In the above how one is reminded of Junius, when he says: "The original fault is in the government," and "there are many things which we ought to affirm can not be done by king, lords, and commons." "The ruin or prosperity of a state depends on the administration of its government." "Behold a nation overwhelmed with debt, her revenues wasted, her trade declining." That "a reasonable man can expect no remedy but poison, no relief but death." "And that if an honest man were permitted to approach a king, it would be matter of curious speculation how he would be received," if the king himself had "spirit enough to bid him speak freely, and understanding enough to listen to him with attention."
For the publication of this work in England many men were fined and imprisoned. Mr. Paine himself was tried and convicted, but having been elected a representative to the National Assembly of France, by the Department of Calais, he left England in September, 1792, and being afterward outlawed, never set foot on her soil again. Had it not been for this election to the National Assembly, he would have remained to contest in an English court the principles he had proclaimed. Twenty minutes after he left her shores forever, an order arrived at Dover, from which place he sailed, for his detention, but it was too late; there is yet a sublime deed to be done.
At Calais, France embraced him, and a daughter of the New Republic placed in his hat the national cockade. Mr. Paine is now entering the dark days of his life. With what fortitude and manliness he shall pass through them we shall see. He takes his seat in the National Assembly. In this he addresses the people of France, and says; "I come not to enjoy repose. I commence my citizenship in the stormy hour of difficulties. Convinced that the cause of France is THE CAUSE OF ALL MANKIND, and that liberty can not be purchased by a wish, I gladly share with you the dangers and honors necessary to success.... Let us now look calmly and confidently forward, and success is certain. It is no longer the paltry cause of kings, or of this or that individual, that calls France and her armies into action. It is the great cause of ALL. It is the establishment of a new era that shall blot despotism from the earth, and fix, on the lasting principles of peace and citizenship the great REPUBLIC OF MAN."
France is declared a republic, and Mr. Paine is one of nine men to draft a new constitution. This work is done. In the meantime, charges are preferred against the king, and Louis XVI is brought to trial. Mr. Paine voted for the trial. The king is found guilty, and condemned to die. But he has now a friend in Thomas Paine. He speaks against the death penalty, and says:
"Citizen President: My hatred and abhorrence of monarchy are sufficiently known; they originate in principles of reason and conviction, nor, except with life, can they ever be extirpated; but my compassion for the unfortunate, whether friend or enemy, is equally lively and sincere." He then reviews the causes which brought him to trial, and pictures the deplorable condition he is in—condemns the constituent assembly, rather than the unfortunate prisoner, and then asks: "What shall be done with this man?" He has now taken his own life in his hands, when he proffers to the King of France an asylum in America. Besides, he has a duty to perform for the United States, which now he offers his own life to fulfill. He has not forgotten the great feat of young Laurens, when he touched his sword in presence of this same king, demanding that aid which made his country free and independent, and which was granted. He therefore says: "It is to France alone, I know, that the United States of America owe that support which enabled them to shake off the unjust and tyrannical yoke of Britain. The ardor and zeal which she displayed to provide men and money, were the natural consequence of a thirst for liberty. But as the nation at that time, restrained by the shackles of her own government, could only act by means of a monarchical organ, this organ, whatever in other respects the object might be, certainly performed a good, a great action. Let, then, these United States be the safeguard and asylum of Louis Capet."
Marat cries out: "Paine is a Quaker," and the benevolence of this good man is whelmed over by the fierce and bloody sentiment of revenge. This is one of the sublime deeds which give us faith in man, but which appear at such wide intervals that they mark eras in the world's history. I know of but one other which rises to such touching sublimity—it is Socrates, at the head of the Athenian Senate, refusing to put the vote demanded by the laws, religion, and united voice of his country, which would condemn to death the admirals who were unable to bury the dead that had been slain in battle. Both offered their lives that others might live, rather than be themselves unjust.
Mr. Paine, by this effort to save the king's life, lost his influence in the assembly, and he became afterward a silent member, and, in the minds of many, set apart to die. Foreigners are now expelled from the convention, and an order having passed that all persons born in England, and residing in France, should be imprisoned, he was, by order of Robespierre, arrested, and thrown into the Luxembourg. Of his narrow escapes, Mr. Paine says:
"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 Robespierre, and signed with him the warrant of my arrestation. After the fall of Robespierre, he was seized and imprisoned, 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 guillotine, and I was again left. Joel Barlow was with us when we went to prison.