Transcriber's Notes:

1. Minor punctuation and spelling errors have been corrected. A detailed [list], together with other notations appears at the end of this e-text.

2. A Table of Contents has been added by the transcriber to aid reader navigation.

3. Footnotes have been moved to Chapter ends and assigned letters instead of symbols. Cross-links are provided.

4. The APPENDIX, published separately, has been included in this e-text.

5. This book was published anonymously, however is attributed to author JOEL MOODY (1834-1914).

JUNIUS UNMASKED:

OR,

THOMAS PAINE

THE AUTHOR OF

THE LETTERS OF JUNIUS,

AND THE

DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE.

Non stat diutius nominis umbra.

WASHINGTON, D.C.:
JOHN GRAY & CO., PUBLISHERS.
1872.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by

JOHN GRAY & CO.,

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

CONTENTS

PREFACE.

One hundred years ago to-day, Junius wrote as follows:

"The man who fairly and completely answers this argument, shall have my thanks and my applause.... Grateful as I am to the good Being whose bounty has imparted to me this reasoning intellect, whatever it is, I hold myself proportionably indebted to him from whose enlightened understanding another ray of knowledge communicates to mine. But neither should I think the most exalted faculties of the human mind a gift worthy of the Divinity, nor any assistance in the improvement of them a subject of gratitude to my fellow-creatures, if I were not satisfied that really to inform the understanding corrects and enlarges the heart."

These were the concluding words of his last Letter. So say I now, and I make them the preface to an argument which now sets the great apostle of liberty right before the world. They serve, like a literary hyphen, to connect the two ages—his own with this; and the two lives—the masked with the open one; in both of which ages and lives he did good to mankind, and that mightily.

Washington, D.C., January 21, 1872.

PART I.

INTRODUCTION.

The literary work which survives a century has uncommon merit. Time has set the seal of approval upon it. It has passed its probation and entered the ages. A century has just closed upon the work of Junius. The causes which produced it, either in act or person, have long since passed away. The foolish king, the corrupt minister, and the prostituted legislature are forgotten, or only recalled to be despised; but the work of Junius, startling in thought, daring in design, bristling with satire, a consuming fire to those he attacked, remains to be admired for its principles, and to be studied for its beauty and strength.

The times in which Junius wrote were big with events. The Seven Years' War had just closed with shining victories to Prussia and England. Frederic, with an unimpaired nation and a permanent peace, it left with a good heart and much personal glory; but George III., with India and America in his hands, with the plunder of a great conquest to distribute to a greedy and licentious court, it left pious, but simple.

Great wars disturb the masses. They awaken them from the plodding, dull routine of physical labor, and, thrusting great questions of conquest and defense, of justice and honor, before them, agitate them into thought. Conditions change; new ideas take the place of old ones, and a revolution in thought and action follows. But a war of ideas, starting from principles of peace, brings the enslaved again to the sword, and this crisis is termed a revolution.

Junius wrote at the dawn of the age of revolutions. The war of ideas was waged against priestcraft, and skepticism was the result. Voltaire had struck fable from history with the pen of criticism, and a scientific method here dawned upon history. Rousseau's democracy had entered the hearts of the down-trodden in France, and, a wandering exile, he had spread the contagion in England. George Berkeley, the Irish idealist, had just died, and the Scotch Thomas Reid arose with the weapon of common sense to test the metaphysician's ideas. Common Sense was, in the strictest sense, revolutionary, and, under the tyranny of king, lords, and commons, meant war. It was not a phrase without meaning, but a principle proclaimed, and it passed more readily into the understanding of the common people because conveyed in common speech. When Reid said, "I despise philosophy, and renounce its guidance; let my soul dwell in common sense," he illuminated all Britain and America. The philosophy of common sense entered the professor's chair, invaded the pulpit, and, having passed thence into the humblest cottage, soon took a higher range—it went immediately up and knocked at the king's gate. It would be false to say it found admittance there. It was only because there had been a new world opened as an asylum for the oppressed of every land, that it did not sweep kings and monarchs from all the high places in Europe.

At this time, too, Mr. Pitt, the great commoner, the friend of common sense and English liberty, in his old age, war-worn and sick, had compromised with his vanity for a title. In his great fall from Pitt to Chatham, from the people to a peerage, he gained nothing but lost his good name. He exchanged worth for a bauble, and a noble respect for the contempt of nobles and the sorrows of the people. Mr. Pitt had departed, Lord Chatham was passing away; and in any assault by a trafficking ministry and corrupt legislature upon the people's rights, there was no one left to bend the bow at the gates.

To tax the colonies became the settled plan of king, ministers, and parliament. The tax was easily imposed, but could not be enforced. Freedom had long before been driven to America, and, in a line of direct descent, her blood had been transmitted from mother to son. The true sons of freedom now stood shoulder to shoulder, and, looking forward to independence, claimed to have rights as men, which king and lords would not concede to subjects. The Stamp Act was passed and repealed, and a Test Act substituted. England refused to compel the colonies to give up their money without their consent, but menaced them, and consoled herself with these words: "The king in parliament hath full power to bind the colonies in all things whatsoever." Having surrendered the fact, she indulged in declamation, and the world laughed at her folly. Like a fretful and stupid mother demanding a favor of her son grown to manhood, and, being refused, persists in scolding and shaking the fist at him, as if he still wore a baby's frock.

At this juncture Junius wrote his Letters. The circumstances called him forth. He was a child of fate. He spoke to the greatest personages, assaulted the strongest power, and advocated the rights of man before the highest tribunal then acknowledged on earth. This he could not do openly, and what he said came as with the power of a hidden god. There is no evidence that Junius ever revealed himself. "I am the sole depository of my own secret, and it shall perish with me." This he said and religiously kept. But his was the age which demanded it. He also said: "Whenever Junius appears, he must encounter a host of enemies." One hundred years have passed since he said this, but this "host" is less to be feared now than when he wrote. No one now can injure him, and there are few who would assault his grave. It is time to unmask Junius, and though still to be hated, I will reveal the enemy of kings and the friend of man. The reforms he advocated for England are partly accomplished, and the principles he taught, if not adopted there, have been established in America. He left no child to bear his name, but he was the father of a nation. The unimpaired inheritance was his thoughts and principles; these he transmitted, not alone to this nation, but to the world—for the world was his country.

METHOD.

In the investigation of a subject so startling and novel, and especially when it leads to the criticism of a work which has found favor with the public, and now to be attributed to an author who has been publicly condemned, it becomes the critic to state clearly the plan of his argument, what he designs to do, and how he intends to do it. I therefore ask: Who was Junius? I answer: Thomas Paine. The object of this book is to prove this, and possibly to demonstrate it. To do this, I shall follow as closely as possible the order of events, giving parallels and coincidences in character, conduct, and composition of the masked and the open life.

I do not fear as to the proof of my proposition, but I shall aim higher, I shall try to demonstrate by the overwhelming weight of facts. Proof produces belief, demonstration knowledge. The innocent have been hanged on the evidence of proof, but a fact is established by demonstration. Demonstration follows proof, and knowledge follows belief; and ascending from the individual to mankind, we find the age of reason to succeed the age of faith. Science dwells in demonstration, and establishes principles from observed facts. Why may there not be a scientific criticism? To arrive at this the writer must ascend to that eminence in feeling where the opposing prejudices of mankind can not reach him; he must rise above praise or censure, he must dwell alone in the light of reason, he must be a child of Truth. Vain, however, would it be to expect to find himself or a public devoid of prejudice. This is impossible, for prejudice is produced by strong conviction. It is a feeling which, like a magnet, points as the electric force directs. To counteract this force is to destroy the magnet. It is those who think deeply, and have investigated thoroughly, who have an enlightened prejudice, and those who take upon authority what others tell them, who have a blind prejudice; but those who neither think nor investigate for themselves may truly be said to have no prejudice. My object is to convince the understanding and thereby build up a prejudice in favor of my proposition, which shall have a foundation of fact and argument, not to be removed, and to be but little disturbed. The world is my jury, they shall decide upon the facts. Lord Bacon gave the world a method, this method is also mine: Let facts reveal the inward truth of nature.

MYSTERY.

There is a scarcity of facts, a painful obscurity connected with that part of Mr. Paine's life before he removed to America. In fact, history has given him to the world, as almost beginning life on his arrival at Philadelphia, near the close of the year 1774. At this time, in the full stature of manhood, a little less than forty years of age, we find him without a personal history, without any events in life sufficient to predicate his after life upon. Can the great life to come rest on nothing? How came that mighty mind so fully stored with history, so deeply analytic, so skilled in literature and science, so perfect in the art of expressing ideas, so highly disciplined and finely equipped, ready to do battle against kings and ministers and in behalf of human rights? Whence came that mighty pen, which has often been acknowledged to have done more for human freedom than the sword of Washington? Why this dumb silence of history? There comes to us no thought of Mr. Paine worth recording prior to this time. The proud and imposing superstructure stands on a basis fit and substantial, but it rises out of the depths of mystery. And what little we do know of him prior to this time, aside from the great fact of his birth, is only a series of minor facts, with great blanks not even capable of being filled up by the imagination.

When a lad he went to school, but how long he went, or with what proficiency he studied, nobody knows. At sixteen he went aboard a privateer, but how long he served, or what made him quit the service, nobody knows. At twenty-seven he enters the employ of the English government as an exciseman, but was dismissed in a little over a year, nobody knows why. He now teaches school in London a year, but nobody knows with what success, or what were his accomplishments. He now quits London and letters, and the society of the learned, to return to the same petty office from which he had been dismissed, and for the trifling salary of less than fifty pounds a year. This office he now holds eight years more. Only a solitary ray of light illuminates this long period, when in the full tide of life. The chronicler renders it insignificant by a single dash of the pen. It is closed with another dismissal and dismal mystery. He now forever separates from his wife upon amicable terms, nobody knows why. During their after lives they neither of them marry, and never speak disrespectfully of each other. He leaves her all the property, and often sends her money during his after life. This obscure and twice dismissed English exciseman, it is said, now goes to talk with Benjamin Franklin, minister at the court of St. James, for several of the colonies; and, by what means nobody knows, obtains letters of the highest commendation, as an introduction to America, from her greatest and most honored citizen. A few months afterward Benjamin Franklin places in the hands of Mr. Paine important documents, for him to write a history of the political troubles and a defense of the colonies. A mighty work, worthy of a greater than Franklin! These facts stagger credulity. An obscure English exciseman, whose life is yet a blank, who has never been an author, save perhaps of some fugitive pamphlet to demand more pay for excise officers, is introduced to America, and is solicited and intrusted by America's greatest writer, thinker, patriot, and statesman, to do America's greatest work, and that work, too, which shall decide forever the fate of a world. Franklin! by what mysterious gift of divination hast thou found thy man? Is there no child of America among all the sons of Freedom equal to the task? Where art thou thyself? But the man Franklin found had no need of books or his documents. This obscure Englishman had the facts in his memory, the wrongs in his heart, the logic in his reason, and he thought for himself. His work was half written before Franklin had furnished him with the "necessary papers," and as a New Year's gift surprised the learned doctor with the first pamphlet of Common Sense.

The appearance of this greatest of political works which has blessed a world, with all the attending circumstances—the obscure life of Paine, the few wild events connected with it, the unprecedented action of Franklin, the introduction to the world of a profound thinker and almost perfect writer in the full ripeness of his intellect, and the beginning of an unceasing brilliant literary life at its meridian, are mysteries, save in this instance, unknown to history. Common Sense is a child of mystery. It is the best of this great author's productions. He himself so considered it, for he directs that his tombstone shall bear the simple inscription, Thomas Paine, author of Common Sense.

That Thomas Paine should have lived an easy, idle life, without any great effort in thought, study, or composition, for fifteen years immediately preceding the appearance of Common Sense, is what no writer, or thinker, or student, or statesman will believe. Great works of genius do not come in this way, much less profound political writings. Even inspiration would desert the connection. And that the proud, ambitious, literary adventurer, who shall dedicate his life to the good of mankind, who shall wrest the power from priests and the scepter from kings, should content himself to fill a poor and petty office under a king he despised, without some nobler object in view, and at that age too when the mind of man is the most aspiring, and drives to the greatest activity, is what no one who knows the heart of man, and the secret springs of action, will believe. But if it can be proven that Thomas Paine was Junius, then will every blank be filled and every mystery dispelled.

There is no external evidence, direct in its nature, as to the authorship of Junius; the evidence is internal. That the secret did not perish with Junius, no one can gainsay. But that he told it to no one, we are not at liberty to conclude. Time has sufficiently removed us from the scene of conflict. We are not bewildered with a multitude of claimants, with an army of witnesses for and against; nor are we disturbed by the clamors of the public, and the hearsay evidence of belligerant. In this universal calm I will bring Junius forth to speak for himself.

STATEMENT.

The time occupied in writing the Letters of Junius was just three years. The first one is dated January 21, 1769, and the last one January 21, 1772. They were written for the Public Advertiser, a newspaper printed in London, and were afterward revised and corrected by Junius. The edition which he corrected "contains all the letters of Junius, Philo Junius, and of Sir William Draper, and Mr. Horne to Junius, with their respective dates, and according to the order in which they appeared in the Public Advertiser." There are sixty-nine in all. Of these, Junius wrote sixty-one; thirty the first year, six the second, and twenty-five the third year. In these Letters Junius frequently defends himself over the signature of Philo Junius, which he deemed indispensably necessary in answer to plausible objections. On this point Junius observes: "The subordinate character is never guilty of the indecorum of praising his principal. The fraud was innocent, and I always intended to explain it." These letters were an attack upon the king and ministry, and a defense of the people, whose original rights had been invaded. If Thomas Paine wrote them, he was then an exciseman stationed at Lewes, about forty miles south of London, and was just thirty-five years old when he completed them.

I will now introduce to the reader Junius himself through his first letter, which was one of his most finished productions, and contains the germs of all the rest. I will give also the comments of Chauncey A. Goodrich, D.D., formerly professor of Rhetoric in Yale College. These comments are to be found in the doctor's work, entitled British Eloquence. I do this for two reasons: to let the reader see what high value is placed on Junius by the learned who teach eloquence by example, and also that he may see the object, method, and style of Junius. I shall afterward add my own comments on the doctor's notes, setting him right when in error in matters of fact. This will fully open the question and prepare the reader for my argument.

LETTER

TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.[A]

Sir,—The submission of a free people to the executive authority of government is no more than a compliance with laws which they themselves have enacted. While the national honor is firmly maintained abroad, and while justice is impartially administered at home, the obedience of the subject will be voluntary, cheerful, and, I might say, almost unlimited. A generous nation is grateful even for the preservation of its rights, and willingly extends the respect due to the office of a good prince into an affection for his person. Loyalty, in the heart and understanding of an Englishman, is a rational attachment to the guardian of the laws. Prejudices and passion have sometimes carried it to a criminal length, and, whatever foreigners may imagine, we know that Englishmen have erred as much in a mistaken zeal for particular persons and families, as they ever did in defense of what they thought most dear and interesting to themselves.

It naturally fills us with resentment to see such a temper insulted and abused.[B] In reading the history of a free people, whose rights have been invaded, we are interested in their cause. Our own feelings tell us how long they ought to have submitted, and at what moment it would have been treachery to themselves not to have resisted. How much warmer will be our resentment, if experience should bring the fatal example home to ourselves!

The situation of this country is alarming enough to rouse the attention of every man who pretends to a concern for the public welfare. Appearances justify suspicion; and, when the safety of a nation is at stake, suspicion is a just ground of inquiry. Let us enter into it with candor and decency. Respect is due to the station of ministers; and if a resolution must at last be taken, there is none so likely to be supported with firmness as that which has been adopted with moderation.

The ruin or prosperity of a state depends so much upon the administration of its government, that, to be acquainted with the merit of a ministry, we need only observe the condition of the people. If we see them obedient to the laws, prosperous in their industry, united at home, and respected abroad, we may reasonably presume that their affairs are conducted by men of experience, abilities, and virtue. If, on the contrary, we see a universal spirit of distrust and dissatisfaction, a rapid decay of trade, dissensions in all parts of the empire, and a total loss of respect in the eyes of foreign powers, we may pronounce, without hesitation, that the government of that country is weak, distracted, and corrupt. The multitude, in all countries, are patient to a certain point. Ill usage may rouse their indignation and hurry them into excesses, but the original fault is in government.[C] Perhaps there never was an instance of a change in the circumstances and temper of a whole nation, so sudden and extraordinary as that which the misconduct of ministers has, within these very few years, produced in Great Britain. When our gracious sovereign ascended the throne, we were a flourishing and a contented people. If the personal virtues of a king could have insured the happiness of his subjects, the scene could not have altered so entirely as it has done. The idea of uniting all parties, of trying all characters, and distributing the offices of state by rotation, was gracious and benevolent to an extreme, though it has not yet produced the many salutary effects which were intended by it. To say nothing of the wisdom of such plan, it undoubtedly arose from an unbounded goodness of heart, in which folly had no share. It was not a capricious partiality to new faces; it was not a natural turn for low intrigue, nor was it the treacherous amusement of double and triple negotiations. No, sir; it arose from a continued anxiety in the purest of all possible hearts for the general welfare.[D] Unfortunately for us, the event has not been answerable to the design. After a rapid succession of changes, we are reduced to that change which hardly any change can mend. Yet there is no extremity of distress which of itself ought to reduce a great nation to despair. It is not the disorder, but the physician; it is not a casual concurrence of calamitous circumstances, it is the pernicious hand of government, which alone can make a whole people desperate.

Without much political sagacity, or any extraordinary depth of observation, we need only mark how the principal departments of the state are bestowed [distributed], and look no farther for the true cause of every mischief that befalls us.

The finances of a nation, sinking under its debts and expenses, are committed to a young nobleman already ruined by play.[E] Introduced to act under the auspices of Lord Chatham, and left at the head of affairs by that nobleman's retreat, he became a minister by accident; but, deserting the principles and professions which gave him a moment's popularity, we see him, from every honorable engagement to the public, an apostate by design. As for business, the world yet knows nothing of his talents or resolution, unless a wavering, wayward inconsistency be a mark of genius, and caprice a demonstration of spirit. It may be said, perhaps, that it is his Grace's province, as surely as it is his passion, rather to distribute than to save the public money, and that while Lord North is Chancellor of the Exchequer, the first Lord of the Treasury may be as thoughtless and extravagant as he pleases. I hope, however, he will not rely too much on the fertility of Lord North's genius for finance. His Lordship is yet to give us the first proof of his abilities.

It may be candid to suppose that he has hitherto voluntarily concealed his talents; intending, perhaps, to astonish the world, when we least expect it, with a knowledge of trade, a choice of expedients, and a depth of resources equal to the necessities, and far beyond the hopes of his country. He must now exert the whole power of his capacity, if he would wish us to forget that, since he has been in office, no plan has been formed, no system adhered to, nor any one important measure adopted for the relief of public credit. If his plan for the service of the current year be not irrevocably fixed on, let me warn him to think seriously of consequences before he ventures to increase the public debt. Outraged and oppressed as we are, this nation will not bear, after a six years' peace, to see new millions borrowed, without any eventual diminution of debt or reduction of interest. The attempt might rouse a spirit of resentment, which might reach beyond the sacrifice of a minister. As to the debt upon the civil list, the people of England expect that it will not be paid without a strict inquiry how it was incurred.[F] If it must be paid by Parliament, let me advise the Chancellor of the Exchequer to think of some better expedient than a lottery. To support an expensive war, or in circumstances of absolute necessity, a lottery may perhaps be allowable; but, besides that it is at all times the very worst way of raising money upon the people, I think it ill becomes the royal dignity to have the debts of a prince provided for, like the repairs of a country bridge or a decayed hospital. The management of the king's affairs in the House of Commons can not be more disgraced than it has been. A leading minister repeatedly called down for absolute ignorance—ridiculous motions ridiculously withdrawn—deliberate plans disconcerted, and a week's preparation of graceful oratory lost in a moment, give us some, though not an adequate idea of Lord North's parliamentary abilities and influence.[G] Yet, before he had the misfortune of being Chancellor of the Exchequer, he was neither an object of derision to his enemies, nor of melancholy pity to his friends.

A series of inconsistent measures has alienated the colonies from their duty as subjects and from their natural affection to their common country. When Mr. Grenville was placed at the head of the treasury, he felt the impossibility of Great Britain's supporting such an establishment as her former successes had made indispensable, and, at the same time, of giving any sensible relief to foreign trade and to the weight of the public debt. He thought it equitable that those parts of the empire which had benefited most by the expenses of the war, should contribute something to the expenses of the peace, and he had no doubt of the constitutional right vested in Parliament to raise the contribution. But, unfortunately for this country, Mr. Grenville was at any rate to be distressed because he was minister, and Mr. Pitt and Lord Camden were to be patrons of America, because they were in opposition. Their declaration gave spirit and argument to the colonies; and while, perhaps, they meant no more than the ruin of a minister, they in effect divided one-half of the empire from the other.[H]

Under one administration the Stamp Act is made, under the second it is repealed, under the third, in spite of all experience, a new mode of taxing the colonies is invented, and a question revived, which ought to have been buried in oblivion. In these circumstances, a new office is established for the business of the Plantations, and the Earl of Hillsborough called forth, at a most critical season, to govern America. The choice at least announced to us a man of superior capacity and knowledge. Whether he be so or not, let his dispatches as far as they have appeared, let his measures as far as they have operated, determine for him. In the former we have seen strong assertions without proof, declamation without argument, and violent censures without dignity or moderation, but neither correctness in the composition, nor judgment in the design. As for his measures, let it be remembered that he was called upon to conciliate and unite, and that, when he entered into office, the most refractory of the colonies were still disposed to proceed by the constitutional methods of petition and remonstrance. Since that period they have been driven into excesses little short of rebellion. Petitions have been hindered from reaching the throne, and the continuance of one of the principal assemblies put upon an arbitrary condition, which, considering the temper they were in, it was impossible they should comply with, and which would have availed nothing as to the general question if it had been complied with.[I] So violent, and I believe I may call it so unconstitutional an exertion of the prerogative, to say nothing of the weak, injudicious terms in which it was conveyed, gives us as humble an opinion of his Lordship's capacity as it does of his temper and moderation. While we are at peace with other nations, our military force may perhaps be spared to support the Earl of Hillsborough's measures in America. Whenever that force shall be necessarily withdrawn or diminished, the dismission of such a minister will neither console us for his imprudence, nor remove the settled resentment of a people, who, complaining of an act of the legislature, are outraged by an unwarrantable stretch of prerogative, and, supporting their claims by argument, are insulted with declamation.

Drawing lots would be a prudent and reasonable method of appointing the officers of state, compared to a late disposition of the secretary's office. Lord Rochford was acquainted with the affairs and temper of the Southern courts; Lord Weymouth was equally qualified for either department. By what unaccountable caprice has it happened, that the latter, who pretends to no experience whatsoever, is removed to the most important of the two departments, and the former, by preference, placed in an office where his experience can be of no use to him?[J] Lord Weymouth had distinguished himself in his first employment by a spirited, if not judicious conduct. He had animated the civil magistrate beyond the tone of civil authority, and had directed the operations of the army to more than military execution. Recovered from the errors of his youth, from the distraction of play, and the bewitching smiles of Burgundy, behold him exerting the whole strength of his clear, unclouded faculties in the service of the crown. It was not the heat of midnight excesses, nor ignorance of the laws, nor the furious spirit of the house of Bedford; no, sir; when this respectable minister interposed his authority between the magistrate and the people, and signed the mandate on which, for aught he knew, the lives of thousands depended, he did it from the deliberate motion of his heart, supported by the best of his judgment.[K]

It has lately been a fashion to pay a compliment to the bravery and generosity of the Commander-in-chief [the Marquess of Granby] at the expense of his understanding. They who love him least make no question of his courage, while his friends dwell chiefly on the facility of his disposition. Admitting him to be as brave as a total absence of all feeling and reflection can make him, let us see what sort of merit he derives from the remainder of his character. If it be generosity to accumulate in his own person and family a number of lucrative employments; to provide, at the public expense, for every creature that bears the name of Manners; and, neglecting the merit and services of the rest of the army, to heap promotions upon his favorites and dependents, the present Commander-in-chief is the most generous man alive. Nature has been sparing of her gifts to this noble lord; but where birth and fortune are united, we expect the noble pride and independence of a man of spirit, not the servile, humiliating complaisance of a courtier. As to the goodness of his heart, if a proof of it be taken from the facility of never refusing, what conclusion shall we draw from the indecency of never performing? And if the discipline of the army be in any degree preserved, what thanks are due to a man whose cares, notoriously confined to filling up vacancies, have degraded the office of Commander-in-chief into [that of] a broker of commissions.[L]

With respect to the navy, I shall only say that this country is so highly indebted to Sir Edward Hawke, that no expense should be spared to secure him an honorable and affluent retreat.

The pure and impartial administration of justice is perhaps the firmest bond to secure a cheerful submission of the people, and to engage their affections to government. It is not sufficient that questions of private right or wrong are justly decided, nor that judges are superior to the vileness of pecuniary corruption. Jeffries himself, when the court had no interest, was an upright judge. A court of justice may be subject to another sort of bias, more important and pernicious, as it reaches beyond the interest of individuals and affects the whole community. A judge, under the influence of government, may be honest enough in the decision of private causes, yet a traitor to the public. When a victim is marked out by the ministry, this judge will offer himself to perform the sacrifice. He will not scruple to prostitute his dignity, and betray the sanctity of his office, whenever an arbitrary point is to be carried for government, or the resentment of a court to be gratified.

These principles and proceedings, odious and contemptible as they are, in effect are no less injudicious. A wise and generous people are roused by every appearance of oppressive, unconstitutional measures, whether those measures are supported openly by the power of government, or masked under the forms of a court of justice. Prudence and self-preservation will oblige the most moderate dispositions to make common cause, even with a man whose conduct they censure, if they see him persecuted in a way which the real spirit of the laws will not justify. The facts on which these remarks are founded are too notorious to require an application.[M]

This, sir, is the detail. In one view, behold a nation overwhelmed with debt; her revenues wasted; her trade declining; the affections of her colonies alienated; the duty of the magistrate transferred to the soldiery; a gallant army, which never fought unwillingly but against their fellow-subjects, moldering away for want of the direction of a man of common abilities and spirit; and, in the last instance, the administration of justice become odious and suspected to the whole body of the people. This deplorable scene admits of but one addition—that we are governed by counsels, from which a reasonable man can expect no remedy but poison, no relief but death. If, by the immediate interposition of Providence, it were [be] possible for us to escape a crisis so full of terror and despair, posterity will not believe the history of the present times. They will either conclude that our distresses were imaginary, or that we had the good fortune to be governed by men of acknowledged integrity and wisdom. They will not believe it possible that their ancestors could have survived or recovered from so desperate a condition, while a Duke of Grafton was Prime Minister, a Lord North Chancellor of the Exchequer, a Weymouth and a Hillsborough Secretaries of State, a Granby Commander-in-chief, and a Mansfield chief criminal judge of the kingdom.

Junius.

DOCTORS NOTES:

[A] 1. Dated January 21, 1769. There is a great regularity in the structure of this letter. The first two paragraphs contain the exordium. The transition follows in the third paragraph, leading to the main proposition, which is contained in the fourth, viz., "that the existing discontent and disasters of the nation were justly chargeable on the king and ministry." The next eight paragraphs are intended to give the proof of the proposition, by reviewing the chief departments of government, and endeavoring to show the incompetency or mal-administration of the men to whom they were intrusted. A recapitulation follows in the last paragraph but one, leading to a restatement of the proposition in still broader terms. This is strengthened in the conclusion by the remark, that if the nation should escape from its desperate condition through some signal interposition of Divine Providence, posterity would not believe the history of the times, or consider it possible that England should have survived a crisis "so full of terror and despair."

[B] 2. We have here the starting point of the exordium, as it lay originally in the mind of Junius, viz., that the English nation was "insulted and abused" by the king and ministers. But this was too strong a statement to be brought out abruptly. Junius therefore went back, and prepared the way by showing in successive sentences, (1.) Why a free people obey the laws—"because they have themselves enacted them." (2.) That this obedience is ordinarily cheerful, and almost unlimited. (3.) That such obedience to the guardian of the laws naturally leads to a strong affection for his person. (4.) That this affection (as shown in their history) had often been excessive among the English, who were, in fact, peculiarly liable to a "mistaken zeal for particular persons and families." Hence they were equally liable (this is not said, but implied) to have their loyalty imposed upon; and therefore the feeling then so prevalent was well founded, that the king in his rash counsels and reckless choice of ministers, must have been taking advantage of the generous confidence of his people, and playing on the easiness of their temper. If so, they were indeed insulted and abused. The exordium, then, is a complete chain of logical deduction, and the case is fully made out, provided the popular feeling referred to was correct. And here we see where the fallacy of Junius lies, whenever he is in the wrong. It is in taking for granted one of the steps of his reasoning. He does not, in this case, even mention the feeling alluded to, in direct terms. He knew it was beating in the hearts of the people; his whole preceding train of thought was calculated to justify and inflame it, and he therefore leaps at once to the conclusion it involves, and addresses them as actually filled with resentment "to see such a temper insulted and abused." The feeling, in this instance, was to a great extent well founded, and so far his logic is complete. In other cases his assumption is a false one. He lays hold of some slander of the day, some distorted statement of facts, some maxim which is only half true, some prevailing passion or prejudice, and dexterously intermingling them with a train of thought which in every other respect is logical and just, he hurries the mind to a conclusion which seems necessarily involved in the premises. Hardly any writer has so much art and plausibility in thus misleading the mind.

[C] 3. Here is the central idea of the letter—the proposition to be proved in respect to the king and his ministers. The former part of this paragraph contains the major premise, the remainder the minor down to the last sentence, which brings out the conclusion in emphatic terms. In order to strengthen the minor, which was the most important premise, he rapidly contrasts the condition of England before and after the king ascended the throne. In doing this, he dilates on those errors of the king which led to, and which account for, so remarkable a change. Thus the conclusion is made doubly strong. This union of severe logic with the finest rhetorical skill in filling out the premises and giving them their utmost effect, furnishes an excellent model for the student in oratory.

[D] 4. In this attack on the king, there is a refined artifice, rarely if ever equaled, in leading the mind gradually forward from the slightest possible insinuation to the bitterest irony. First we have the "uniting of all parties," which is proper and desirable; next "trying all characters," which suggests decidedly a want of judgment; then "distributing the offices of state by rotation," a charge rendered plausible, at least, by the frequent changes of ministers, and involving (if true) a weakness little short of absolute fatuity. The way being thus prepared, what was first insinuated is now openly expressed in the next sentence. The word "folly" is applied to the conduct of the king of England in the face of his subjects, and the application rendered doubly severe by the gravest irony. Still, there is one relief. Allusion is made to his "unbounded goodness of heart," from which, in the preceding chain of insinuations, these errors of judgment had been deduced. The next sentence takes this away. It directly ascribes to the king, with an increased severity of ironical denial, some of the meanest passions of royalty, "a capricious partiality for new faces," a "natural love of low intrigue," "the treacherous amusement of double and triple negotiations!" It is unnecessary to remark on the admirable precision and force of the language in these expressions, and, indeed, throughout the whole passage. There had been just enough in the king's conduct, for the last seven years, to make the people suspect all this, and to weaken or destroy their affection for the crown. It was all connected with that system of favoritism introduced by Lord Bute, which the nation so much abhorred. Nothing but this would have made them endure for a moment such an attack on their monarch, and especially the absolute mockery with which Junius concludes the whole, by speaking of "the anxiety of the purest of all possible hearts for the general welfare!" His entire Letter to the king, with all the rancor ascribed to it by Burke, does not contain so much bitterness and insult as are concentrated in this single passage. While we can not but condemn its spirit, we are forced to acknowledge that there is in this and many other passages of Junius, a rhetorical skill in the evolution of thought which was never surpassed by Demosthenes.

[E] 5. The Duke of Grafton, first Lord of the Treasury. It is unnecessary to remark on the dexterity of connecting with this mention of a treasury, "sinking under its debts and expenses," the idea of its head being a gambler loaded with his own debts, and liable continually to new distresses and temptations from his love of play. The thought is wisely left here. The argument which it implies would be weakened by any attempt to expand it. Junius often reminds us of the great Athenian orator, in thus striking a single blow, and then passing on to some other subject, as he does here to the apostasy of the Duke of Grafton, his inconsistency, caprice, and irresolution.

[F] 6. Within about seven years, the king had run up a debt of £513,000 beyond the ample allowance made for his expenses on the civil list, and had just applied, at the opening of Parliament, for a grant to pay it off. The nation were indignant at such overreaching. The debt, however, was paid this session, and in a few years there was another contracted. Thus it went on, from time to time, until 1782, when £300,000 more were paid, in addition to a large sum during the interval. At this time a partial provision was made, in connection with Mr. Burke's plan of economical reform, for preventing all future encroachments of this kind on the public revenues.

[G] 7. Notwithstanding these early difficulties, Lord North became at last a very dexterous and effective debater.

[H] 8. This attack on Lord Chatham and his friend shows the political affinities of Junius. He believed with Mr. Grenville and Lord Rockingham in the right of Great Britain to tax America; and in referring to Mr. Grenville's attempt to enforce that right by the Stamp Act, he adopts his usual course of interweaving an argument in its favor into the language used.[1] He thus prepares the way for his censures on Lord Chatham and Lord Camden, affirming that they acted on the principle that "Mr. Grenville was at any rate to be distressed because he was minister and they were in opposition," thus implying that they were actuated by factious and selfish views in their defense of America. About a year after this letter was written, Lord Rockingham was reconciled to Lord Chatham and Lord Camden, and all united to break down the Grafton ministry. Junius now turned round and wrote his celebrated eulogium on Lord Chatham, contained in his fifty-fourth letter, in which he says, "Recorded honors shall gather round his monument, and thicken over him. It is a solid fabric, and will support the laurels that adorn it. I am not conversant in the language of panegyric. These praises are extorted from me; but they will wear well, for they have been dearly earned." The last of his letters was addressed to Lord Camden, in which he says, "I turn with pleasure from that barren waste, in which no salutary plant takes root, no verdure quickens, to a character fertile, as I willingly believe, in every great and good qualification." Political men have certainly a peculiar faculty of viewing the characters of others under very different lights, as they happen to affect their own interests and feelings.[2]

[I] 9. The "arbitrary condition" was that the General Court of Massachusetts should rescind one of their own resolutions and expunge it from their records. The whole of this passage in relation to Hillsborough is as correct in point of fact, as it is well reasoned and finely expressed.

[J] 10. The changes here censured had taken place about three months before. The office of Foreign Secretary for the Southern Department was made vacant by the resignation of Lord Shelburne.[3] Lord Rochford, who had been minister to France, and thus made "acquainted with the temper of the Southern courts," ought naturally to have been appointed (if at all) to this department. Instead of this he was made Secretary of the Northern Department, for which he had been prepared by no previous knowledge; while Lord Weymouth was taken from the Home Department, and placed in the Southern, being "equally qualified" [that is, wholly unqualified by any "experience whatsoever">[ for either department in the Foreign office, whether Southern or Northern.

[K] 11. As Secretary of the Home Department, Lord Weymouth had addressed a letter to the magistrates of London, early in 1768, advising them to call in the military, provided certain disturbances in the streets should continue. The idea of setting the soldiery to fire on masses of unarmed men has always been abhorrent to the English nation. It was, therefore, a case admirably suited to the purposes of this Letter. In using it to inflame the people against Lord Weymouth, Junius charitably supposes that he was not repeating the errors of his youth—that he was neither drunk, nor ignorant of what he did, nor impelled by "the furious spirit" of one of the proudest families of the realm—all of which Lord Weymouth would certainly say—and therefore (which his Lordship must also admit) that he did, from "the deliberate motion of his heart, supported by the best of his judgment," sign a paper which the great body of the people considered as authorizing promiscuous murder, and which actually resulted in the death of fourteen persons three weeks after. The whole is so wrought up as to create the feeling, that Lord Weymouth was in both of these states of mind—that he acted with deliberation in carrying out the dictates of headlong or drunken passion.

All this, of course, is greatly exaggerated. Severe measures did seem indispensable to suppress the mobs of that day, and, whoever stood forth to direct them, must of necessity incur the popular indignation. Still, it was a question among the most candid men, whether milder means might not have been effectual.

[L] 12. The Marquess of Granby, personally considered, was perhaps the most popular member of the cabinet, with the exception of Sir Edward Hawke. He was a warm-hearted man, of highly social qualities and generous feelings. As it was the object of Junius to break down the ministry, it was peculiarly necessary for him to blast and destroy his popularity. This he attempts to do by discrediting the character of the marquess, as a man of firmness, strength of mind, and disinterestedness in managing the concerns of the army. This attack is distinguished for its plausibility and bitterness. It is clear that Junius was in some way connected with the army or with the War Department, and that in this situation he had not only the means of very exact information, but some private grudge against the Commander-in-chief.[4] His charges and insinuations are greatly overstrained; but it is certain that the army was moldering away at this time in a manner which left the country in a very defenseless condition. Lord Chatham showed this by incontestible evidence, in his speech on the Falkland Islands, delivered about a year after this Letter was written.

[M] 13. It is unnecessary to say that Lord Mansfield is here pointed at. No one now believes that this great jurist ever did the things here ascribed to him by Junius.[5] All that is true is, that he was a very high Tory, and was, therefore, naturally led to exalt the prerogatives of the crown; and that he was a very politic man (and this was the great failing in his character), and therefore unwilling to oppose the king or his ministers, when he knew in heart they were wrong. This was undoubtedly the case in respect to the issuing of a general warrant for apprehending Wilkes, which he ought publicly to have condemned; but, as he remained silent, men naturally considered him, in his character of Chief Justice, as having approved of the course directed by the king. Hence Mansfield was held responsible for the treatment of Wilkes, of whom Junius here speaks in very nearly the terms used by Lord Chatham, as a man whose "conduct" he censured, but with whom every moderate man must "make common cause," when he was "persecuted in a way which the real spirit of the laws will not justify."

COMMENTS ON THE DOCTOR'S NOTES.

[Note 8], p. 28. (1.) The doctor is here in error. In no place does Junius use language which can even be distorted into an argument in favor of enforcing the right to tax America. He here attacks the opposition or minority because they had from selfish motives divided one-half of the empire from the other. He states the views of Mr. Grenville on the subject of taxing the colonies, but not his own. Elsewhere, however, he does, and this is his language: "Junius considers the right of taxing the colonies by an act of the British Legislature as a speculative right merely, never to be exerted, nor ever to be renounced."—Let. 63. But Camden and Pitt denied the right.—Bancroft, vol. v., pp. 395, 403. Junius stood between the two parties in regard to taxing the colonies, hence could not be a partisan.

[(2.)] Here again is an error. Rockingham and Chatham led the two wings of the minority. The former was in favor of septennial, the latter of triennial parliaments.—Let. 52. Herein Junius agreed with Chatham, and hence could not be a partisan of Rockingham.—Let. 53. But because Junius eulogized Chatham, he was said to be a partisan of Chatham, which he afterwards contradicts when he compiled his letters, in a note to the name of Mr. Pitt in his first letter, and is as follows: "And yet Junius has been called the partisan of Lord Chatham." In Letter 53, Junius denies partisanship to both. Neither did he agree with Lord Camden, and mildly censures him for his action.—Let. 59. Junius was never a partisan, as will be fully proven hereafter. This shows how limited a knowledge the doctor had of Junius, and also how unfit to comment on these matters of fact. He had not even caught the design or spirit of Junius. He was advocating the cause of the people and not the cause of any party or faction.

[Note 10], p. 31. (3.) Shelburne was dismissed; he did not resign. This is a grave error in the doctor, when the conduct of king and ministers is the theme, and when we are studying the motives and character of the writer. As I wish to excite inquiry, in the mind of the reader, to lead him to a just method of criticism and investigation, I will briefly state how I detected even so apparently trifling a mistake as the above. The first sentence of the paragraph is as follows: "Drawing lots would be a prudent and reasonable method of appointing the officers of state compared to a late disposition of the secretary's office." After reading this, and then the note, it occurred to me that the king should not be so severely censured for any mistake in judgment in filling an office suddenly left vacant by a resignation. If the writer did so he was malignant, and ought to be condemned by all liberal-minded and good people. And after having studied thoroughly the character of Mr. Paine, for I now supposed him to be the author, I said: although the language is his, the spirit is not. I confess this staggered me not a little, but in a few moments I regained myself, after reading these lines from Bancroft's History, vol. vi., pp. 214, 215, 216: "Yielding to the daily importunities of the king, Grafton prepared to dismiss Shelburne.... Shelburne was removed. The resignation of Chatham instantly followed.... The removal of Shelburne opened the cabinet to the ignorant and incapable Earl of Rochford, who owed his selection to the mediocrity of his talents and the impossibility of finding a secretary of state more thoroughly submissive." This was satisfactory to me. What was evidence against my hypothesis by the note of Doctor Goodrich, was evidence in favor of it when the facts were known. This shows how careless men become who do not have in view a scientific method, and who do not search after the soul of things, but content themselves with a superficial reading. I would here warn the reader to question the statement of any writer which does not come with more than a plausible degree of truth. The day of historic fable is past. History is a science. The man of science takes but little on authority not capable of proof, and it is through this scientific method that the humblest mind, capable of rational judgment, becomes supreme over itself.

[Note 12], p. 34. (4.) That Junius had a private grudge against Lord Granby, is an affirmation not supported by the facts. Junius himself says, in a note to Letter 7: "The death of Lord Granby was lamented by Junius. He undoubtedly owed some compensations to the public, and seemed determined to acquit himself of them. In private life he was unquestionably that good man, who, for the interest of his country, ought to have been a great one. I speak of him now without partiality. I never spoke of him with resentment. His mistakes in public conduct did not arise either from want of sentiment, or want of judgment, but in general from the difficulty of saying no to the bad people who surrounded him."

[Note 13], p. 36. (5.) To which I reply: every student of history does believe just the things ascribed to Lord Mansfield by Junius, and as the doctor has given us no authority in support of his rash affirmation, I will dismiss him to the tender mercies of those who will search for themselves.

ESTIMATE OF JUNIUS, BY MR. BURKE.[A]

How comes this Junius to have broke through the cobwebs of the law, and to range uncontrolled, unpunished, through the land? The myrmidons of the court have been long, and are still, pursuing him in vain. They will not spend their time upon me, or you, or you. No; they disdain such vermin, when the mighty boar of the forest that has broken through all their toils, is before them. But what will all their efforts avail? No sooner has he wounded one than he lays another dead at his feet. For my part, when I saw his attack upon the king, I own my blood ran cold. I thought that he had ventured too far, and there was an end of his triumphs. Not that he had not asserted many truths. Yes, sir, there are in that composition many bold truths, by which a wise prince might profit. It was the rancor and venom with which I was struck. In these respects the North Briton is as much inferior to him as in strength, wit, and judgment. But while I expected in this daring flight his final ruin and fall, behold him rising still higher, and coming down souse upon both houses of Parliament. Yes, he did make you his quarry, and you still bleed from the wounds of his talons. You crouched, and still crouch, beneath his rage. Nor has he dreaded the terrors of your brow, sir;[B] he has attacked even you—he has—and I believe you have no reason to triumph in the encounter. In short, after carrying away our Royal Eagle in his pounces, and dashing him against a rock, he has laid you prostrate. Kings, Lords, and Commons are but the sport of his fury. Were he a member of this House, what might not be expected from his knowledge, his firmness, and integrity? He would be easily known by his contempt of all danger, by his penetration, by his vigor. Nothing would escape his vigilance and activity. Bad ministers could conceal nothing from his sagacity; nor could promises or threats induce him to conceal any thing from the public.

[A] From a speech delivered in the House of Commons.

[B] Sir Fletcher Norton, Speaker of the House, was distinguished for the largeness of his overhanging eyebrows.

SOCIAL POSITION.

What was the position of Junius in society? Was he a man of fortune or of humble means? Was he a peer, or the leader of a party or faction, or was he one of the common people? Let Junius tell. In his reply to Sir William Draper, he says: "I will not contend with you in point of composition—you are a scholar, Sir William, and, if I am truly informed, you write Latin with almost as much purity as English. Suffer me then (for I am a plain, unlettered man) to continue that style of interrogation which suits my capacity."—Let. 7. In the following the italics are Junius'. He had been upbraided by Sir William for his assumed signature, and replied: "I should have hoped that even my name might carry some authority with it, if I had not seen how very little weight or consideration a printed paper receives, even from the respectable signature of Sir William Draper."—Let. 3. Again, he says: "Mine, I confess, are humble labors. I do not presume to instruct the learned, but simply to inform the body of the people, and I prefer that channel of conveyance which is likely to spread farthest among them."—Let. 22. Again: "Welbore Ellis, what say you? Is this the law of Parliament, or is it not? I am a plain man, sir, and can not follow you through the phlegmatic forms of an oration. Speak out, Gildrig! Say yes or no."—Let. 47. Again: "I speak to the people as one of the people."—Let. 58. In Let. 57 he says he is a "stranger" to the Livery of London. He says, also, in Let. 25, to Sir William Draper: "I believe, sir, you will never know me. A considerable time must certainly elapse before we are personally acquainted." This language is not equivocal. They neither of them personally knew the other. In Let. 18 he says he is not personally known to Mr. Grenville, a member of the House of Commons. Nor was he a collegian or lawyer. In Let. 53 he says: "I speak to facts with which all of us are conversant. I speak to men and to their experience, and will not descend to answer the little sneering sophistries of a collegian." And again: "This may be logic at Cambridge, or at the treasury, but among men of sense and honor it is folly or villainy in the extreme." In Let. 7 he says to Sir William Draper: "An academical education has given you an unlimited command over the most beautiful figures of speech. Masks, hatchets, racks, and vipers dance through your letters in all the mazes of metaphorical confusion." This is one of Junius' most withering sarcasms. In his Preface he says: "I am no lawyer by profession, nor do I pretend to be more deeply read than every English gentleman should be in the laws of his country." ... "I speak to the plain understanding of the people, and appeal to their honest, liberal construction of me." And of the Letters he says in the Dedication: "To me, originally, they owe nothing but a healthy, sanguine constitution."

Now, from the above facts, and the method of elimination, it may be affirmed, Junius was not prominent before the English nation. He was not a peer, nor member of the House of Commons. He could not have been an army officer. He was not a collegian, nor a lawyer. What, then, was he? Just what he says himself to be: "one of the common people, with a healthy, sanguine constitution," but by no means without genius, education, and practical knowledge.

JUNIUS NOT A PARTISAN.

But let us continue the method of elimination till we find his true position. Because we can not safely affirm what he was, till we know in some particulars, what he was not; and it is thus the spirit and object of Junius may be made visible. I affirm, therefore, Junius was not a partisan. In proof of which I submit the following, from Let. 58, to the study of the reader:

"No man laments more sincerely than I do the unhappy differences which have arisen among the friends of the people, and divided them from each other. The cause, undoubtedly, suffers as well by the diminution of that strength which union carries along with it, as by the separate loss of personal reputation, which every man sustains when his character and conduct are frequently held forth in odious or contemptible colors. The differences are only advantageous to the common enemy[A] of the country. The hearty friends of the cause are provoked and disgusted. The lukewarm advocate avails himself of any pretense, to relapse into that indolent indifference about every thing that ought to interest an Englishman, so unjustly dignified with the title of moderation. The false, insidious partisan, who creates or foments the disorder, sees the fruit of his dishonest industry ripen beyond his hopes, and rejoices in the promise of a banquet, only delicious to such an appetite as his own. It is time for those who really mean the Cause and the People, who have no view to private advantage, and who have virtue enough to prefer the general good of the community to the gratification of personal animosities—it is time for such men to interpose. Let us try whether these fatal dissensions may not yet be reconciled; or, if that be impracticable, let us guard, at least, against the worst effects of division, and endeavor to persuade these furious partisans, if they will not consent to draw together, to be separately useful to that cause which they all pretend to be attached to. Honor and honesty must not be renounced, although a thousand modes of right and wrong were to occupy the degrees of morality between Zeno and Epicurus. The fundamental principles of Christianity may still be preserved, though every zealous sectary adheres to his own exclusive doctrine, and pious ecclesiastics make it a part of their religion to persecute one another. The civil constitution, too—that legal liberty, that general creed which every Englishman professes—may still be supported, though Wilkes and Horne, and Townsend and Sawbridge, should obstinately refuse to communicate; and even if the fathers of the Church—if Saville, Richmond, Camden, Rockingham, and Chatham should disagree in the ceremonies of their political worship, and even in the interpretation of twenty texts of Magna Charta. I speak to the people as one of the people. Let us employ these men in whatever departments their various abilities are best suited to, and as much to the advantage of the common cause as their different inclinations will permit. They can not serve us without essentially serving themselves."

In the above Junius places himself on the side of the people, and clearly above all party or faction. But he continues:

"I have too much respect for the abilities of Mr. Horne, to flatter myself that these gentlemen will ever be cordially re-united. It is not, however, unreasonable to expect, that each of them should act his separate part with honor and integrity to the public. As for differences of opinion upon speculative questions, if we wait until they are reconciled, the action of human affairs must be suspended forever. But neither are we to look for perfection in any one man, nor for agreement among many. When Lord Chatham affirms that the authority of the British legislature is not supreme over the colonies in the same sense in which it is supreme over Great Britain; when Lord Camden supposes a necessity (which the king is to judge of), and, founded upon that necessity, attributes to the crown a legal power (not given by the act itself) to suspend the operation of an act of the legislature, I listen to them both, with diffidence and respect, but without the smallest degree of conviction or assent. Yet I doubt not they delivered their real sentiments, nor ought they to be hastily condemned.... I mean only to illustrate one useful proposition, which it is the intention of this paper to inculcate, 'That we should not generally reject the friendship or services of any man because he differs from us in a particular opinion.' This will not appear a superfluous caution, if we observe the ordinary conduct of mankind. In public affairs, there is the least chance of a perfect concurrence of sentiment or inclination; yet every man is able to contribute something to the common stock, and no man's contribution should be rejected. If individuals have no virtues, their vices may be of use to us. I care not with what principle the new-born patriot is animated, if the measures he supports are beneficial to the community. The nation is interested in his conduct. His motives are his own. The properties of a patriot are perishable in the individual; but there is a quick succession of subjects, and the breed is worth preserving. The spirit of the Americans may be an useful example to us. Our dogs and horses are only English upon English ground; but patriotism, it seems, may be improved by transplanting. I will not reject a bill which tends to confine parliamentary privilege within reasonable bounds, though it should be stolen from the house of Cavendish, and introduced by Mr. Onslow. The features of the infant are a proof of the descent, and vindicate the noble birth from the baseness of the adoption.[B] I will willingly accept a sarcasm from Colonel Barré,[C] or a simile from Mr. Burke.[D] Even the silent vote of Mr. Calcraft is worth reckoning in a division. What though he riots in the plunder of the army, and has only determined to be a patriot when he could not be a peer? Let us profit by the assistance of such men while they are with us, and place them, if it be possible, in the post of danger to prevent desertion. The wary Wedderburne, the pompous Suffolk, never threw away the scabbard, nor ever went upon a forlorn hope. They always treated the king's servants as men with whom, some time or other, they might probably be in friendship. When a man who stands forth for the public, has gone that length from which there is no practicable retreat, when he has given that kind of personal offense, which a pious monarch never pardons, I then begin to think him in earnest, and that he will never have occasion to solicit the forgiveness of his country. But instances of a determination so entire and unreserved are rarely to be met with. Let us take mankind as they are; let us distribute the virtues and abilities of individuals, according to the offices they affect; and when they quit the service, let us endeavor to supply their places with better men than we have lost. In this country there are always candidates enough for popular favor. The temple of fame is the shortest passage to riches and preferment.

"Above all things, let me guard my countrymen against the meanness and folly of accepting of a trifling or moderate compensation for extraordinary and essential injuries. Our enemy treats us as the cunning trader does the unskillful Indian; they magnify their generosity, when they give us baubles of little proportionate value for ivory and gold. The same House of Commons who robbed the constituent body of their right of free election; who presume to make a law, under pretense of declaring it; who paid our good king's debts, without once inquiring how they were incurred; who gave thanks for repeated murders committed at home, and for national infamy incurred abroad; who screened Lord Mansfield; who imprisoned the magistrates of the metropolis for asserting the subjects' right to the protection of the laws; who erased a judicial record, and ordered all proceedings in criminal suit to be suspended; this very House of Commons have graciously consented that their own members may be compelled to pay their debts, and that contested elections shall, for the future, be determined with some decent regard to the merits of the case. The event of the suit is of no consequence to the crown. While parliaments are septennial, the purchase of the sitting member or of the petitioner, makes but the difference of a day. Concessions such as these, are of little moment to the sum of things; unless it be to prove that the worst of men are sensible of the injuries they have done us, and perhaps to demonstrate to us the imminent danger of our situation. In the shipwreck of the state, trifles float, and are preserved; while every thing solid and valuable sinks to the bottom, and is lost forever."

Nor did Junius ever receive pay for his writings. The charges made against him are thus briefly disposed of: "To write for profit, without taxing the press; to write for fame, and to be unknown; to support the intrigues of faction, and to be disowned as a dangerous auxiliary by every party in the kingdom, are contradictions which the minister must reconcile before I forfeit my credit with the public. I may quit the service, but it would be absurd to charge me with desertion. The reputation of these papers is an honorable pledge for my attachment to the people.... But, in truth, sir, I have left no room for an accommodation with the piety of St. James'. My offenses are not to be redeemed by recantation or repentance. On one side, our warmest patriots would disclaim me as a burthen to their honest ambition. On the other, the vilest prostitution, if Junius could descend to it, would lose its natural merit and influence in the cabinet, and treachery be no longer a recommendation to the royal favor."—Let. 44. "He is not paid for his labor, and certainly has a right to choose his employment."—Let. 63. "As for myself, it is no longer a question whether I shall mix with the throng and take a single share in the danger. Whenever Junius appears he must encounter a host of enemies. But is there no honorable way to serve the public without engaging in personal quarrels with insignificant individuals, or submitting to the drudgery of canvassing votes for an election? Is there no merit in dedicating my life to the information of my fellow-subjects? What public question have I declined? What villain have I spared? Is there no labor in the composition of these letters?"—Let. 53.

In compiling the Letters, he says in his Preface: "The printer will readily acquit me of any view to my own profit. I undertake this troublesome task merely to serve a man who has deserved well of me and the public, and who, on my account, has been exposed to an expensive, tyrannical prosecution." This was Mr. Woodfall, publisher of the Public Advertiser.

I am now prepared to ask: What, then, was the object of Junius? What does he mean by "The Cause and the People"? To what Cause has he "dedicated his life"? and which, if he should desert, would be the "vilest prostitution?" Why this great zeal and disinterested benevolence? Aloof from party, unknown to the public, writing for neither fame nor favor, what is the meaning of this literary adventurer?

[A] King, ministers, and parliament.

[B] That the reader may see the value Junius placed on such men as Onslow, I will place before him a short address of Junius to the king: "As you are a young man, sir, who ought to have a life of happiness in prospect; as you are a husband, as you are a father (your filial duties I own have been religiously performed), is it bona fide for your interest or your honor, to sacrifice your domestic tranquillity, and to live in perpetual disagreement with your people, merely to preserve such a chain of beings as North, Barrington, Weymouth, Gower, Ellis, Onslow, Rigby, Jerry Dyson, and Sandwich? Their very names are a satire upon all government, and I defy the gravest of your chaplains to read the catalogue without laughing."

[C] Isaac Barré defended the colonies and opposed the Stamp Act in the House of Commons with "a display of eloquence, which astonished all who heard him." When the ministry in 1771 tried to suppress the practice of reporting the parliamentary debates, he denounced them and the House of Commons in the strongest and most sarcastic terms; and after closing his speech he "left the house, calling upon every honest man to follow him." The letters of Junius were afterwards attributed to him.

[D] "A simile from Mr. Burke." One is here forcibly reminded how prophetic this sarcasm is of what Mr. Paine will say in his Rights of Man, of Mr. Burke's imagery: "I have now to follow Mr. Burke through a pathless wilderness of rhapsodies." ... "His intention was to make an attack on the French revolution; but instead of proceeding with an orderly arrangement he has stormed it with a mob of ideas, tumbling over and destroying one another."

A REVOLUTIONIST.

The object of Junius was to produce a revolution in England, to dethrone the king, depose the ministry, dissolve Parliament, and bring the constitution back to its original principles. He defends, at the same time, the action of the American colonies, and encourages them to move on with the work.

It is, perhaps, noticeable to the historian, and especially if he studies the causes of human action, that great movements in behalf of human weal are at no given time confined to a particular locality, but that they, in a measure, span the world. They at least radiate till they affect the whole of a particular type of mankind. Nor is this attributable altogether to commerce and a social interchange of thought, for these take time; but it seems as though, at times, convulsions of thought instantaneously affect great classes of people widely separated by ocean or country. The study of mobs and riots in America, England, and France would lead to this conclusion. It is, however, not a mooted point, that the same cause which moved the colonies to action just prior to the revolution, at the same time convulsed the English nation. The tyranny of king, ministers, and Parliament put its heel on the neck of Englishmen as well as Americans. The people rose in rebellion there as well as here. Patriots arose in England as well as in America, and foremost among them all was Junius, for he fought the battle of freedom for the whole world.

But that Junius meant war in England, is evident from almost every letter. I will give a few extracts in proof. In his Dedication he says: "Although the king should continue to support his present system of government, the period is not very distant at which you will have the means of redress in your own power: it may be nearer, perhaps, than any of us expect; and I would warn you to be prepared for it." If Thomas Paine wrote the Letters of Junius, he said this just before departing for America.

In his address to the Livery of London, he says, in regard to the candidates for election: "Will they grant you common halls when it shall be necessary? Will they go up with remonstrances to the king? Have they firmness enough to meet the fury of a venal House of Commons? Have they fortitude enough not to shrink at imprisonment? Have they spirit enough to hazard their lives and fortunes in a contest, if it should be necessary, with a prostituted legislature? If these questions can fairly be answered in the affirmative, your choice is made. Forgive this passionate language. I am unable to correct it. The subject comes home to us all. It is the language of my heart."—Let. 57. Upon the appointment of Luttrell as adjutant-general, and who, thereupon, takes command of the army in Ireland, Junius says: "My Lord, though it may not be possible to trace this measure to its source, we can follow the stream, and warn the country of its approaching destruction. The English nation must be roused and put upon its guard. Mr. Luttrell has already shown us how far he may be trusted, whenever an open attack is to be made upon the liberties of this country. I do not doubt that there is a deliberate plan formed. Your lordship best knows by whom. The corruption of the legislative body on this side, a military force on the other, and then, farewell to England."—Let. 40. Addressed to Lord North. The italics are his own.

Speaking of the king, he says: "If he loves his people, he will dissolve the parliament which they can never confide in or respect. If he has any regard for his own honor, he will disdain to be any longer connected with such abandoned prostitution. But if it were conceivable [and it was with Junius] that a king of this country had lost all sense of personal honor, and all concern for the welfare of his subjects, I confess, sir, I should be contented to renounce the forms of the constitution once more, if there were no other way to obtain substantial justice for the people."—Let. 44. Any one who is acquainted with the English constitution knows that "its forms" can not be renounced without a revolution. And as to his opinion of the king, he says, "his virtues had ceased to be a question." ... "The man I speak of [the king] has not a heart to feel for the frailties of his fellow creatures. It is their virtues that afflict, it is their vices that console him."—Let. 53. But this will be brought out more strongly in my Parallels, and I will leave it here and pass on to speak of his sympathy with the colonies.

It has perhaps been already noticed by the reader, that Junius, in the extracts given, spoke in the most respectful terms of the colonies. But when he says: "The spirit of the Americans may be an useful example to us;" and, "patriotism may be improved by transplanting," he meant more than praise of the colonies. He meant to stir up the English nation to action and rebellion. He speaks of the affections of the colonies as having been "alienated from their common country" by a series of inconsistent measures.—Let. 1 and Let. 3. But in no instance does he blame them. In his address to the king, he says: "The distance of the colonies would make it impossible for them to take an active concern in your affairs, if they were as well affected to your government as they once pretended to be to your person. They are ready enough to distinguish between you and your ministers. They complained of an act of the legislature, but traced the origin of it no higher than to the servants of the crown; they pleased themselves with the hope that their sovereign, if not favorable to their cause, at least was impartial. They consider you as united with your servants against America; and know how to distinguish the sovereign and a venal parliament on one side, from the real sentiments of the English people on the other. Looking forward to independence, they might possibly receive you for their king; but if ever you retire to America [this would be after Junius had effected a revolution in England], be assured they will give you such a covenant to digest as the presbytery of Scotland would have been ashamed to offer to Charles the Second. They left their native land in search of freedom, and found it in a desert. Divided, as they are, into a thousand forms of policy and religion, there is one point in which they all agree: they equally detest the pageantry of a king, and the supercilious hypocrisy of a bishop."—Let. 35. Oliver Cromwell he calls an "accomplished president," and extols his genius.—Let. 14. Much more could be given of the same nature, but this is sufficient.

REVIEW OF JUNIUS.

I wish the reader to catch the spirit of Junius, and to this end I will briefly review the book.

Junius, before beginning, has an orderly plan for his literary campaign. He opens it with the new year, and closes it with the same. He begins with a full and sweeping broadside at king, ministers, and parliament, at the same time defending the English people and the American colonies. He knew this would call forth a return fire, for which he held himself in readiness. He expected a defense of the Duke of Grafton, but was disappointed in this, for it came from Sir William Draper, in behalf of Lord Granby. After he had temporarily silenced this gun, the last shot from Sir William being, "Cease, viper!" he pours charge after charge into Grafton, the prime minister. He does not attack the king at this time, for the reason that "it had been a maxim of the English government, not unwillingly admitted by the people, that every ungracious or severe exertion of the prerogative should be placed to the account of the minister; but that whenever an act of grace or benevolence was to be performed, the whole merit of it should be attributable to the sovereign himself." That is, the maxim that "The king can do no wrong," was yet admitted by the people, and for Junius to attack the king instead of the prime minister, would have thwarted his design, which was, as before stated, Revolution. Nor does Junius dare to assault the throne till he has brought forth a response in defense of Grafton, knowing that when it came it must reflect on the king. The last of May of the first year he had brought all his charges against Grafton, and to them there had been no response but "the flat general charge of scurrility and falsehood." This Junius did not deign to answer. He now appears over the signature of Philo Junius, compiling the facts and giving them in their order. The principle charges were: an invasion upon "the first rights of the people and the first principles of the constitution" by the arbitrary appointment of Mr. Luttrell as a member of the House of Commons in the place of Mr. Wilkes, who, at the king's solicitation, had been expelled: the disgraceful conduct of Grafton in associating with a prostitute in public: the charge of bastardy upon the duke: the desertion of Lord Chatham: the betrayal of Rockingham and Wilkes: his vascillating and weak action in regard to the colonies: and marrying the near relative of a man who had debauched his wife. But nothing could provoke any reply worthy of an answer by Junius till he, near the close of the year, brought forward the charge against Grafton of "selling a patent place in the collection of customs at Exeter to one Mr. Hine." Junius says of this: "No sale by the candle was ever conducted with greater formality. I thank God! there is not in human nature a degree of impudence daring enough to deny the charge I have fixed upon you." To aggravate this charge, Junius works up another, which is as follows: "A little before the publication of this and the preceding letter, the Duke of Grafton had commenced a prosecution against Mr. Samuel Vaughan for endeavoring to corrupt his integrity by an offer of five thousand pounds for a patent place in Jamaica." But now the duke is charged by Junius with the acceptance of a bribe from Mr. Hine, and to save the duke from impeachment, and Lord Mansfield from embarrassment, the prosecution is immediately dropped. See Let. 34. In a note to the above Letter Junius says: "From the publication of the preceding to this date, not one word was said in defense of the Duke of Grafton. But vice and impudence soon regained themselves, and the sale of the royal favor was openly avowed and defended. We acknowledge the piety of St. James', but what has become of its morality?"

It is now the 12th of December, and on the 19th Junius assaults the throne. Till now there was no opportunity offered, for up to this time the king stood within the impregnable fortress, "The king can do no wrong." Junius, while he acknowledges this maxim, does so merely to get the ear of the king, for he afterward in his Preface takes occasion to place himself right before the public. But having once entered the king's castle, he makes George the Third the most insignificant and detestable object on earth. It is the most powerful piece of satire against kingcraft in the English language, and while it remains to be read by the people, kings may look on and tremble. Junius also in this not only hints war, but threatens revolution. In closing he says: "But this is not a time to trifle with your fortune. They deceive you, sir, who tell you that you have many friends whose affections are founded upon a principle of personal attachment. The fortune which made you a king forbade you to have a friend. It is a law of nature which can not be violated with impunity. The mistaken prince who looks for friendship, will find a favorite, and in that favorite the ruin of his affairs." And the closing sentence is: "While he plumes himself upon the security of his title to the crown, should remember, that, as it was acquired by one revolution, it may be lost by another."—Let. 35.

But Junius failed to produce the desired effect. The spirit of revolution was now at its height. The ocean must ebb. A reaction follows, and during two years more Junius strives to put new life into the flagging energies of his countrymen, and to kindle anew the fire of liberty. But the flame goes out.

The commons have been corrupted by the king, and now the lords give way: "The three branches of the legislature (king, lords, and commons) seem to treat their separate rights and interests as the Roman triumvirs did their friends; they reciprocally sacrifice them to the animosities of each other, and establish a detestable union among themselves upon the ruin of the laws and liberty of the commonwealth."—Let. 39.

Of the House of Lords he says: "By resolving that they had no right to impeach a judgment of the House of Commons in any case whatsoever, where that house has a competent jurisdiction, they in effect gave up that constitutional check and reciprocal control of one branch of the legislature over the other, which is, perhaps, the greatest and most important object provided for by the division of the whole legislative power into three estates; and now let the judicial decisions of the House of Commons be ever so extravagant, let their declarations of law be ever so flagrantly false, arbitrary, and oppressive to the subject, the House of Lords have imposed a slavish silence upon themselves; they can not interpose; they can not protect the subject; they can not defend the laws of their country. A concession so extraordinary in itself, so contradictory to the principles of their own institution, can not but alarm the most unsuspecting mind."—Let. 39. Junius, in a note to this Letter, calls for a leader upon this state of facts: "The man who resists and overcomes this iniquitous power assumed by the lords, must be supported by the whole people. We have the laws on our side, and want nothing but an intrepid leader. When such a man stands forth, let the nation look to it. It is not his cause, but our own."

But the leader did not come, and Junius is no more known to England. After such declarations it would outrage all degrees of probability to suppose that Junius revealed himself to the king and ministry, and that they conferred on him a fat office for what he had written. I will not insult the common sense of my readers by offering an argument against it, founded upon the laws of human nature. And yet, Lord Macaulay has surrendered his reason to just such an assumption. Had Junius ever revealed himself to the king and his "detestable junto," that would have been the last of him.

Before I take my leave of Junius, I will give two extracts in which he sounds, TO ARMS!

He is addressing the Duke of Grafton: "You have now brought the merits of your administration to an issue, on which every Englishman, of the narrowest capacity, may determine for himself; it is not an alarm to the passions, but a calm appeal to the judgment of the people upon their own most essential interests. A more experienced minister would not have hazarded a direct invasion of the first principles of the constitution before he had made some progress in subduing the spirit of the people. With such a cause as yours, my lord, it is not sufficient that you have the court at your devotion, unless you find means to corrupt or intimidate the jury. The collective body of the people form that jury, and from their decision there is but one appeal. Whether you have talents to support you at a crisis of such difficulty and danger, should long ago have been considered."—Let. 15.

"My lord, you should not encourage these appeals to Heaven. The pious prince from whom you are supposed to descend made such frequent use of them in his public declarations, that, at last, the people also found it necessary to appeal to Heaven in their turn. Your administration has driven us into circumstances of equal distress—beware, at least, how you remind us of the remedy."—Let. 9.

Junius breathed the spirit of revolution. This is the purpose, and only purpose, of the Letters, namely: to produce a revolution in England. And, if Thomas Paine was Junius, the idea never left him. As this is a fact which extends through the life of Mr. Paine, I shall offer some proof here, on this point, as amidst the multiplicity of facts and arguments it may hereafter escape me. It will serve, also, to introduce Mr. Paine to the reader.

An obscure English exciseman has now been a little more than two years in America, and just five years since Junius wrote his last Letter; he has written "Common Sense" and one "Crisis;" he has revolutionized public sentiment in America, the Declaration of Independence has been sent abroad to the world, and the war well begun, when in his second "Crisis" he indites the following to Lord Howe: "I, who know England and the disposition of the people well, am confident that it is easier for us to effect a revolution there than you a conquest here. A few thousand men landed in England with the declared design of deposing the present king, bringing his ministers to trial, and setting up the Duke of Gloucester in his stead, would assuredly carry their point while you were groveling here ignorant of the matter. As I send all my papers to England, this, like Common Sense, will find its way there; and, though it may put one party on their guard, it will inform the other and the nation in general of our design to help them."

Here Mr. Paine has announced the name of the leader whom Junius called for. But Paine proposes to do Junius over again. Hear him! In the year 1792 he writes: "During the war, in the latter end of the year 1780, I formed to myself the design of coming over to England.... I was strongly impressed with the idea that if I could get over to England without being known, and only remain in safety till I could get out a publication, I could open the eyes of the country with respect to the madness and stupidity of its government. I saw that the parties in parliament had pitted themselves as far as they could go, and could make no new impression on each other. General Greene entered fully into my views, but the affair of Arnold and Andre happening just after, he changed his mind, and, under strong apprehensions for my safety, wrote to me very pressingly to give up the design, which, with some reluctance, I did." He afterward renews the same design. In accompanying Colonel Laurens to France, certain dispatches from the English government fell into his hands through the capture of an English frigate. These dispatches Paine read at Paris, and brought them to America on his return. He says: "By these dispatches I saw further into the stupidity of the English cabinet than I otherwise could have done, and I renewed my former design. But Colonel Laurens was so unwilling to return alone, more especially as, among other matters, he had a charge of upward of two hundred thousand pounds sterling money, that I gave in to his wishes, and finally gave up my plan. But I am now certain that, if I could have executed it, it would not have been altogether unsuccessful."—Note, Rights of Man, part ii. Nor is this all. "When Napoleon meditated a descent upon England by means of gunboats, he secured the services of Thomas Paine to establish, after the conquest, a more popular government."—New Am. Cyc., Art. Thomas Paine. From all that I can gather, Mr. Paine was himself the author of this "plan of Napoleon's."

COMMON SENSE.

Junius is heard no more in England. The fame of this unknown author has gone round the world. A score of volumes have been written to prove his identity with a score of names. But all that has been said is wild with conjecture, and arguments have only been built upon "rumor," and "facts" drawn from the imagination. A scientific criticism has never been attempted. Truth has been insulted by the imagination in its wild ramblings, and writers have contented themselves with theory and fancy, "to pile up reluctant quarto upon solid folio, as if their labors, because they are gigantic, could contend with truth and Heaven." But while the king and his cabinet are setting traps, and hunting up and down the whole realm for this "mighty boar of the forest," in fear that he will again plunge at the king, or tear the ermine of Lord Mansfield, Thomas Paine, just landed upon the shores of America, hurls back a shaft at royalty which transfixes it to the wall of its castle. This was Common Sense. A reaction had taken place in England, and the people of America were also affected thereby. Reconciliation was the cry, independence scarcely lisped, and, when lisped, people "startled at the novelty of it." "In this state of political suspense," says Mr. Paine, "the pamphlet of Common Sense made its appearance, and the success it met with does not become me to mention. Dr. Franklin, Mr. Samuel, and John Adams were severally spoken of as the supposed author. I had not, at that time, the pleasure either of personally knowing or being known to the two last gentlemen. The favor of Dr. Franklin's friendship I possessed in England, and my introduction to this part of the world was through his patronage.... In October, 1775, Dr. Franklin proposed giving me such materials as were in his hands toward completing a history of the present transactions, and seemed desirous of having the first volume out the next spring. I had then formed the outlines of Common Sense and finished nearly the first part; and, as I supposed the doctor's design in getting out a history was to open the new year with a new system, I expected to surprise him with a production on that subject much earlier than he thought of, and, without informing him what I was doing, got it ready for the press as fast as I conveniently could, and sent him the first pamphlet that was printed off."—Note, Crisis, iii.

Opening the new year with a new system is emphatically what Junius also did, and it is most remarkable that the appearance of Junius' first Letter had, at first, the same effect in England that Common Sense had in America. Both came like thunderbolts. "On January 10, 1776, when 'a reconciliation with the mother country was the wish of almost every American,' a pamphlet called Common Sense, advocating the establishment of a republic of free and independent states, 'burst upon the world'—in the language of Dr. Rush—'with an effect which has rarely been produced by types and paper in any age or country.' It was immediately denounced as 'one of the most artful, insidious, and pernicious of pamphlets!' John Dickinson, a staunch supporter of the American cause, and author of the 'Farmers' Letters,' opposed the idea of independence in a speech as a member of the Continental Congress. The author of 'Plain Truth,' one of the many replies to Common Sense, thought that 'volumes were insufficient to describe the horror, misery, and desolation awaiting the people at large in the siren form of American independence.' Dr. William Smith, provost of the University of Pennsylvania, said, in his 'Cato's Letters,' published in March, 1776: 'Nor have many weeks yet elapsed since the first open proposition for independence was published to the world; it certainly has no countenance from congress, and is only the idol of those who wish to subvert all order among us, and rise on the ruins of their country.'"—Art. Thomas Paine, New Am. Cyc.

This was the first effort in America toward revolution. It was a bold hand, moved by a daring heart, that wrote Common Sense. In style and language, in argument and sentiment, in spirit and character, it is the finest political document ever produced in the English language. The object for which Junius and Common Sense were written I have shown to be the same, namely: revolution, and that the base of operation has only been changed. It is still an attack upon king, lords, and commons, and a defense of the people. I now go to show that Common Sense is a concise reproduction of Junius, in sentiment, style, and method of argumentation. But I will first call to the reader's mind a sentence from Junius in answer to the assertion of Dr. Smith just quoted, that Common Sense was "the first open proposition for independence." On the contrary, the first open statement of Junius in regard to the colonies, addressed to the king six years before this, is as follows: "Looking forward to independence, they might possibly receive you for their king; but, if you ever retire to America, be assured they will give you such a covenant to digest as the presbytery of Scotland would have been ashamed to offer to Charles the Second. They left their native land in search of freedom, and found it in a desert. Divided as they are into a thousand forms of policy and religion, there is one point in which they all agree—they equally detest the pageantry of a king, and the supercilious hypocrisy of a bishop."

I have now only to remark: when Thomas Paine came to America, at least when he wrote Common Sense, he understood the American people and what they wanted better than they did themselves; and so did Junius.

I now bring Common Sense and Junius together to show parallels of idea, method, and style.

I would call the attention of the reader to the manner in which they close: to the cause of which they speak: to the object of their labors: to the fact that they stand above party or faction: to the expression of Junius, "written by one of yourselves:" to the declaration that if he lives he will often remind the English people of the danger they are in and of the remedy: to the fact that Mr. Paine here does it, and continues to do it ever after while he lives: in short, I would call the attention of the reader to the perfect similarity in style, object, and sentiment, save in this—the one was the requiem of Freedom in England, the other, her natal song in America.

As I have called attention to the style, I would caution the reader not to be betrayed by the word "hath" of Mr. Paine. It by no means affects the style. It was doubtless used or not used at first as a blind by Mr. Paine; for he sometimes used it and sometimes did not. A few years later in life it is abandoned altogether, and Junius occasionally lets it slip. See Let. 37. And also the word "doth."—Note, Let. 41.

The following gives a distinction between society and government, the failure of human conscience, and the necessary surrender of human liberty:

Mr. Paine now proceeds to form a government upon an ideal plan, and show the origin of those first principles which would operate in the first peopling of a country. "But as nothing but heaven is impregnable to vice," the natural restraints of society will not be sufficient to check it; this will necessitate the establishment of a government. At first, the whole colony may deliberate, and in the first parliament every man will have a seat. But as the colony increases this can not be done, because inconvenience prohibits it. He now observes:

In the above the sentiment is not only the same, but the same metaphors are used. As a "rod" for the representative, and the "voice of reason."

In the following the same metaphor also is used, but with a change in the application.

In the above, Junius is speaking, in his first Letter, with all the prejudices of an Englishman in favor of the constitution. But this soon wears off, and in his closing Letter he speaks as boldly as Common Sense.

I would remark on the above passage from Junius, that this is one of his finest rhetorical efforts, and it is well worthy of a moment's pause, to study its plan and probable effect on the English mind. This was written near the close of his literary campaign. The reaction had set in, and he was stemming the tide of public opinion. He wishes to bring the people up to his republican notions, and to rouse them to action. He begins by admiring the liberal spirit and integrity of the man, but reflects on his judgment who prefers a republic to a monarchy so qualified and limited in a country of that size. He limits monarchy to a small country. The reader will mark how guarded he is here. He is fully aware of the prejudices of the people in favor of monarchy, and doubtless he spoke his own sentiments at the time, qualified as they were. Mr. Paine afterward spoke of "setting up the Duke of Gloucester, deposing the king, and bringing the ministers to trial." Junius has now prepared the public ear for an attentive and respectful hearing; he has bowed to monarchy, and touched the heart of his audience. He now introduces the principles of a republic, which produce a spirit devoid of anarchy and riot, but one attached to the common weal and submissive to the laws only. He now tenderly chides the people for their dependence upon the crown, especially the leaders. He then advances to a charge of inconsistency, and shows the advantage the friends of arbitrary power take of it. He now supports himself by authority in a eulogy on Mr. Sawbridge, of whom he says: "He has shown himself possessed of that republican firmness which the times require." He at last caps the climax with an array of republics, and a hint that an English gentleman would be "honorably distinguished" if he would come forward and play the part of Brutus. The whole paragraph is deeply planned and finely wrought out, and would fall with stunning weight upon the mind of the English nation.

But let us proceed. Mr. Paine asked, in the last sentence quoted above in the parallel column: "Why is the constitution of England sickly?" etc. He also further says: "An inquiry into the constitutional errors in the English form of government is at this time highly necessary, for, as we are never in a proper condition of doing justice to others while we continue under the influence of some leading partiality, so neither are we capable of doing it to ourselves while we remain fettered by an obstinate prejudice. And as a man who is attached to a prostitute is unfit to choose or judge of a wife, so any prepossession in favor of a rotten constitution of government will disable us from discerning a good one."—Common Sense, Part I.

Englishmen considered rotten boroughs the only rotten part of the constitution, but Common Sense and Junius both considered that the disease had extended from the extremities to the heart. Junius says:

"As to cutting away the rotten boroughs, I am as much offended as any man at seeing so many of them under the direct influence of the crown, or at the disposal of private persons. Yet, I own I have both doubts and apprehensions in regard to the remedy you propose.... When all your instruments of amputation are prepared, when the unhappy patient lies bound at your feet, without the possibility of resistance, by what infallible rule will you direct the operation? When you propose to cut away the rotten parts, can you tell us what parts are perfectly sound? Are there any certain limits, in fact or theory, to inform you at what point you must stop—at what point the mortification ends? To a man [Mr. Wilkes] so capable of observation and reflection as you are, it is unnecessary to say all that might be said upon the subject. Besides that, I approve highly of Lord Chatham's idea of infusing a portion of new health into the constitution, to enable it to bear its infirmities—a brilliant expression, and full of intrinsic wisdom."—Last Letter of Junius.

I will now present their doctrine of equal rights:

While I am upon the subject of king, I will present their views in this place. And I would call attention to the severity of the language:

I will now make a few remarks upon Common Sense. I have introduced a few extracts to show its spirit, scope, and object; and the opinions, principles, language, and style of Mr. Paine. I have also thrown by the side of them the similar characteristics of Junius, but this is not all.

Common Sense was to America what Junius would have been to England if the same success had attended it. There is a plan in Common Sense similar to that of Junius. It opens the new year with a new policy; it begins by a contrast between society and government; it attacks the government and defends the original rights of the people; it assaults the king and his minions; it defends republicanism against royalty; it calls on the people to rebel against the tyrant, to take up arms in their defense, and to establish government upon the natural and original rights of the people. If one will study the two works he will find not only the general plan the same, but even in detail they strikingly correspond; showing the same head to plan, and the same hand to execute. There is the same language, the same figures of speech, the same wit, the same method of argumentation, the same withering satire, the same appeals to Heaven, and the same bold, proud, unconquerable spirit, in the one as in the other.

If Mr. Paine was Junius, these things would naturally be expected. And it would be expected, also, that having failed to produce the desired effect in England, and all further effort there being at an end, that if Junius lived he would change his base of operations if a favorable opportunity offered, and strike once more for the liberties of the people. Thus the natural order of things leads us to an irresistible conclusion. But in order not to be too hasty we ought to ask: Is there not one fact in the whole life and character of Mr. Paine incompatible with Junius? When it is found I will surrender the argument. But let us proceed.

Nature is prodigal of varieties. No two individuals are alike, either in physical form or mental features. Great differences may be found even among those most resembling each other, but when we find a man prominent among his fellow-kind, it is because of marked characteristics in which he greatly differs from the rest. These characteristics are expressed in action. A record of these actions is the history of men. Faust gives us movable type, and Watt the steam-engine. Newton asks nature to reveal her mode of operation in the movement of matter. Bacon asks her for her method. Buckle inquires after the science of history. Napoleon was a magazine of war. And thus great minds reveal themselves in their own way; and the more striking and peculiar the characteristic, the more easily can we distinguish and describe the person. Mr. Paine was a literary adventurer. And unlike adventurers in conquest or discovery, he left the record of his course as he went along. His was not a path in the sea, nor foot-prints in the sand, but a work like that of Euclid or Laplace, carved out of thought; he called out of chaos a new world of politics; he fought great battles and won victories with the pen. To know the man, then, we must examine his writings. To this end, therefore, I call the reader's attention to his style.

STYLE.

I will first make some concise remarks upon this subject, to aid us in comparing Junius with Mr. Paine; because I propose to show that the style of the one is the style of the other.

Style, by most authors, is treated under the following heads: Perspicuity, Vivacity, and Beauty. Perspicuity, I define, the clear and true expression of our thoughts in the fewest words. Vivacity is the energy or life of expression; it attracts the attention, and excites the imagination. It takes the will by storm and produces conviction. Combined with perspicuity it becomes eloquence. Beauty is the harmony and smoothness of of expression, and is often made synonymous with elegance.

The first requisite in style is perspicuity. It is a prevalent notion among the vulgar that clearness of expression leads to dryness and dullness in speaking or writing, owing to the plain garb in which ideas are clothed. But the fact is, the very reverse of this is true, and as the legitimate result.

Words are said to be the signs of ideas, or symbols of thought. But words spoken is thought passing in the air; they are ideas in invisible vibrations, and a sound can neither be a sign nor a symbol. But words written are symbols of thought. Language addresses both the ear and the eye. The true end and aim of language is to make others feel the full force of an idea as it is felt by the speaker. Language must therefore be forever imperfect, and this from the nature of things, or at least till ideas can be silently conveyed upon the waves of some subtle nerve force. Ideas flit from the mind with the rapidity of lightning. To the inward beholder truth becomes visible at times instantaneously. He sees it, he feels it; it fills him with emotions; it struggles for utterance. Truth writhes to get free and become universally, instead of particularly, known and felt. It may be and is felt instantaneously, yet it can not be expressed in words for hours, and perhaps never: certainly never as it should be. Truth rests in the mind, or flutters there in ideal beauty. It requires an artist transcending earthly perfection to breathe it to the ear or throw it out to the eye on canvas. The tongue and hand both fail, the sounds are discordant, and the lines are broken. In the one instance we have a jumble of sounds, and in the other a daub for a picture.

It becomes apparent at once, the more words we use to express thought, the more it is cumbered with technicalities and idiomatic phrases, just so much more gross, and feeble, and uninviting it becomes, because robbed of its ideal beauty. But, on the contrary, if a word or a look or a touch could express it, its beauty, and its power, and its worth would not be thus blemished. Byron would have spoken that word were it lightning. Hence arises the interest and charm in beholding the picture of an artist, where so much is revealed at a glance; for it is thought which is expressed there. Hence, also, it becomes evident that far more can be expressed in a figure of speech, quickly and boldly put, than could be otherwise presented in hours or days. "A single hieroglyphic character," says Champoleon le June, "would probably convey more to the mind of an ancient Egyptian than a quarto page would to a European."

Perspicuity, therefore, is not necessarily devoid of energy or elegance, in fact the only means to secure a clear and concise style is to use the trope—especially in the two forms of metaphor and comparison: observing always that long and labored figures of speech are generally ambiguous, and always have a bad effect. Their beauty, and worth, and power consist in the brevity and clearness with which they are expressed. "The thought expressed in a single line by Chaucer," says Lord Kames, "gives more luster to a young beauty, than the whole of his much labored poem,

"Up rose the sun, and up rose Emilie."

Perspicuity, then, we would consider the very soul of vivacity, and vivacity the soul of eloquence.

The elegance or beauty of expression is of far less consequence, and must often be sacrificed to the very nature of ideas. It can not be said that all ideas are beautiful. There are uncomely and hideous things on earth; there are disagreeable and hateful subjects to be spoken of, and there are painful feelings to be expressed. Language would fail to subserve the end for which it exists, did it not correspond to the sources of thought and the objects to be described; otherwise it would not be language. To be elegant, therefore, at all times, in speaking or writing, involves an absurdity, inasmuch as only a part of our ideas could be expressed were this the case. The simple narration of facts enlightens; elegance soothes and pleases; but vivacity moves to action. It is the duty of the writer to make his style and language correspond with his subject.

Keeping the foregoing principles in view, the reader may apply such terms to the piece he reads, or the discourse he hears, as may be most fitting. It is thus we speak of concise, diffuse, bold, feeble, nervous, plain, neat, dry, or flowery styles. A full sentence or period, as it is called, must therefore have: 1. Precision; that is, it must be clear and not ambiguous: 2. Unity; that is, it must not have crowded into it different subjects: 3. Strength; that is, all unnecessary words must be thrown away, and it must be built with such mechanical skill as will render it the most forcible to the mind: and, 4. Harmony; that is, it must sound with the sense.

For the purpose of an argument, it is immaterial to me whether I have cause to praise or censure the style of Mr. Paine. It is a comparison of the known with the unknown, in which I am about to engage, and it is the likeness, not the merits, which I wish to bring out. A good or a bad style would not affect the similarity were either produced by the same hand. But it is a fact worthy of remark, as I am passing, that a bad style in writing or speaking, has never produced any marked effect upon the world. It is the nature of great minds to be possessed of clear ideas, and to such minds nature never withholds the gift of purity of diction.

The style of Mr. Paine is as peculiar as the great mind that produced it, and I will describe it to be: strong, bold, clear, and harmonious. The construction of any of his pieces, is like the building of a fine edifice. He never begins without plan and specifications. He builds it in the ideal before he puts it on paper. The reader finds a foundation fit and substantial in the first paragraph, often in the first sentence. Upon this he finds a superstructure to correspond, which in size and proportions, is neat and artistic, constructed with each separate material of the best kind, and in its proper place, never left without cornice and entablature, so that when taken all together it is most pleasing and useful. He never leaves a period like a broken column, yet a careless vine sometimes winds around it, to attract the mind from its stately proportions, and we have lost the argument in the beauty of the figure. But the effect is momentary. He soon brings us back to the practical and the real. And it is his peculiar beauty, that he does not impose ideas upon us which his language can not convey to the commonest understanding.

Mr. Jefferson says of his style: "No writer has exceeded Paine in familiarity of style, in perspicuity of expression, happiness of elucidation, and in simple and unassuming language."

Style presents the law, as well as the image, of the writers' mind; in other words, style gives us the true portrait and habits of the mind, for the mind can by no means counterfeit itself. I will therefore proceed to an analysis and comparison of Mr. Paine's style with that of Junius; and, first, of the sentence, or period. The different members are of the same length, hence the rythm or harmony. Take the following examples, and I will place bars between the different members to aid the eye:

"The style and language you have adopted are, I confess, | not ill suited to the elegance of your own manners, | or to the dignity of the cause you have undertaken. | Every common dauber writes rascal and villain under his pictures, | because the pictures themselves have neither character nor resemblance. | But the works of a master require no index; | his features and coloring are taken from nature; | the impression is immediate and uniform; | nor is it possible to mistake the characters, | whether they represent the treachery of a minister, | or the abused simplicity of a king." |

"Were I disposed to paint a contrast, | I could easily set off what you have done in the present case | against what you would have done in that case, | and by justly opposing them, | conclude a picture that would make you blush. | But as, when any of the prouder passions are hurt, | it is much better philosophy | to let a man slip into a good temper | than to attack him in a bad one— | for that reason, therefore, I only state the case, | and leave you to reflect upon it." |

"Ye that tell us of harmony and reconciliation, | can ye restore to us the time that is past? | Can ye give to prostitution its former innocence? | Neither can ye reconcile Britain and America. | The last cord now is broken— | the people of England are presenting addresses against us. | There are injuries which nature can not forgive— | she would cease to be nature if she did. | As well can the lover forgive the ravisher of his mistress, | as the continent forgive the murders of Britain." |

"The question is not of what metal your instruments are made, | but whether they are adapted to the work you have in hand. | Will they grant you common halls when it shall be necessary? | Will they go up with remonstrances to the king? | Have they firmness enough to meet the fury of a venal House of Commons? | Have they fortitude enough not to shrink at imprisonment? | Have they spirit enough to hazard their lives and fortunes in a contest, | if it should be necessary, with a prostituted legislature? | If these questions can fairly be answered in the affirmative, your choice is made. | Forgive this passionate language. | I am unable to correct it. | The subject comes home to us all. | It is the language of my heart." |

The above is sufficient. The first and last paragraphs are from Junius, the other two from Paine. The last two paragraphs are passionate, the first two calm but energetic. Throughout the whole, nature is at work—there is nothing artificial. But it was the melody or rythm that I wished to indicate to the reader. This is peculiar and common to both, and itself can not be imitated. If a writer ever succeeds in reproducing this style, it will be from the nature of his own mind, and not from imitation.

If the reader will now return to page [71], and compare the Dedication to Junius with the Introduction to Common Sense, he will find in rythm a striking parallel, because the subject is the same, and the mind of the writer is performing the same work.

Grammatical accuracy is often sacrificed to conciseness, as in the following:

Mr. Paine was bold enough to transcend the minor rules of grammar whenever he found them cumbersome to his style. In this he is consistent with Junius.

There is a majesty of manner, and a grandeur of style, which strike the mind of the reader with great force. Take, for example, the following:

In the following, diminutives are handled with telling effect:

The reader will observe that the method also of ridicule is the same. A hundred examples of this might be selected from both; and he has, doubtless, already noticed the biting satire of both. The Letters of Junius are among the finest specimens of satire in the English language, and are only equaled by Mr. Paine's Letters to Lord Howe, and passages in his Rights of Man to Mr. Burke. I will give a few extracts. It will be remembered how Junius called the king not only a "ruffian," but said "nature only intended him for a good humored fool," and that if he ever retired to America he would get a severe covenant to digest from a people who united in detesting the pageantry of a king and the supercilious hypocrisy of a bishop. With this remembrance I will submit the following piece of satire from Crisis, No. vi:

"Your rightful sovereign, as you call him, may do well enough for you, who dare not inquire into the humble capacities of the man; but we, who estimate persons and things by their real worth, can not suffer our judgment to be so imposed upon; and unless it is your wish to see him exposed, it ought to be your endeavor to keep him out of sight. The less you have to say about him the better. We have done with him, and that ought to be answer enough. You have been often told so. Strange! that the answer must be so often repeated. You go a begging with your king as with a brat, or with some unsalable commodity you are tired of; and though every body tells you no, no, still you keep hawking him about. But there is one that will have him in a little time, and as we have no inclination to disappoint you of a customer, we bid nothing for him."

Many passages of similar severity could be collected. In fact, the two Letters addressed to Lord Howe are not equaled in force or severity by the most savage of Junius' productions. I now call attention to other parallel peculiarities.

The manner of threatening, commanding, and warning, is, the same:

But examples of this kind are not wanting in any chapter or Letter. The threat, the command, the warning, is a peculiarity so prominent that no one would fail to observe it. And this peculiarity often passes into the style of prophecy. As above, Junius says: "The period is not very distant," and Mr. Paine repeats the expression in the same style: "The time is not very distant." This reveals, not a literary theft, but a mind whose mode of thinking and expression was ever the same.

The reader will furthermore notice the peculiarity in the use of "sir," and the expressions, "You, Sir William," "You, sir," so common to both. This arises from the proud and commanding character of Mr. Paine. He always talks as one having authority, when addressing those he wishes to satirize, but with an avowed modesty when addressing those he wishes to influence. This last is seen in Junius, with regard to Lords Rockingham and Chatham, when speaking of parliamentary reform, and in Common Sense, when speaking of a constitution and methods of taxation. Junius says, after giving his own views: "Other measures may, undoubtedly, be supported in argument, as better adapted to the disorder, or more likely to be obtained." And Common Sense says: "In a former page I threw out a few thoughts on the propriety of a continental charter, for I only presume to offer hints, not plans." These things point to the same mental source, and this characteristic influences the style to a marked degree.

I call attention now to what is termed alliteration: the bringing words together commencing with the same letter, as follows:

The above are only a few examples. Almost every page exhibits this feature of the writer. It is a mania with Mr. Paine, and it is almost the first observable feature of Junius. No other author that I have read so abounds in alliteration. But herein Junius and Mr. Paine, not content with two words, frequently unite three, as in some of the examples above. They also bring two words thus together, and ascending from the sound to the sense, give them relationship in meaning; as in the last examples above.

As alliteration exhibits a law of the mind, it can easily be determined, by the rule of averages, whether Mr. Paine and Junius agree. I have estimated the ratio by counting twenty thousand words in each, and have found them to average the same. Were all the words in Junius counted and compared with the same number in Mr. Paine's political writings, it would give the true law of averages, but twenty thousand words will give an approximation not far from the truth.

There is another peculiarity in the style of Mr. Paine and Junius, arising out of this law of the mind, or this mania for alliteration, which is to continue the alliteration throughout the paragraph. For example, if a prominent word begins with an f, t, or p, or any other letter, he continues to select words beginning with the same letter, or in which the sound is prominent, while expressing the same thought or idea. In the following he plays upon like letters in a wonderful manner. I will put the words in italics:

I have not gone out of my way for the above examples. Thousands of just such examples may be taken from both. This, together with the even length of the members of the period, is what produces the rythm and harmony of Mr. Paine's style, and which I have never seen paralleled, except in Junius. I have compared it with a hundred authors, and never have I found any thing like it. But Junius is in no respect unlike Mr. Paine. Had a perfect portrait been painted of Mr. Paine, at the time he wrote his Common Sense, and another at the time Junius wrote his Letters, the two portraits could not have more resembled each other than does the style of Junius resemble that of Mr. Paine. And this is what can not be imitated, for it arises out of the constitution of the mind, just like poetry or music; and the poet and musician are born, not made.

Mr. Paine and Junius never use poetry, unless it be a line at the head of a piece. And they both ridicule the use of it in prose composition.

They sometimes wander from the point, and then bring the reader back by mentioning the fact:

Another peculiarity is the method of bringing the subject "into one view:"

I have before called attention to the manner in which Mr. Paine signed his Introduction to Common Sense, and Junius his Dedication; but there is a similarity in the manner in which they frequently close their pieces. The expressions, "To conclude," "I shall conclude," "I shall therefore conclude," are used by both.

There is a marked peculiarity in taking illustrations from the Bible, and I now speak of and compare the political writings of Mr. Paine with Junius. Junius is filled with such references, and they are no less plentiful in Common Sense. This leads me on to speak of figures of speech.

In the use of the trope I find the one a reproduction of the other. The metaphor comes before us in every conceivable beauty, and herein they paint with an artist's skill, and the many delicate touches, as well as bold strokes, show the same hand at the brush. There is never, for example, a long and labored metaphor; never a company of them together; never one that does not apply with admirable effect.

At the close of an article, a figure of speech is often used with a master's skill, and leaves an impression on the mind of the reader not easily effaced. In this they are alike. Junius, for example, closes thirty-six of his Letters in this manner; and in Mr. Paine's three works—Common Sense, The Crisis, and Rights of Man—he closes twenty-three parts in this manner, which gives us about the same ratio. They both abound in metaphor and comparison. Seldom do they use allegory or hyperbole, but personification and exclamation are frequent. I will now give a few parallels which I have selected from the many examples, and I will begin the list with exclamations so common to both:

The expression, "I thank God!" is the most frequent with both. As this is not common with writers, the parallel is a strong one. But to continue:

In the last metaphor nature personified is brought forward as the actor, by turning to ridicule the vanity of man in assuming more than he is. Junius, without expressing it in words, has put forward the fable of the ass in a lion's skin, when speaking of Lord Granby's courage. But Mr. Paine has applied the same fable to the king. The figures are differently expressed but exactly the same.

The above is the same figure, but differently applied. This figure is quite often used by Mr. Paine and Junius.

There are two facts in the above parallel showing that the same mind indited both. First: Turning away from those who have deserved and who have been receiving his censure to the friends of the cause; and, Secondly: The call which immediately follows: "I call upon you." That it was not stolen from Junius by Mr. Paine, is proven by two facts. First: The language and figure are different; and, Secondly: That which makes it a parallel it is impossible to steal. It is a parallel of conditions, the one in England and the other in America. But if Junius were not Mr. Paine, then would the conditions be destroyed. But there is a parallel of conditions, which can not be plagiarized; therefore Thomas Paine was Junius.

If it be argued in answer to this reasoning: There might be just such conditions existing with the character Junius in England as with Paine in America, which might produce a parallel as above, I admit the possibility; but the chances are infinity to one against such a hypothesis.

But to reduce the chances still more, let us bring a parallel of fact to illustrate a principle of national honor.

The above parallel, like the preceding one, arises primarily in the mind from the association of ideas. The definition of national honor is the same, and arose out of the same transaction. Taking away the rudder from an English frigate was a national insult, but instead of demanding reparation of the king of Spain, the king of England would satisfy his honor by attacking a king's servant, which furnishes the materials for the censure of Junius, and Admiral Saunders would be satisfied to see the city of Madrid laid in ashes, which furnishes the just ground for the aspersions of Mr. Paine; and from thence they define national honor to be that deportment which is best suited to an individual. They both state the case, and then define; the method and figures are the same. But there is another parallel in these two pieces, and in the same connection. Mr. Paine and Junius both use very harsh language in commenting on the facts in the case, and when they close their censure they say:

This apology taken in the same connection, shows the same mind, for it is a law of nature, whether exhibited in mind or matter, that when given the same conditions the same results follow. Now if Thomas Paine be not Junius, then would no such parallels be found; for, as before remarked, literary theft is impossible, inasmuch as conditions can not be stolen, and more especially the most important condition in the above case, mental constitution. In other words the case is stated by the same person, in the same style, but not in the same language.

In the above Mr. Paine applies this figure of political chemistry to the causes which led to the separation of the colonies from England. Junius is speaking to the Duke of Grafton. "Menstruum" and "Caput mortuum," are old chemical terms. The former means that which will dissolve, and the latter the worthless matter which is left. They are both figures of analysis, and show the writer to have given his attention to chemistry. Mr. Paine, it is well known, in 1775, shortly after arriving in America, "set his talents to work" to make saltpeter by some cheap and expeditious method, and formed an association to supply gratuitously the national magazines with powder. This fact also shows that Mr. Paine came to America to fight England; for it was before he had written his Common Sense. His object was, to be prepared; his method was, first the powder and then the Declaration of Independence, which last was produced by the pamphlet Common Sense.

Mr. Paine and Junius both reasoned, and this very often, from the nature of man, and especially his passions. The following are parallels:

The last parallel above will bear a moment's thought and study. Paine says: "Without the least merit in the man." Junius says: "We owe it to the bounty of Providence." They were both deeply read in the history of the human heart. The following is of the same nature, showing the same mental philosophy:

The above are a few of the similar figures which have come under my eye. The careful reader will, doubtless, find many more, as I have given my attention to a multiplicity of subjects in this investigation, and many parallels would thus escape me. But I have given more than sixty, which ought to arrest the attention of any thinking man. Together with the above may be taken parallel phrases frequently used by both; for example: "I affirm," "Excess of folly," "In point of," "Give the lie to," "For several reasons," "Branded with," "It signifies not," "Circumstanced," "For my own part," "In short," "Forever," "Common cause."

I now pass on to those figures of speech which come in the form of argumentation, as antithesis and interrogation.

Antithesis is a species of word painting. It is to an argument what light and shade are to a painting. There can, therefore, be no argument without antithesis in some form. It may be defined, contrasting or placing in opposition opinions, sentiments, and ideas. The following are examples:

As would naturally be expected from what has already been brought forward, in regard to the mental constitution of Mr. Paine, he abounds in this figure and style of argumentation; and it is the same with Junius. Sentence after sentence, and period after period, are in antithesis. The expressions, "On the one hand, and on the other," "At home and abroad," "On this side, and on that," are the constant companions of both. Hence the method, also, in both, of bringing forward contradictions in the conduct and character of individuals, or in any proposition they are attacking. This is the language, also, of ridicule; the contradiction makes it absurd, the incongruity ridiculous. Antithesis is, therefore, an argumentative figure of speech, in which contrast or comparison is made to present an image of things or principles to the mind. It is to rhetoric what light and shade are to painting. In no other way can a writer paint a picture. Hence, when Mr. Paine says, "Were I disposed to paint a contrast," and when Junius says, "Imagine what you might be, and then reflect upon what you are," they reveal the gift of that tremendous power they exhibit in their productions.

It is from this constitutional arrangement of the mind which makes a man a good mathematician. For, if one will trace a mathematical process of reasoning, he will find it to be a system of comparisons or antitheses—and nothing else—having foundation primarily in equality. The idea of equality is the origin of mathematics. It was, therefore, a mathematician who wrote Junius. We can not go wrong in this conclusion, for we reason from first principles, and we would expect to find his style and language assuming mathematical preciseness, and only equaled by Mr. Paine in argumentation.

From what has already been said, we would expect to find the frequent use of the dilemma, and the reductio ad absurdum—or, that the contrary of what is true leads to the absurd.

I give the following dilemmas:

But those methods of argumentation are only a species of antithesis, and may all be reduced to the one fundamental form of comparison. This may remind us of the fact that all improvement arises from comparison, whether in language, government, or personal experience.

I have one marked feature of argumentative figure to point out, and this is, interrogation. This is insinuation without direct attack, a sort of flank movement, when charges are made that can not be proven, or when too evident to need proof. This style is also not only common to both Mr. Paine and Junius, but so prominent that it attracts attention at once.

It is frequently the case with Mr. Paine and Junius that "language fails," that is, it is poured forth in such torrents of abuse that the reader is made painfully aware of it, and to recapture the mind of the reader, they artfully charge it to the impossibility of doing justice to so bad a subject. For example:

In the last parallel above, it will be noticed, the strong terms were called forth by a sacrifice of national honor with Great Britain, and a prospect of it in the United States. I call attention to this in this place to save repetition of proofs, showing that proud spirit of personal honor so prominent in Paine and Junius, and from which they both say: national honor is governed by the same rules as personal honor. I now pass to notice the most prominent mental characteristics.

MENTAL CHARACTERISTICS.

If the reader will carry forward in his mind what I have already said on style and the object for which Mr. Paine and Junius wrote, it will greatly aid me in reducing the size of this book. I shall act on the principle of this suggestion, and while I give new matter upon new subjects, the reader will find the parallels greatly strengthened by what has already been said. The reader will also apply the facts already brought forward to the passages I shall hereafter present, so that, like a two-edged sword, it may be made to cut both ways. And first of avarice and the miser: