonment ; but even this hope, in the state to which matters were daily arriving, was too re mote to have any consolatory effect, and I contented myself with the thought that I might be remembered when it would be too late. There is perhaps, no condition from which a man conscious of his own uprightness, cannot derive conso lation ; for it is in itself a consolation for him to find, that he can bear that condition with calmness and fortitude. From about the middle of March (T794) to the fall of Robes pierre, July 29 (9th of Thermidor), the state of things in the prisons was a continued scene of horror. No man could count upon life for twenty hours. To such a pitch of rage and suspicion, were Robespierre and his committee arrived, that it seemed as if they feared to leave a man to live. Scarcely a night passed in which ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, or more, were not taken out of the prison, carried be fore a pretended tribunal in the morning, and guillotined be fore night. One hundred and sixty-nine were taken out of the Luxembourg one night, in the month of July, and one hundred and sixty of them guillotined. A list of two hundred more, according to the report in the prison, was preparing a few days before Robespierre fell. In this last list I have good reason to be believe I was included. A memorandum in the handwriting of Robespierre was afterward produced in the convention, by the committee to whom the papers of Robes pierre were referred, in these words : — PAINE S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. IX- " Demander que Thomas Paine soit decrete d' accusation pour l'interet de I'Amerique, autant que de la France."* I had been imprisoned seven months, and the silence of the executive part of the government of America (Mr. Washing ton) upon the case, and upon everything respecting me, was explanation enough to Robespierre that he might proceed to extremities. A violent fever which had nearly terminated my existence, was, I believe, the circumstance that preserved it. I was not in a condition to be removed, or to know of what was passing, or of what had passed, for more than a month. It makes a blank in my remembrance of life. The first thing I was informed of was the fall of Robespierre. About a week after this, Mr. Monroe arrived to supersede Governeur Morris, and as soon as I was able to write a note legible enough to be read, I found a way to convey one to him by means of the man who lighted the lamps in the prison ; and whose unabated friendship ,to me, from whom he had never received any service, and with difficulty accepted any recompense, puts the character of Mr. Washington to shame. In a few days I received a message from Mr. Monroe, con veyed to me in a note from an intermediate person, with as surance of his friendship, and expressing the desire that I would rest the case in his hands. After a fortnight or more had passed, and hearing nothing farther, I wrote to a friend who was then in Paris, a citizen of Philadelphia, requesting him to inform me what was the true situation of things with respect to me. I was sure that something was the matter ; I began to have hard thoughts of Mr. Washington, but I was unwilling to encourage them. In about ten days I received an answer to my letter, in which the writer says, " Mr. Monroe has told me that he has no order (meaning from the president, Mr. Washington) re specting you, but that he (Mr. Monroe) will do 'everything in his power to liberate you ; but, from what I learn from the Americans lately arrived in Paris, you . are not considered, either by the American government, or by individuals, as an American citizen." I was now at no loss to understand Mr. Washington and his new-fangled faction, and that the policy was silently to leave me to fall in France. They were rushing as fast as they could venture, without awakening the jealousy of America, into all the vices and corruptions of the British government ; and it was no more consistent with the policy of Mr. Washington, and those who immediately surrounded him, than it was with that of Robespierre or of Pitt, that I should survive. — They * " Demand that Thomas Paine be decreed of accusation for the interest of America, as well as of France," (2) X. PAINE'S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. have, however, missed the mark, and the reaction is upon themselves. Upon the receipt of the letter just alluded to, I sent a me morial to Mr. Monroe, which the reader will find in the ap pendix, and I received from him the following answer. It is dated the 18th of September, but did not come to hand till about the 18th of October. I was then falling into a relapse, the weather was becoming damp and cold, fuel was not to be had, and the abscess in my side, the consequence of those things, and of want of air and exercise, was beginning to form, and has continued immoveable ever since. Here follows Mr. Monroe's letter. [This letter we have already given in the body of the work, page 118.] The part of Mr. Monroe's letter, in which he speaks of the president (Mr. Washington), is put in soft language. Mr. Monroe knew what Mr. Washington had said formerly, and he was willing to keep that in view. But the fact is, not only that Mr. Washington had given no orders to Mr. Monroe, as the letter stated ; but he did not so much as say to him, " In quire if Mr. Paine be dead or alive, in prison or out, or see if there be any assistance we can give him." While these matters were passing, the liberations from the prisons were numerons ; from twenty to forty in the course of almost every twenty-four hours. The continuance of my imprisonment after a new minister had arrived immediately from America, which was now more than two months, was a matter so obviously strange, that I found the character of the American government spoken of in very unqualified terms of reproach; not only by those who still1 remained in prison, but by those who were liberated, and by persons who had access to the prison from without. Under these circumstances, I wrote again to Mr. Monroe, and found occasion to say, among other things, " It will not add to the popularity of Mr. Wash ington, to have it believed in America, as it is believed here — that he connives at my imprisonment." The case, so far as it respected Mr. Monroe, was, that hav ing to get over the difficulties which the strange conduct of Governeur Morris had put in the way of a successor, and hay ing no authority from the. American government, to speak officially upon anything relating to me, he found himself obliged to proceed by unofficial means with individual mem bers ; for though Robespierre was overthrown, the Robespier- rean members ofthe committee of public Safety, still remain ed in considerable force, and had they found out, that Mr. Monroe had no official authority upon the case, they would have paid little or no regard to his reclamation of me. In the meantime, my health was suffering exceedingly, the dreary prospect of winter was coming on; and imprisonment was PAINE S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. XI still a thing of danger. After the Robespierrean members of the committee were removed, by the expiration of their time of serving, Mr. Monroe reclaimed me, and I was liberated the 4th of November. Mr. Monroe arrived in Paris the beginning of August before. All that period of my imprisonment, at least, I owe not fo Robespierre, but to his colleague in proj ects, George Washington. Immediately upon my liberation, Mr. Monroe invited me to his house, where I remained more than a year and a half ; and I speak of his aid and friendship, as an open-hearted man will always do in such a case, with respect and gratitude. Soon after my liberation the convention passed a unani mous vote, to invite me to return to my seat among them. The times were still unsettled and dangerous, as well from without as within, for the coalition was unbroken, and the constitution not settled. I chose, however, to accept the in vitation ; for as I undertake nothing but what I believe to be right, I abandon nothirlg that I undertake ; and I was willing also to show, that, as I was not of a cast of mind to be de terred by prospects or retrospects of danger, so neither were my principles to be weakened by misfortune or perverted by disgust. Being now once more abroad in the world, I began to find that I was not the only one who had conceived an unfavorable opinion of Mr. Washington ; it was evident that his character was on the decline as well among Americans as among for eigners of different nations. From being the chief of the government, he had made himself the chief of a party ; and his integrity was questioned, for his politics had a doubtful appear ance. The mission of Mr. Jay to London, notwithstanding there was an American minister there already, had then taken place, and was beginning to be talked of. It appeared to others, as.it did to me, to be enveloped in mystery, which every day served either to increase or to explain into matter of suspicion. In the year 1790, or about that time, Mr. Washington, as president, had sent Gouverneur Morris to London, as his se cret agent, to have some communication with the British ministry. To cover the agency of Morris it was given out, I know not by whom, that he went as an agent from Robert Morris to borrow money in Europe, and the report was per mitted to pass uncontradicted. The event of Mr. Morris's negotiation was, that Mr. Hammond was sent minister from England to America, Pinckney from America to England, and himself minister to France. If, while Morris was minister in France, he was not an emissary of the British ministry and the coalesced powers, he gave strong reason to be suspected of it. No one who saw his conduct, and heard his conversa tion, could doubt his being in their interest ; and had he not xii PAINE'S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. got off at the time he did, after his recall, he would have been in arrestation. Some letters of his had fallen into the hands of the committee of public safety, and inquiry was making after him. A great bustle had been made by Mr. Washington about the conduct of Genet in America, while that of his own minister, Morris, in France,-was infinitely more reproachable. If Genet was imprudent or rash, he was not treacherous ; but Morris was all three. He was the enemy of the French revolution, in every stage of it. But notwithstanding this conduct on the part of Morris and the known profligacy of his character, Mr. Washington, in a letter he wrote to him at the time of recalling him on the complaint and request of the. committee of public safety, assures him, that though he had complied with that re quest, he still retained the same esteem and friendship for him as before. This letter Morris was foolish enough to tell of; and, as his own character and conduct were notorious, the telling of it could have but one effect, which was that of im plicating the character of the writer. Morris still loiters in Europe, chiefly in England ; and Mr. Washington is still in correspondence with him. Mr. Washington ought, therefore, to expect, especially since his conduct in the affair of Jay's treaty, that France must consider Morris and Washington as men of the same description. The chief difference, however, between the two is (for in politics there is none), that the one is profligate enough to profess an indifference about moral principles, and the other is prudent enough to conceal the want of them. About three months after I was at liberty, the official note of Jay to Grenville, on the subject of the capture of American vessels by British cruisers, appeared in the American papers that arrived at Paris. Everything was of a piece — everything was mean. The same kind of character went to all circum stances public or private. Disgusted at this national degrada tion, as well as at the particular conduct of Mr. Washington to me, I wrote to him (Mr. Washington) on the 22d of Feb ruary, 1795, under cover to the then secretary of state, (Mr. Randolph) and intrusted the letter to Mr. Letombe, who was appointed French consul to Philadelphia, and was on the point of taking his departure. When I supposed M. Letombe had sailed, I mentioned the letter tp Mr. Monroe, and as I was then in his house, I showed it to him. He expressed a wish that I would recall it, which he supposed might be done, as he had learned that Mr. Letombe had not then sailed. I agreed to do so, and it was returned by Mr. Letombe under cover to Mr. Monroe. The letter will, however, now reach Mr. Wash ington publicly in the course of this work. About the month of September following, I had a severe re lapse, which gave occasion to the report of my death. I had PAINE S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. xiii felt it coming on a considerable time before, which occasion ed me to hasten the work I had then on hand, " The Second Part ofthe Age of Reason." When I had finished the work, I bestowed another letter on Mr. Washington, which I sent un der cover to Mr. Franklin Bache of Philadelphia. The letter was as follows : — TO GEORGE WASHINGTON, PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES : Pahis, Sept. 20, 1795. ,Sir : I had written you a letter, by Mr. Letombe, French consul, but, at the request of Mr. Monroe, I withdrew it, and the letter is still by me. I was the more easily prevailed upon to do this, as it was then my intention to have returned to America the latter end of the present year; but the illness I now suffer prevents me. In case I had come, I should have applied to you for such parts of your official letters (and your private ones, if you had chosen to give them) as contained any instructions or directions either to Mr. M onroe, or to Mr. Morris, or to any other person, respecting me ; for after you were informed of my imprisonment in France, it was incum bent on you to have made some inquiry into the cause, as you might very well conclude that I had not the opportunity of informing you of it. I cannot understand your silence upon this subject upon any other ground than as connivance at my imprisonment ; and this is the manner it is understood' here, and will be understood in America, unless you will give me authority for contradicting it. I therefore write you this let ter, to propose to you to send me copies of any letters you have written, that I may remove this suspicion. In the pre face to " Second Part of the Age of Reason," I have given a memorandum from the handwriting of Robespierre, in which he proposed a decree of accusation against me, "for the in terest of America, as well as of France." He could have no cause for putting America inthe case, but by interpreting the silence of the American government into connivance and con sent. I was imprisoned on the ground of being born in Eng land ; and your silence in not inquiring the cause of that im prisonment, and reclaiming me against it, was tacitly giving me up. I ought not to have suspected you of treachery ; but whether I recover from the illness I now suffer, or not, I shall continue to think you treacherous, till you give me cause to think otherwise. I am sure you would have found yourself more at your ease, had you acted by me as you ought ; for whether your desertion of me was intended to gratify the English government, or to let me fall into destruction in France, that you might exclaim the louder against the French revolution ; or whether.* you hoped by my extinction to meet withless opposition in mounting up the American govern- XIV PAINE S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. ment; either of these will involve you in reproach you will not easily shake off. Thomas Paine. The withdrawn letter alluded to in the above. TO GEORGE WASHINGTON, PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES I Paris, Feb. 22, 1795. Sir : As it is always painful to reproach those one would wish to respect, it is not without some difficulty I have taken the resolution to write to you. The danger to which I haye been exposed cannot have been unknown to you, and the guarded silence you have observed upon that circumstance is what I ought not to have expected from you, either as a friend or as president of the United States. You knew enough of my character to be assured, that I could not have deserved imprisonment in France ; and, with out knowing anything more than this, you had sufficient ground to have taken some interest for my safety. Every motive arising from recollection ought to have suggested to you the consistency of such a measure. But I cannot find that you have so much as directed any inquiry to be made whether I was in prison or at liberty, dead or alive; what the cause of that imprisonment was, or whether there was any service or assistance you could render. Is this what I ought to have ex pected from America, after the part I have acted toward her 1 or will it redound to her honor or yours that I tell'the story 1 I do not hesitate to say, that you have not served America with more fidelity, or greater zeal, or more disinterestedness, than myself, and perhaps not with better effect. After the revolution of America had been established, you rested at home to partake its advantages, and I ventured into new scenes of difficulty to extend the principles which that revolution had produced. In the progress of events, you beheld yourself a president in America, and me a prisoner in France ; you fold ed your arms, forgot your friend, and became silent. As everything I have been doing in Europe was connected with my wishes for the prosperity of America, I ought to be the more surprised at this conduct on the part of her govern ment. It leaves me but one mode of explanation, which is, that everything is not as it ought to be among you, and that the presence of a man who might disapprove, and who had credit enough with the eountry to be heard and believed, was not wished for. This was the operating motive with the despotic faction that imprisoned me in France (though the pretence was that I was a foreigner) and those that have been silent and inactive toward me in America, appear to me to have acted from the same motive. It is impossible for me to dis cover any other. After the part I have taken in the revolution of America, it xv is natural that I feel interested in whatever relates to her character and prosperity. Though I am not on the spot to see what is immediately acting there, I see some part of what she is acting in Europe. For your own sake, as well as for that of America, I was both surprised and concerned at the appointment of Gouverneur Morris to be minister to France. His conduct has proved, that the opinion I had formed of that appointment was well founded. I wrote that opinion to Mr. Jefferson at the time, and I was frank enough to say the same thing to Morris, that it was an unfortunate appointment. His prating insignificant pomposity rendered him at once offensive, suspected, and ridiculous ; and his total neglect of all business had so disgusted the Americans, that they proposed drawing up a protest against him. He carried this neglect to such an extreme, that it was necessary to inform him of it ; and I ask ed him one day, if he did not feel himself ashamed to take the money ofthe country and do nothing for it; but Morris is so fond of profit and voluptuousness, that he cares nothing about character. Had he not been removed at the time he was, I think his conduct would have precipitated the two countries into a rupture ; and in this case, hated systematically as Amer ica is, and ever will be, by the British government, and at the same time suspected by France, the commerce of America would have fallen a prey to both. If the inconsistent conduct of Morris exposed , the interest of America to some hazard in France, the pusillanimous con duct of Mr. Jay in England has rendered the American govern ment contemptible in Europe. Is it possible that any man, who has contributed to the independence of America, and to free her from the tyranny and injustice of the British govern ment, can read without shame and indignation the note of Jay to Grenville \ It is a satire upon the declaration of independ ence, and an encouragement to the British government to treat America with contempt. At the time this minister of petitions was acting this miserable part, he had every means in his hands to enable him to have done his business as he ought. The success or failure of his mission depended upon the success or failure of the French arms. Had France failed, Mr. Jay might have put his humble petition in his pocket and gone home. The case happened to be otherwise, and he has sacrificed the honor, and perhaps the advantage of it, by turn ing petitioner. I take it for granted, that he was sent over to demand indemnification for the captured property; and, in this case, if he thought he wanted a preamble to his demand, he might have said, that, "though the government of England might suppose itself under the necessity of seizing American property bound to France, yet that supposed necessity could not preclude indemnification to the proprietors, who, acting under the authority of their own government, were not ac- XVI PAINE S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. countable to any other." But Mr. Jay sets out with an implied recognition of the right of the British government to seize and condemn ; for he enters his complaint against the irregularity of the seizures, and the condemnation, as if they were repre hensible only by not being conformable to the terms of the proclamation under which they were seized. Instead of being the envoy of a government, he goes over like a lawyer to de mand a new trial. I can hardly help thinking but that Gren- ville wrotethat note himself, and Jay signed it ; for the style of it is domestic, and not diplomatic. The term his majesty, used without any descriptive epithet, always signifies the king whom the minister represents. If this sinking of the demand into a petition was a juggle between Grenville and Jay to cover the indemnification, I think it will end in another juggle, that of never paying the money ; and be made use of afterward to preclude the right of demanding it : for Mr. Jay has virtually disowned the right by appealing to the magnanimity of his majesty against the capturers. He has made this magnanimous majesty umpire in the case, and the government of the United States must abide by the decision. If, sir, I turn some part of this business into ridicule, it is to avoid the unpleasant sen sation of serious indignation. Among other things which I confess I do not understand, is your proclamation of neutrality. — This has always appeared to me as an assumption on the part of the executive. But passing this over as a disputable case, and considering it only as political, the consequence has been that of sustaining the losses of war, without the balance of reprisals. When the profession of neutrality, on the part of America, was answer ed by hostilities on the part of Britain, the object and inten tion of that neutrality existed no longer; and to maintain it after this, was not only to encourage farther insults and dep redations, but was an informal breach of neutrality toward France, by passively contributing to the aid of her enemy. That the government of England considered the American government as pusillanimous, is evident from the increasing insolence of the conduct of the former toward the latter, till the affair of General Wayne. She then saw that it might be possible to kick a government into some degree of spirit. So far as the proclamation of neutrality was intended to prevent a dissolute spirit of privateering in America under foreign colors, it was undoubtedly laudable; but to continue it as a government neutrality, after the commerce of America was made war upon, was submission, and not neutrality. — I have heard so much about this thing called neutrality, that I know not if the ungenerous and dishonorable silence (for I must call it such) that has been observed by your part of the govern ment toward me during my imprisonment, has not in some measure arisen from that policy. PAINE'S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. xvii Though I have written you this letter, you ought not to sup pose it has been an agreeable undertaking to me. On the contrary, I assure you it has cost me some disquietude. I am sorry you have given me cause to do it ; for, as I have always remembered your former friendship with pleasure, I suffer a loss by your depriving me of that sentiment. Thomas Paine. That this letter was not written in very good temper, is very evident ; but it was just such a letter as his conduct ap peared to me to merit, and everything on his part since has served to confirm that opinion. Had I wanted a commentary on his silence, with respect to my. imprisonment in France, some of his faction have furnished me with it. What I here allude to, is a publication in a Philadelphia paper, copied after ward into a New York paper, both under the patronage of the Washington faction, in which the writer, still supposing me in prison in France, wonders at my lengthy respite from the scaffold. And he marks his politics still farther, by saying : " It appears, moreover, that the people of England did not rel ish his [Thomas Paine's] opinions quite so well as he expect ed; and that for one of his last pieces, as destructive to the peace and happiness of their country (meaning, I suppose, the " Rights of Man"), they threatened our knight-errant with such serious vengeance, that, to avoid a trip to Botany Bay, he fled over to France, as a less dangerous voyage." I am not refuting or contradicting the falsehood of this pub lication, for it is sufficiently notorious, neither am I censuring the writer, on the contrary, I thank him for the explanation he has incautiously given of the principles of the Washington faction. Insignificant, however, as the piece is, it was capa ble of having some ill effects, had it arrived in France during my imprisonment, and in the time of Robespierre ; and I am uncharitable in supposing that this was one of the intentions of the writer.* I have now done with Mr. Washington on the score of pri- jfate affairs. It would have been far more agreeable to me, had his conduct been such as not to have merited these re proaches. Errors or caprices of temper, can be pardoned and forgotten ; but a cold deliberate crime of the heart, such as Mr. Washington is capable of acting, is not to be washed away. — I now proceed to other matter. After Jay's note to Grenville arrived in Paris from America, the character of everything that was to follow might be easily foreseen ; and it was upon this anticipation that my letter of * I know not who the writer of this piece is, but some late Americans say it is Phineas Bond, an American refugee, and now a British consul j and that he writes under the signature of Peter Skunk, or Peter Porcupine (Cobbett) , or some such signature. C3) XV111 PAINE S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. February the twenty-second was founded. The event has proved that I was not mistaken, except that it had been much worse than I expected. It would naturally occur to Mr. Washington, that the secresy of Jay's mission to England, where there was already an American minister, could not but create some suspicion inthe French government, especially as the conduct of Morris had been notorious, and the intimacy of Mr. Washington with Morris was known. The character which Mr. Washington has attempted to act in the world, is a sort of non-describable chameleon-colored thing, called prudence. It is, in many cases, a substitute for principle, and is so nearly allied to hypocrisy, that it easily slides into it. His genius for prudence furnished him, in this instance, with an expedient that served (as is the nat ural and general character of all expedients) to diminish the embarrassment of the moment, and multiply them afterward ; for he caused it to be announced to the French government as a confidential matter (Mr. Washington should recollect that I was a member of the convention, and had the means of know ing what I here state — he caused it, I say, to be announced, and that for the purpose of preventing any uneasiness to the French, on the score of Mr. Jay's mission to England, that the object of that mission, and Mr. Jay's authority, were restrict ed to the demanding of the surrender of the western posts, and indemnification for the cargoes captured in American vessels. — Mr. Washington knows that this was untrue ; and knowing this, he had good reason, to himself, for refusing to furnish the house of representatives with copies of the in structions given to Jay, as he might suspect, among other things, that he should be also called upon for copies of instruc tions given to other ministers, and that in the contradiction of instructions his want of integrity would be detected. Mr. Washington may now perhaps learn, when it is too late to be of any use to him, that a man will pass better through the world with a thousand open errors upon his back, than in be ing detected in one sly falsehood. When one is detected, a thousand more are suspected. The first aecount that arrived in Paris of a treaty being ne gotiated by Mr. Jay (for nobody suspected any) came in an English newspaper, which announced that a treaty, offensive and defensive, had been concluded between the United States of America and England. This was immediately denied by every American in Paris, as an impossible thing ; and though it was disbelieved by the French, it imprinted a suspicion that some underhand business was going forward. At last the treaty itself arrived, and every well-affected American blushed with shame. It is curious to observe how the appearances of characters PMNE S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. XIX will change, while the root that produces them remains the same. The Washington faction having waded, through the slough of negotiation, and while it amused France with pro fessions of friendship contrived to injure her, immediately throws off the hypocrite and assumes the swaggering air of a bravado. The party papers of that imbecile administration were on this occasion filled with paragraphs about sovereignty A poltron may boast of his sovereign right to let another kick him, and this is the only kind of sovereignty shown in the treaty with England. But those dashing paragraphs, as Timothy Pickering well knows, were intended for France, without whose assistance, in men, money, and ships, Mr. Wash ington would have cut but a poor'figure in the American war. But of his military talents I shall speak hereafter. I mean not to enter into any discussion of any article of Jay's treaty ; I shall speak only upon the whole of it. It is attempted to be justified on the ground of its not being a^ vio lation of any article or articles of the treaty pre-existing with France. But the sovereign right of explanation does not lie with George Washington and his man Timothy ; France, on her part, has, at least, an equal right : and when nations dis- pute,it is not so much about words as about things. A man, such as the world calls a sharper, as versed as Jay must be supposed to be in the quibbles of the law, may find a way to enter into engagements, and make bargains, in such a manner as to cheat some other party, without that party being able, as the phrase is, to take the law of him. This often hap pens in the cabalistical circle of what is called law. But when this is attempted to be acted on the national scale of treaties, it is too despicable to be defended, or to be permitted to exist. Yet this is the trick upon which Jay's treaty is founded, so far as it has relation to the treaty pre-existing with France. It is a counter-treaty to that treaty, and perverts all the great articles of that treaty to the injury of France, and makes them operate as a bounty to England, with whom France is at war. The Washington administration shows great desire that the treaty between France and the United States be preserved. Nobody can doubt its sincerity upon this matter. There is not a British minister, a British merchant, or a British agent or fac tor, in America, that does not anxiously wish the same thing. The treaty with France serves now as a passport to supply England with naval stores, and other articles of American produce ; while the same articles when coming to France are made contraband, or seizable, by Jay's treaty with England. The treaty with France says, that neutral ships make neutral property, and thereby gives protection to English property on board American ships ; and Jay's treaty delivers up French property on board American ships to be seized by the English. It is too paltry to talk of faith, of national honor, and of the XX PAINE'S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. preservation of treaties, while such a bare-faced treachery as this stares the world irt the face. The Washington administration may save itself the trouble of proving to the French government its most faithful inten tions of preserving the treaty with France; for France has now no desire that it should be preserved ; she had nominated an envoy extraordinary to America, to make Mr. Washington and his government a present of the treaty, and to have no more to do with that or with him. It was at the same time officially declared to the American minister at Paris, that the French republic had rather have the American government for an open enemy than a treacherous friend. This, sir, together with the internal distractions caused in America, and the loss of character in the world, is the eventful crisis alluded to in the beginning of this letter, to which your double politics have brought the affairs of your country. It is time that the eyes of America be opened upon you. How France could have conducted herself toward America, and American commerce, after all treaty stipulations had ceased, and under the sense of services rendered, and injuries received, I know not. It is, however, an unpleasant reflec tion, that in all national quarrels, the innocent, and even the friendly part of the community, become involved with the cul pable and the unfriendly ; and as the accounts that arrived from America continued to manifest an invariable attachment, in the general mass of the people, to their original ally, in opposition to the new-fangled Washington faction, the revo lutions that had been taken in France were suspended. It happened also, fortunately enough, that Gouverneur Morris was not minister at this time. There is, however, one point that yet remains in embryo, and which, among other things, serves to show the ignorance of the Washington treaty-makers, and their inattention to pre existing treaties, when they were employing themselves in framing or ratifying the new treaty with England. The second article ofthe treaty of commerce between the United States and France says : " The most Christian king and the United States engage mutually not to grant any particular favor to any other nations, in respect to commerce and navi gation, that shall not immediately become common to the other party, who shall enjoy the same favor freely, if the con cession was freely made, or on allowing the same compensa tion if the concession was conditional." All the concessions therefore made to England by Jay's treaty are, through the medium of this second article in the pre-existing treaty, made to France, and* become engrafted' into the treaty with France, and can be exercised by her as a matter of right, the same as by England. Jay's treaty makes a concession to England, and that un- PAINE'S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. xxi conditionally, of seizing naval stores in American ships, and condemning them as contraband. It makes also a concession to England to seize provisions and other articles in American ships. Other articles, are all other articles ; and none but an ignoramus, or something worse, would have put such a phrase into a treaty. The condition arfnexed to this case is, that the provisions and other articles so seized, are to be paid for at a price to be agreed upon. Mr. Washington, as president, rati fied this treaty after he knew the British government had re commenced an indiscriminate seizure of provisions, and of all other articles in American ships ; and it is now known that those seizures were made to fit out the expedition going to Quiberon Bay, and it was known beforehand that they would be made. The evidence goes also a good way to prove that Jay and Grenville understood each other upon that subject. Mr. Pinckney, when he passed through France in his way to Spain, spoke of the recommencement of the seizures as a thing that would take place. The French government had by some means received information from London to the same purpose, with the addition, that the recommencement of the seizures would cause no misunderstanding between the British and American governments. Grenville, in defending himself against the opposition in parliament, on account of the scarcity of corn, said (see his speech at the opening of the parliament that met October 29, 1795) that the supplies for the Quiberon expedition were furnished out of the American ships, and all the accounts received at that time from England stated that those seizures were made under the treaty. After the supplies for the Quiberon expedition had been procured, and the expected success had failed, the seizures were countermanded ; and had the French seized provision vessels going to England, it is probable that the Quiberon expedition could not have been attempted. In one point of view, the treaty with England operates as a loan to the English government. It gives permission to that government to take American property at sea, to any amount, and pay for it when it suits her ; and, beside this, the treaty is in every point of view a surrender of the rights of American commerce and navigation, and a refusal to France of the rights of neutrality. The American flag is now a neutral flag to France ; Jay's treaty of surrender gives a monopoly of it to England. On the contrary, the treaty of commerce between America and France was formed on the most liberal principles, and cal culated to give the greatest encouragement to the infant com merce of America. France was neither a carrier nor an ex porter of naval stores, or of provisions; those articles belonged wholly to America ; and they had all the protection in that treaty which a treaty can give. But so much has that treaty Xxii PAINE'S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. been perverted, that the liberality of it on the part of France has served to encourage Jay to form a counter-treaty with England ; for he must have supposed the hands of France tied up by her treaty with America, when he was making such large concessions in favor of England. The injury which Mr. Washington's administration* has done to the character, as well as to the commerce of America, is too great to be repair ed by him. Foreign nations will be shy of making treaties with a government that has given the faithless example of per verting. the liberality of a former treaty to the injury ofthe party with whom it, was made. In what fraudulent light must Mr. Washington's character appear in the world, when his declarations and his conduct are compared together ! Here follows the letter he wrote to the committee of public safety, while Jay was negotiating in profound secresy this treacherous treaty : — " George Washington, president of the United States of Amer ica, to the representatives of the French people,, members ofthe committee of public safety of the French republic, the great and good friend and ally of the United States. On the intimation of the wish of the French republic that a new minister should be sent from the United States, I resolv ed to manifest my sense of the readiness with which my re quest was fulfilled (that of recalling Genet), by immediately fulfilling the request of your government (that of recalling Morris). It was some time before a character could be obtained worthy of the high office of expressing the attachment of the United States to the happiness of our allies, and drawing closer the bonds of our friendship. I have now made choice of James Monroe, one of our distinguished citizens, to reside near the French republic, in quality of minister plenipotentiary of the United States of America. He is instructed to bear to you our sincere solicitude for your welfare, and to cultivate with zeal the cordiality so happily subsisting between us. From a knowledge of his fidelity, probity, and good conduct, I have entire confidence that he will render himself acceptable unto you, and give effect to your desire of preserving and advan cing on all occasions the interests and connexion of the two na tions. I beseech you, therefore, to give full credence to what ever he shall say to you on the part ofthe United States, and most of all, when he shall assure you that your prosperity is an object of our affection. And I pray God to have the French republic in his holy keeping. G. Washington." Was it by entering into a treaty with England to surrender French property on board American ships, to be seized by the English, while English property on board American ships was PAINE S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. XXiH declared bythe French treaty not to be seizable, that the bonds of friendship between America and France were to be drawn closer I Was it by declaring naval stores contraband when coming to France, while by the French treaty they were not contraband when going to England, that the connexion between France and America was to be advanced ? Was it by opening the American ports to the British navy in the present war, from which ports that same navy had been expelled by the aid solicited from France in the American war (and that aid gra tuitously given), that the gratitude of America was to be shown, and the solicitude spoken of in the letter demon strated 1 As the letter was addressed to the committee of public safety, Mr. Washington did not expect it would get abroad in the world, or be seen by any other eye than that of Robespierre, or be heard by any other ear than that of the committee ; that it would pass as a whisper across the Atlantic from one dark chamber to the other, and there terminate. It was calculated to remove from the mind of the committee all suspicion upon Jay's mission to England, and in this point of view it was suit ed to the circumstances of the moment then passing ; but as the event of that mission has proved the letter to be hypocrit ical, it serves no other purpose of the present moment than to show that the writer is not to be credited. Two circum stances served to make the reading of the letter necessary in the convention*; the one was, that they who succeeded on the fall of Robespierre, found it most proper to act with publicity ; the other, to extinguish the suspicions which the strange con duct of Morris had, occasioned in France. When the British treaty and the ratification of it by Mr. Washington were known in France, all farther declarations from him of his good disposition, as an ally and a friend, pass ed for so many ciphers ; but still it appeared necessary to keep up the farce of declarations. It is stipulated in the British treaty^ that commissioners are to report, at the end of two years, on the case of neutral ships making neutral property. In the meantime, neutral ships do not make neutral property according to the British treaty, and they do according to the French treaty. The preservation therefore of the French treaty became of great importance to England, as by that means she can employ American ships as carriers, while the same advantage is denied to France. Whether the French treaty could exist as a matter of right after this clandestine perversion of it, could not but give some apprehensions to the partisans of the British treaty, and it became necessary to them to make up by fine words , what was wanting in good actions. An opportunity offered to that purpose. The convention, on the public reception of Mr. Monroe, ordered the American XXIV PAINE S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. flag and the French flag to be displayed unitedly in the hall of the convention. Mr. Monroe made a present of an American flag for the purpose. The convention returned this compli ment, by sending a French flag to America, to be presented by their minister, Mr. Adet, to the American government. This resolution passed long before Jay's treaty was known or suspected : it passed in the days of confidence ; — but the flag was not presented by Mr. Adet till several months after the treaty had been ratified. Mr. Washington made this the oc casion of saying some fine things to the French minister ; and the better to get himself into the tune to do'this, he began by saying the finest things of himself. " Born, sir," said he, " in a land of liberty ; having learned its value ; having engaged in a perilous conflict to defend it ; having, in a word, devoted the best years of my life to secure its permanent establishment in my own country; my anxious recollections, my sympathetic feelings, and my best wishes, are irresistibly excited, whenever, in any country, I see an op pressed people unfurl fhe banner of freedom." — Mr. Washing ton having expended so many fine phrases upon himself, was obliged to invent a new one for the French, and he calls them " wonderful people !" — The coalesced powers acknowledge as much. It is laughable to hear Mr. Washington talk of his sympa thetic feelings, who has always been remarked, even among his friends, for not having any. He has, however, given no proof of any to me. As to the pompous encomiums he so liberally pays to himself on the score of the American revolu tion, the propriety of them may be questioned ; and, since he has forced them so much into notice, it is fair to examine his pretensions. A stranger might be led to suppose, from the egotism with which Mr. Washington speaks, that himself, and himself only, had generated, conducted, completed, and established, the revolution. In fine, that it was all his own doing. In the first place, as to the political part, he had no share in it ; and therefore the whole of that is out of the question with respect to him. There remains, then, only the military part ; and it would have been prudent in Mr. Washington not to have awakened inquiry upon that subject. Fame then was cheap ; he enjoyed it cheaply ; and nobody was disposed to take away the. laurels that, whether they were acquired or not, had been given. Mr. Washington's merit consisted in constancy. But con stancy was the common virtue of the revolution. Who was there that was inconstant 1 ,1 know but of one military de fection, that of Arnold ; and I know of no political defection, among those who made themselves eminent when the revolu- PAINE S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. XXV ¦ tion was formed by the declaration of independence. Evan Silas Deane, though he attempted to defraud, did not betray: But, when we speak of military character, something more is to be understood than constancy ; and something more ought to be understood than the Fabian system of doing noth ing. The nothing part can be done by anybody. Old Mrs. Thompson, the housekeeper ofheadquarters (who threatened to make the sun and the wind shine through Rivington of New York) could have done it as well as Mr. Washington / Deborah would have been as good as Barak. ; Mr. Washington had the national rank of commander-in-5 chief, but he was not so in fact. He had, in reality, only & separate command. He had no control over, or direction of, the army to the northward under Gates, that captured Bur goyne ; or of that to the south under Greene, that recovered the southern states. The nominal rank, however, of com mander-in-chief, served to throw upon him the lustre of those actions, and to make him appear as the soul and centre of all military operations in America. He commenced his command June, 1775, during the time the Massachusetts army lay before Boston, and after the affair of Bunker's hill. The commencement of his command was the commencement of inactivity. Nothingwas afterward done or attempted to be done, during the nine months he remained before Boston. If we may judge from the resistance made at Concord, and afterward at Bunker's hill, there was a spirit of enterprise at that time, which the presence of Mr. Wash ington chilled into cold defence. By the advantage of a good exterior he attracts respect, which his habitual silence tends to preserve ; but he has not the talent of inspiring ardor in an army. The enemy removed from Boston to Halifax in March, 1776, to wait for reinforcements from Europe, and to take a more advantageous position at New York. The inactivity of the campaign of 1775, on the part of General Washington, when the enemy had a less force than in any other future period of the war, and the injudicious choice of positions taken by him in -the campaign of 1776, when the enemy had its greatest force, necessarily produced the losses and misfortunes that marked that gloomy campaign. The positions taken were either islands or necks of land. In the former, the enemy by the aid of their ships, could bring their whole force against General Washington as in the affair of Long Island ; and in the latter, he might be shut up as in the bottom of a bag. This had nearly been the case at New York, and it was so in part : it was actually the case at Fort Wash ington ; and it would have been the case at Fort Lee if Gen eral Greene had not moved precipitately off, leaving everything behind, and by gaining Hackensuch bridge, got out of the bag of Bergen Neck. How far, Mr. Washington, as general, is (4,) XXVI PAINE'S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. blameable for these matters, I am not undertaking to deter mine ; but they are evidently -defects in military geography. The successful skirmishes at the close of that campaign (mat ters that would scarcely be noticed in a better state of affairs) make the brilliant exploits of General Washington's seven campaigns. — No wonder we see so much pusillanimity in the president, when we see so little enterprise in the general ! The campaign of 1777 became famous, not by anything on the part of General Washington, but by the capture of General Burgoyne and the army under his command, by the northern army at Saratoga, under General Gates. So totally distinct and unconnected were the two armies of Washington and Gates, and so independent was the latter of the authority of the nominal commander-in-chief, that the two generals did not so much as correspond, and it was only by a letter of General (since governor) Clinton, that General Washington was in formed of that event. The British took possession of Phila delphia this year, which they evacuated the next, just time enough to save their heavy baggage and fleet of transports from capture by the French Admiral d'Estaing who arrived at the mouth of the Delaware soon after. The capture of Burgoyne gave an eclat in Europe to the American arms, and facilitated the alliance with France. The eclat, however, was not kept up by anything on the part of General Washington. The same unfortunate languor that marked his entrance into the field, continued always. Dis content began to prevail strongly against him, and a party was formed in Congress while sitting at Yorktown in Pennsylvania, for removing him from the command of the army. The hope, however, of better times, the news of the alliance with France, and the unwillingness of showing discontent, dissipated the matter. Nothing was done in the campaign of 1778, 1779, 1780, in the part where General Washington commanded, except the taking Stony Point by General Wayne. The southern states in the meantime were overrun by the enemy. They were after ward recovered by General Greene, who had in a very great measure created the army that accomplished that recovery. In all this General Washington had no share. The Fabian system of war, followed by him, began now to unfold itself with all its evils ; for what is Fabian war without Fabian means to support it 1 The finances of Congress, depending wholly on emissions of paper money, were exhausted. Its credit was gone. The continental treasury was not able to pay the ex pense of a brigade of wagons to transport the necessary stores to the army, and yet the sole object, the establishment ofthe revolution, was a thing of remote distance. The time I am now speaking of is in the latter end of the year 1780. Jn this situation of things it was found not only expedient, PAINE'S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. XXVU but absolutely necessary for Congress to state the whole case to its ally. I know more of this matter (before it came into Congress, or was known to General Washington), of its prog ress, and its issue, than I choose to state in this letter. Colonel John Laurens was sent to France as an envoy extra ordinary on this occasion, and by a private agreement between him and me, I accompanied him. We sailed from Boston in the Alliance frigate, February eleventh, 1781. France had already done much in accepting and paying bills drawn by Congress ; she was now called upon to do more. The event of Colonel Laurens' mission, with the aid of the venerable minister Franklin, was, that France gave in money, as a pres ent, six millions of livres, and ten millions more as a loan, and agreed to send a fleet of not less than thirty sail-of-the- line, at her own expense, as an aid to America. Colonel Laurens and myself returned from Brest the first of June fol lowing, taking with us two millions and a half of livres (up ward of one hundred thousand pounds sterling) of the money given, and convoying two ships with stores. We arrived at Boston the twenty-fifth of August following. De Grasse arrived with the French fleet in the Chesapeake at the same time, and was afterward joined by that of Barras, making thirty-one sail-of-the-line. The money was transport ed in wagons from Boston to the bank of Philadelphia, of which Mr. Thomas Willing, who has since put himself at the head of the list of petitioners in favor of the British treaty, was then president. And it was by the aid of this money, of this fleet, and of Rochambeau's army, that Cornwallis was taken; the laurels of which have been unjustly given to Mr. Washington. His merit in that affair was no more than that of any other American officer. I have had, and still have, as much pride in the American revolution as any man, or as Mr. Washington has a right to have ; but that pride has never made me forgetful whence the great aid came that completed the business. Foreign aid (that of France) was calculated upon at the commencement of the revolution. It is one ofthe subjects treated of in the pam phlet "Common Sense," but as a matter that could not be hoped for, unless independence was declared. The aid how ever was greater than could have been expected. It is as well the ingratitude as the pusillanimity of Mr. Washington and the Washington faction, that has brought upon America the loss of character she now suffers in the world, and the numerous evils her commerce has undergone, and to which it is still exposed. The British ministry soon found out what sort of men they had to deal with, and they dealt with them accordingly ; and if farther explanation was wanting, it has been fully given since, in the snivelling address of the New York chamber of commerce to the president, and xxviii paine's letters to Washington. in that of sundry merchants of Philadelphia, which was not much better. When the revolution of America was finally established by the termination of the war, the w;orld gave her credit for great character ; and she had nothing to do but to stand firm upon that ground. The British ministry had their hands too full of trouble to have provoked a rupture with her, had she shown a proper resolution to defend her rights: but encouraged as they were, by the submissive character of the American ad ministration, they proceeded from insult to insult, till none more were left to be offered. The proposals made by Sweden and Denmark to the American government were disregarded. I know not if so much as an answer has been returned to them. The minister penitentiary (as some of the British prints call ed him), Mr. Jay, was sent on a pilgrimage to London, to make all up by penance and petition. In the meantime, the lengthy and drowsy writer of the pieces signed Camillus held himself in reserve to vindicate everything ; and to sound in America the tocsin of terror upon the inexhaustible resources of Eng land. Her resources says he, are greater than those of all the other powers. This man is so intoxicated with fear and fi nance, that he knows not the difference between plus and mi nus — between a hundred pounds in hand and a hundred pounds worse than nothing. , The commerce of America, so far as it had been establish ed, by all the treaties that had been foimed prior to that by Jay, was free, and the principles upon which it was establish ed were good. That ground ought never to have been depart ed from. It was the justifiable ground of right : and no tem porary difficulties ought to have induced an abandonment of it The case is now otherwise. The ground, the scene, the pretensions, the everything, is changed. The commerce of America is by Jay's treaty put under foreign dominion. The sea is not free for her. Her right to navigate it is reduced to the right of escaping ; that is, until some ship of England or France stops her vessels, and carries them into port. Every article of American produce, whether from the sea or the land, fish, flesh, vegetable, or manufacture, is by Jay's treaty made either contraband or seizable. Nothing is exempt. In all other treaties of commerce the article which enumerates the contraband articles, such as firearms, gunpowder, &c, is fol lowed by another which enumerates the articles not contra band : but it is not so in Jay's treaty. There is no exempting article. Its place is supplied by the article for seizing and carrying into port ; and the sweeping phrase of provisions and other articles includes everything. There never was such a base and servile treaty of surrender, since treaties began to exist. This is the ground upon which America now stands. All PAINE'S LETTERS TO WASHINGTON. XX1X her rights of commerce and navigation areto begin a new, and that with loss of character to begin with. — If there is sense enough left in the heart, to call a blush into the cheek, the Washington administration must be ashamed to appear. — And as to you, sir, treacherous in private friendship (for so you have been to me, and that in the day of danger) and a hypo crite in public life, the world will be troubled to decide whether you are an APOSTATE, or an IMPOSTOR— Whether you have abandoned good principles, or whether you ever had any. Thomas Paine. CONTENTS. Preface, containing earlier Histories, Cheetham's Trial, Carver's Letter, Vfcc p. 3-14 PART I. / Mr. Paine, his birth, parentage, early life, education, religious impressions .... 16 Employment, arrives in London, goes to sea 17 Leaves the sea, his School-master's in fluence, settles at Sandwich, marries, removes to Margate, becomes Excise man, is dismissed, Petitions 18 Goes to London, becomes a Teacher, and Student in Natural Philosophy, Astronomy, and Mathematics 19 His style, and attainments 20,21 Re-appointed in the Excise, resides at Lewes, second marriage, social hab its, early Poetry, his Letter on Excise Officers, habits, and reputation . . . .22, 23 Becomes tobacconist, surfers in busi ness, separates from his Wife, her property, after-conduct, feligion, sin gular connubial fact 24,25 His early Thoughts on Government, re visits London, obtains Franklin's friendship, leaves England for Amer ica, Reflections 26-28 PART II. X Mr. Paine, his arrival in America, brings letters from Franklin, edits " Penn sylvania Magazine," his poetry, song un Wolfe, object in corning to Amer ica, connexion with Dr. Rush, his literary attainments, a beautiful ex tract 30-33 Publishes " Common Sense," -its ef fects, gives up copy-right, enters the army as a volunteer 50-53 Publishes the " Crisis," an extract, ChenLham's account of its influence on the Trenton affair, 2d " Crisis," to Lord Howe, 3d " Crisis," appoint ed Secretary to the Committee on Foreign Affairs 54, 55 4th " Crisis," on the loss of the battle at Brandywine, salutary effects of ¦ this Crisis, 5th " Crisis" (to Lord Howe), on predatory war,, distribu tion, of forged bills 56 6th " Crisis," to Carlisle, Clinton,