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:

Common Sense. Junius.
"Society in every state is a blessing, but government even in its best state is but a necessary evil. In its worst state, an intolerable one; for when we suffer or are exposed to the same miseries by a government which we might expect in a country without government, our calamity is heightened by reflecting, that we furnish the means by which we suffer. Government, like dress, is the badge of lost innocence. The palaces of kings are built upon the ruins of the bowers of paradise, for were the impulses of conscience clear, uniform, and irresistibly obeyed, man would need no other law-giver; but that not being the case, he finds it necessary to surrender up a part of his property to furnish means for the protection of the rest; and this he is induced to do by the same prudence which in every other case advises him out of two evils to choose the least." "It is not in the nature of human society that any form of government in such circumstances can long be preserved."—Let. 35.

"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.

"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."—Let. 1.

"If conscience plays the tyrant it would be greatly for the benefit of the world that she were more arbitrary and far less placable than some men find her."—Let. 27.

"I lament the unhappy necessity whenever it arises of providing for the safety of the state by a temporary invasion of the personal liberty of the subject."—Let. 58.

"Junius feels and acknowledges the evil in the most express terms, and will show himself ready to concur in any rational plan that may provide for the liberty of the individual without hazarding the safety of the community."—Let. 63.

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:

Common Sense. Junius.
"This will point out the convenience of their consenting to leave the legislative part to be managed by a select number chosen from the whole body, who are supposed to have the same interests at stake which those have who appointed them, and who will act in the same manner as the whole body would were they present. If the colony continue increasing, it will become necessary to augment the number of representatives; and that the interest of every part of the colony may be attended to, it will be found best to divide the whole into convenient parts, each part sending its proper number; and that the elected might never form to themselves an interest separate from the electors, prudence will point out the propriety of having elections often; because, as the elected might by that means return and mix again with the general body of the electors, in a few months their fidelity to the public will be secured by the prudent reflection of making a rod for themselves. And as this frequent interchange will establish a common interest with every part of the community, they will mutually and naturally support each other, and on this (not on the unmeaning name of king) depends the strength of government and the happiness of the governed."

"Here, then, is the origin and rise of government; viz, a mode rendered necessary by the inability of moral virtue to govern the world; here, too, is the design and end of government, viz: freedom and security. And however our eyes may be dazzled with show, or our ears deceived by sound; however prejudice may warp our wills, or interest darken our understanding, the simple voice of nature and reason will say, it is right."

"The House of Commons are only interpreters whose duty it is to convey the sense of the people faithfully to the crown; if the interpretation be false or imperfect, the constituent powers are called to deliver their own sentiments. Their speech is rude but intelligible; their gestures fierce but full of explanation. Perplexed with sophistries, their honest eloquence rises into action."—Let. 38.

"I am convinced that if shortening the duration of parliaments (which, in effect, is keeping the representative under the rod of the constituent) be not made the basis of our new parliamentary jurisprudence, other checks or improvements signify nothing. On the contrary, if this be made the foundation, other measures may come in aid, and, as auxiliaries, be of considerable advantage. If we are sincere in the political creed we profess, there are many things can not be done by king, lords and commons."—Let. 68.

"The free election of our representatives in parliament comprehends, because it is the source and security of every right and privilege of the English nation. The ministry have realized the compendious ideas of Caligula. They know that the liberty, the laws, and property of an Englishman, have in truth but one neck, and that to violate the freedom of election strikes deeply at them all."—Let. 39.

"Does the law of parliament, which we are often told is the law of the land; does the right of every subject of the realm, depend upon an arbitrary, capricious vote of one branch of the legislature? The voice of truth and reason must be silent."—Let. 20.

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.

Common Sense. Junius.
"But the constitution of England is so exceedingly complex, that the nation may suffer for years together without being able to discover in which part the fault lies; some will say in one, some in another, and every political physician will advise a different medicine." "After a rapid succession of changes, we are reduced to that state which hardly any change can mend. 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."—Let. 1.

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.

Common Sense. Junius.
"I know it is difficult to get over local or long standing prejudices, yet if we will suffer ourselves to examine the component parts of the English constitution, we will find them to be the base remains of two ancient tyrannies, compounded with some new republican materials.

First: The remains of monarchical tyranny in the person of the king.

Secondly: The remains of aristocratical tyranny in the persons of the peers.

Thirdly: The new republican materials in the persons of the commons, on whose virtue depends the freedom of England."

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"The nearer any government approaches to a republic, the less business there is for a king. It is somewhat difficult, to find a proper name for the government of England. Sir William Meredith calls it a republic, but in its present state it is unworthy of the name, because the corrupt influence of the crown by having all the places at its disposal, hath so effectually swallowed up the power, and eaten out the virtue of the House of Commons (the republican part in the constitution), that the government of England is nearly as monarchical as that of France or Spain. Men fall out with names without understanding them. For it is the republican and not the monarchical part of the constitution of England, which Englishmen glory in, viz: the liberty of choosing a House of Commons from out their own body; and it is easy to see, that when republican virtue fails, slavery ensues. Why is the constitution of England sickly, but because monarchy hath poisoned the republic, the crown hath engrossed the commons."

"I confess, sir, that I felt the prejudices of my education in favor of a House of Commons still hanging about me.... The state of things is much altered in this country since it was necessary to protect our representatives against the direct power of the crown. We have nothing to apprehend from prerogative, but every thing from undue influence."—Let. 44.

See how Junius now bows to monarchy in order to strike it: "I can more readily admire the liberal spirit and integrity, than the sound judgment of any man who prefers a republican form of government in this or any other empire of equal extent, to a monarchy so qualified and limited as ours. I am convinced that neither is it in theory the wisest system of government, nor practicable in this country. Yet, though I hope the English constitution will forever preserve its original monarchical form, I would have the manners of the people purely and strictly republican. I do not mean the licentious spirit of anarchy and riot; I mean a general attachment to the common weal, distinct from any partial attachment to persons or families; an implicit submission to the laws only; and an affection to the magistrate proportioned to the integrity and wisdom with which he distributes justice to the people, and administers their affairs. The present habit of our political body appears to me the very reverse of what it ought to be. The form of the constitution leans rather more than enough to the popular branch; while in effect the manners of the people (of those at least who are likely to take the lead in the country) incline too generally to a dependence upon the crown. The real friends of arbitrary power combine the facts, and are not inconsistent with their principles, when they strenuously support the unwarrantable privileges assumed by the House of Commons. In these circumstances it were much to be desired that we had many such men as Mr. Sawbridge to represent us in parliament. I speak from common report and opinion only, when I impute to him a speculative predilection in favor of a republic. In the personal conduct and manners of the man I can not be mistaken. He has shown himself possessed of that republican firmness which the times require, and by which an English gentleman may be as usefully and as honorably distinguished as any citizen of ancient Rome, of Athens, or Lacedemon."—Let. 58.

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.

Common Sense. Junius.
"To say that the constitution of England is a union of three powers, reciprocally checking each other, is farcical; either the words have no meaning, or they are flat contradictions. To say that the commons is a check upon the king presupposes two things:

"First.—That the king is not to be trusted without being looked after; or, in other words, that a thirst for absolute power is the natural disease of monarchy.

"Secondly.—That the commons, by being appointed for that purpose, are either wiser, or more worthy of confidence than the crown.

"There is something exceedingly ridiculous in the composition of monarchy—it first excludes a man from the means of information, yet empowers him to act in cases where the highest judgment is required. The state of a king shuts him from the world, yet the business of a king requires him to know it thoroughly; wherefore, the different parts, by unnaturally opposing and destroying each other, prove the whole character to be absurd and useless."

That the crown is this overbearing part in the English constitution, needs not to be mentioned; and that it derives its whole consequence merely from being the giver of places and pensions, is self-evident. Wherefore, though we have been wise enough to shut and lock a door against absolute monarchy, we at the same time have been foolish enough to put the crown in possession of the key.

The prejudice of Englishmen in favor of their own government by king, lords, and commons, arises as much or more from national pride than reason. Individuals are undoubtedly safer in England than in some other countries, but the will of the king is as much the law of the land in Britain as in France, with this difference: that, instead of proceeding directly from his mouth, it is handed to the people under the formidable shape of an act of parliament. For the fate of Charles the First hath only made kings more subtle—not more just.

"Wherefore, laying aside all national pride and prejudice in favor of modes and forms, the plain truth is that it is wholly owing to the constitution of the people, and not the constitution of the government, that the crown is not as oppressive in England as in Turkey."

"The three branches of the legislature 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 the liberty of the commonwealth."—Let. 39.

In speaking of and to the king, he says:

"It has been the misfortune of your life, and originally the cause of every reproach and distress which has attended your government, that you should never have been acquainted with the language of truth until you heard it in the complaints of your people."—Let. 35.

"A faultless, insipid equality in his character is neither capable of virtue or vice in the extreme, but it secures his submission to those persons whom he has been accustomed to respect, and makes him a dangerous instrument of their ambition. Secluded from the world, attached from his infancy to one set of persons and one set of ideas, he can neither open his heart to new connections, nor his mind to better information."—Let. 39.

Of the king's influence on parliament, he says:

"It is arbitrary and notoriously under the influence of the crown."—Let. 44.

"I beg you will convey to your gracious master my humble congratulations upon the glorious success of peerages and pensions, so lavishly distributed as the rewards of Irish virtue."—Let. 66.

"That the sovereign of this country is not amenable to any form of trial known to the laws, is unquestionable; but exemption from punishment is a singular privilege annexed to the royal character, and no way excludes the possibility of deserving it. How long and to what extent a king of England may be protected by the forms, when he violates the spirit of the constitution, deserves to be considered. A mistake in this matter proved fatal to Charles and his son."—Preface to Junius.

"The consequences of this attack upon the constitution are too plain and palpable not to alarm the dullest apprehension. I trust you will find that the people of England are neither deficient in spirit or understanding, though you have treated them as if they had neither sense to feel, nor spirit to resent. We have reason to thank God and our ancestors that there never yet was a minister in this country who could stand the issue of such a conflict, and, with every prejudice in favor of your intentions, I see no such abilities in your grace as should enable you to succeed in an enterprise in which the ablest and basest of your predecessors have found their destruction.... Never hope that the freeholders will make a tame surrender of their rights, or that an English army will join with you in overturning the liberties of their country."—Let. 11.

I will now present their doctrine of equal rights:

Common Sense. Junius.
"Mankind being originally equals in the order of creation, the equality could not be destroyed by some subsequent circumstance....

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"As the exalting one man so greatly above the rest, can not be justified on the equal rights of nature....

"For all men being originally equals, no one by birth could have a right to set up his own family in perpetual preference to all others forever, and though himself might deserve some decent degree of honors of his cotemporaries, yet his descendants might be far too unworthy to inherit them. One of the strongest natural proofs of the folly of hereditary right in kings, is, that nature disproves it, otherwise she would not so frequently turn it into ridicule by giving mankind an ass for a lion."

"In the rights of freedom we are all equal....

"The least considerable man among us has an interest equal to the proudest nobleman."—Let. 37.

"When the first original right of the people, from which all laws derive their authority," etc.—Let. 30.

"Those sacred original rights which belonged to them before they were soldiers."—Let. 11.

"Those original rights of your subjects, on which all their civil and political liberties depend....

"If the English people should no longer confine their resentment to a submissive representation of their wrongs; if, following the glorious example of their ancestors, they should no longer appeal to the creature of the constitution, but to that high Being who gave them the rights of humanity, whose gifts it were sacrilege to surrender; let me ask you, sir, upon what part of your subjects would you rely for assistance?"—Address to the king, Let. 35.

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:

Common Sense. Junius.
"In England, a king hath little more to do than to make war and give away places, which, in plain terms, is to impoverish the nation and set it together by the ears. A pretty business, indeed, for a man to be allowed eight hundred thousand sterling a year for, and worshiped into the bargain! Of more worth is one honest man to society and in the sight of God than all the crowned ruffians that ever lived.

"But where, say some, is the king of America? I'll tell you, friend, he reigns above, and doth not make havoc of mankind, like the royal brute of Britain."

In commenting on the sentence spoken of the king, "by whose NOD ALONE they were permitted to do anything," he says: "Here is idolatry even without a mask; and he who can calmly hear and digest such doctrine, hath forfeited his claim to rationality; is an apostate from the order of manhood, and ought to be considered as one who hath not only given up the proper dignity of man, but sunk himself beneath the rank of animals, and contemptibly crawls through the world like a worm. However, it matters very little now what the king of England either says or does; he hath wickedly broken through every moral and human obligation, trampled nature and conscience under his feet; and, by a steady and unconstitutional spirit of insolence and cruelty, procured for himself an universal hatred."

I shall now give two passages from another portion of Mr. Paine's work to parallel with the last two of Junius on the king:

"Good heavens! what volumes of thanks does America owe to Britain! What infinite obligation to the tool that fills with paradoxical vacancy the throne!"—Crisis, iii.

"The connection between vice and meanness is a fit subject for satire, but when the satire is a fact it cuts with the irresistible power of a diamond. If a Quaker, in defense of his just rights, his property, and the chastity of his house, takes up a musket he is expelled the meeting; but the present king of England, who seduced and took into keeping a sister of their society, is reverenced and supported by repeated testimonies, while the friendly noodle from whom she was taken, and who is now in this city, continues a drudge in the service of his rival, as if proud of being cuckolded by a creature called a king."—Crisis, iii.

The above will explain a passage in Junius—Let. 56—which is as follows: "You must confess that even Charles the Second would have blushed at that open encouragement, at those eager, meretricious caresses, with which every species of private vice and public prostitution is received at St. James'."

"For my own part, far from thinking that the king can do no wrong; far from suffering myself to be deterred or imposed upon by the language of forms; if it were my misfortune to live under the inauspicious reign of a prince, whose whole life was employed in one base, contemptible struggle with the free spirit of his people, or in the detestable endeavor to corrupt their moral principles, I would not scruple to declare to him: 'Sir, you alone are the author of the greatest wrong to your subjects and to yourself.... Has not the strength of the crown, whether influence or prerogative, been uniformly exerted for eleven years together, to support a narrow, pitiful system of government, which defeats itself and answers no one purpose of real power, profit, or personal satisfaction to you?'"—Pref.

"The minister who, by secret corruption, invades the freedom of elections, and the ruffian [meaning the king] who, by open violence, destroys that freedom, are embarked in the same bottom."—Let. 8.

"When Junius observes that kings are ready enough to follow such advice, he does not mean to insinuate that, if the advice of Parliament were good, the king would be so ready to follow it."—Let. 45.

"There is surely something singularly benevolent in the character of our sovereign. From the moment he ascended the throne, there is no crime of which human nature is capable (and I call upon the recorder to witness it) that has not appeared venial in his sight."—Let. 48.

"I know that man [the king] much better than any of you. Nature intended him only for a good humored fool. A systematical education, with long practice, has made him a consummate hypocrite.... What would have been the triumph of that odious hypocrite and his minions if Wilkes had been defeated? It was not your fault, reverend sir, that he did not enjoy it completely."—Let. 51, to Rev. Mr. Horne.

"Though the Kennedies were convicted of a most deliberate and atrocious murder, they still had a claim to the royal mercy. They were saved by the chastity of their connections. They had a sister; yet it was not her beauty, but the pliancy of her virtue, that recommended her to the king.

"The holy author of our religion was seen in the company of sinners; but it was his gracious purpose to convert them from their sins. Another man who, in the ceremonies of our faith, might give lessons to the great enemy of it, upon different principles, keeps much the same company. He advertises for patients, collects all the diseases of the heart, and turns a royal palace into an hospital for incurables. A man of honor has no ticket of admission at St. James'. They receive him like a virgin at the Magdalen's—'Go thou and do likewise.'"—Let. 67, to Lord Mansfield.

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:

Paine. Junius.
"Many circumstances have and will arise which are not local."—Introduc. "If this be your meaning and opinion, you will act consistently with it in choosing Mr. Nash."—Let. 57.

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:

Paine. Junius.
"It was not Newton's honor, neither could it be his pride, that he was an Englishman, but that he was a philosopher; the heavens had liberated him from the prejudices of an island, and science had expanded his soul as boundless as his studies."—Crisis, viii.

"The heart that feels not now is dead; the blood of his children will curse his cowardice who shrinks back at a time when a little might have saved the whole, and made them happy. I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection."... Speaking of the principles of war, he continues: "What signifies it to me whether he who does it is a king or a common man; my countryman or not my countryman; whether it be done by an individual villain or an army of them?... Let them call me rebel and welcome; I feel no concern from it, but I should suffer the misery of devils were I to make a whore of my soul by swearing allegiance to one whose character is that of a sottish, stupid, stubborn, worthless, brutish man!... There are cases which can not be overdone by language, and this is one."—Crisis, i.

"You have still an honorable part to act. The affections of your subjects may still be recovered; but, before you subdue their hearts, you must gain a noble victory over your own. Discard those little personal resentments which have too long directed your public conduct. Pardon this man the remainder of his punishment; and, if resentment still prevails, make it what it should have been long since—an act, not of mercy, but of contempt. He will soon fall back into his natural station, a silent senator, and hardly supporting the weekly eloquence of a newspaper. The gentle breath of peace would leave him on the surface neglected and unremoved; it is only the tempest that lifts him from his place.

"Without consulting your ministers, call together your whole council. Let it appear to the public that you can determine and act for yourself. Come forward to your people. Lay aside the wretched formalities of a king, and speak to your subjects with the spirit of a man, and in the language of a gentleman.... These sentiments, sir, and the style they are conveyed in, may be offensive, perhaps, because they are new to you."—Let. 35.

In the following, diminutives are handled with telling effect:

Paine. Junius.
"Indolence and inability have too large a share in your composition ever to suffer you to be any thing more than the hero of little villainies and unfinished adventures."—To Lord Howe, Crisis, v.

"That a man whose soul is absorbed in the low traffic of vulgar vice, is incapable of moving in any superior region, is clearly shown in you by the event of every campaign."—To Lord Howe, Crisis, v.

"You may plan and execute little mischiefs, but are they worth the expense they cost you, or will such partial evils have any effect on the general cause? Your expedition to Egg Harbor will be felt at a distance like an attack upon a hen-roost, and expose you in Europe with a sort of childish frenzy."—Crisis, vi.

"About this time the courtiers talked of nothing but a bill of pains and penalties against the lord mayor and sheriffs, or impeachment at the least. Little Mannikin Ellis told the king that if the business were left to his management he would engage to do wonders. It was thought very odd that a business of so much importance should be intrusted to the most contemptible little piece of machinery in the whole kingdom. His honest zeal, however, was disappointed. The minister took fright, and at the very instant that little Ellis was going to open, sent him an order to sit down. All their magnanimous threats ended in a ridiculous vote of censure, and a still more ridiculous address to the king."—Note, Let. 38.

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:

Paine. Junius.
"I hold up a warning to your senses, if you have any left.... I call, not with the rancor of an enemy, but the earnestness of a friend, on the deluded people of England.... There is not a nobleman's country seat but may be laid in ashes by a single person."—Crisis, vi.

"A change of the ministry in England may probably bring your measures into question and your head to the block."—To Lord Howe, Crisis, v.

"Go home, sir, and endeavor to save the remains of your ruined country by a just representation of the madness or her measures. A few moments well applied may yet preserve her from political destruction."—Crisis, v.

"The farce of monarchy and aristocracy in all countries is following that of chivalry, and Mr. Burke is dressing for the funeral. The time is not very distant when England will laugh at itself for sending to Holland, Hanover, Zell, or Brunswick, for men, at the expense of a million a year, who understand neither her laws, her language, nor her interest, and whose capacities would scarcely have fitted them for the office of parish constable."—Rights of Man.

"The English nation must be roused and put upon its guard.... The corruption of the legislative body on this side, a military force on the other, and then farewell to England."—Let. 40.

"Sullen and severe without religion, profligate without gayety, you live like Charles the Second, without being an amiable companion, and, for aught I know, may die as his father did, without the reputation of a martyr."—Let. 12.

"Return, my lord, before it be too late, to that easy, insipid system which you first set out with. Take back your mistress. Indulge the people. Attend New Market. To be weak and inactive is safer than to be daring and criminal; and wide is the distance between a riot of the populace and a convulsion of the whole kingdom."—Let. 11.

"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."—Dedication.

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:

Paine. Junius.
 
Conduct and character.
Mark the movements and meaning.
For law as for land.
Fears and falsities.
Prejudice and prepossession.
Patron and punisher.
Wise and worthy.
Stay and starve.
Reconciliation and ruin are nearly related.
Best and brightest.
Character and conduct.
Concurrence of calamitous circumstances.
Catchpenny contrivance.
Dignity of the design.
Enormous excesses.
Faith and folly.
Fashionable formality.
Pernicious principles, etc.
Good faith and folly have long been received as synonymous terms.

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:

Paine. Junius.
"Perhaps the sentiments contained in the following pages, are not yet sufficiently fashionable to procure them general favor; a long habit of not thinking a thing wrong gives it a superficial appearance of being right, and raises, at first, a formidable outcry in defense of custom. But the tumult soon subsides. Time makes more converts than reason."—C. S., Introd. "Prejudices and passions 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."—Let. 1.

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.

Paine. Junius.
"I can consider Mr. Burke's book in scarcely any other light than a dramatic performance, and he must, I think, have considered it in the same light himself by the poetical liberties he has taken of omitting some facts, distorting others, and making the machinery bend to produce a stage effect.... I have now to follow Mr. Burke through a pathless wilderness of rhapsodies."—Rights of Man, part i. "These letters, my lord, are read in other countries and in other languages, and I think I may affirm without vanity, that the gracious character of the best of princes is by this time not only perfectly known to his subjects, but tolerably well understood by the rest of Europe. In this respect alone I have the advantage of Mr. Whitehead. His plan, I think, is too narrow. He seems to manufacture his verses for the sole use of the hero who is supposed to be the subject of them, and, that his meaning may not be exported in foreign bottoms, sets all translation at defiance."—Let. 49.

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

Paine. Junius.
"But to return to the case in question."—Crisis, vii and xiii. "Passing on from this digression, I shall now endeavor to bring into one view the several parts."—Crisis, viii. "But to return to my account."—Rights of Man, part i. "But, sir, I am sensible I have followed your example too long, and wandered from the point."—Let. 18.

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

Paine. Junius.
See last quotation above. "Having now finished this subject, I shall bring the several parts into one view."—Rights of Man, part ii. "This, sir, is the detail. In one view, behold," etc.—Let. 1.

See also Letter 13.

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:

Paine. Junius.
Alas!
I thank God!
For God's sake!
In the name of Heaven!
Good God!
Good Heavens!
I pray God!
But, alas!
I thank God!
Would to God!
In God's name!
May God protect me!
I appeal to God for my sincerity!
I pray God!

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:

Paine. Junius.
"Every political physician will advise a different medicine."—Common Sense. "It is not the disorder, but the physician—it is the pernicious hand of government."—Let. 1.
"Why is the nation sickly?" "Infuse a portion of new health into the constitution."—Let. 68.
"Like a prodigal lingering in habitual consumption, you feel the relics of life, and mistake them for recovery."—Address to English people. "No man regards an eruption on the surface when the noble parts are invaded and he feels a mortification approaching the heart."—Let. 39.
"These are the times that try men's souls."—Crisis, i. "These are not the times to admit of any relaxation in the little discipline we have left."
The constituents "making a rod for themselves." "Under the rod of the constituent."
Speaking of Abbe Raynal's work, he calls it a "performance."—Letter to. Speaking of M. de Lolme's Essay on Government, he calls it a "performance."—Preface.
"At stake." This expression is very frequent. "At stake." This expression is very frequent.
"In one view." Quite frequent. "In one view." Quite frequent.
"The time is not very distant." "The period is not very distant."
"The simple voice of nature and reason will say it is right." "The voice of truth and reason must be silent."
"Where nature hath given the one she hath withheld the other." "Nature has been sparing of her gifts to this noble lord."
"For as the greater weight will always carry up the less, and all the wheels of a machine are put in motion by one, it only remains to know which power in the constitution has most weight." "We incline the balance as effectually by lessening the weight in the one scale as by increasing it in the other."

"You would fain be thought to take no share in government, while in reality you are the mainspring of the machine."

"One of the strongest natural proofs of the folly of hereditary right in kings is that nature disapproves it, otherwise she would not so frequently turn it into ridicule by giving mankind an ass for a lion." "It is you, Sir William, who make your friend appear awkward and ridiculous, by giving him a laced suit of tawdry qualifications which nature never intended him to wear."

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.

Paine. Junius.
"Like wasting an estate on a suit at law to regulate the trespasses of a tenant, whose lease is just expiring." "Like broken tenants who have had warning to quit the premises, they curse their landlord, destroy the fixtures, throw every thing into confusion, and care not what mischief they do the estate."

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

Paine. Junius.
"Quitting this class of men, I turn with the warm ardor of a friend, to those who have nobly stood and are yet determined to stand the matter out. I call not upon a few, but upon all, up and help us; lay your shoulders to the wheel."—Crisis, i. "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. I call upon you, in the name of the English nation, to stand forth in defense of the laws of your country and to exert in the cause of truth and justice those great abilities with which you were intrusted for the benefit of mankind."—Let. 68.

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.

Paine. Junius.
"There is such an idea in the world as that of national honor, and this falsely understood is oftentimes the cause of war. In a Christian and philosophical sense mankind seem to have stood still at individual civilizations, and to retain as nations all the original rudeness of nature. Peace by treaty is only a cessation of violence for a reformation of sentiment. It is a substitute for a principle that is wanting and ever will be wanting till the idea of national honor is rightly understood. I remember the late Admiral Saunders declaring in the House of Commons, and that in the time of peace, 'That the city of Madrid laid in ashes was not a sufficient atonement for the Spaniards taking off the rudder of an English sloop of war.' I do not ask whether this is Christianity or morality, I ask whether it is decency? whether it is proper language for a nation to use? In private life we call it by the plain name of bullying, and the elevation of rank can not alter its character. It is, I think, exceedingly easy to define what ought to be understood by national honor; for that which is the best character for an individual is the best character for a nation; and wherever the latter exceeds or falls beneath the former, there is a departure from the line of true greatness."—Crisis, vii. "If we recollect in what manner the king's friends have been constantly employed, we shall have no reason to be surprised at any condition of disgrace to which the once respected name of Englishman may be degraded.... The expedition against Port Egmont does not appear to have been a sudden ill-concerted enterprise: it seems to have been conducted, not only with the usual military precautions, but in all the forms and ceremonies of war. A frigate was first employed to examine the strength of the place. A message was then sent demanding immediate possession in the Catholic king's name, and ordering our people to depart. At last a military force appears and compels the garrison to surrender. A formal capitulation ensues, and his majesty's ship, which might at least have been permitted to bring home his troops immediately, is detained in port twenty days and her rudder forcibly taken away. This train of facts carries no appearance of the rashness or violence of a Spanish governor. Mr. Buccarelli is not a pirate, nor has he been treated as such by those who employed him. I feel for the honor of a gentleman when I affirm that our king owes him a signal reparation. When will the humility of this country end? A king of Great Britain, not contented with placing himself upon a level with a Spanish governor, descends so low as to do a notorious injustice to that governor. Thus it happens in private life with a man who has no spirit nor sense of honor. One of his equals orders a servant to strike him: instead of returning the blow to the master, his courage is contented with throwing an aspertion equally false and public upon the character of the servant."—Let. 42.