The Project Gutenberg eBook of Junius Unmasked: OR, Thomas Paine the Author of the Letters of Junius and the Declaration of Independence, by JOEL MOODY.

I. Of the origin and design of government. Here the first principles are laid down, and are such as to convince the mind of every man capable of thinking. He then shows that the English constitution is not founded upon such principles; and that a people seeking political happiness while clinging to such a rotten government, is like a man seeking connubial happiness while he is attached to a prostitute.

II. Of monarchy and hereditary succession. Here he brings out his great political axiom, the equality of man in the order of creation, and then ridicules the pretentions of kings, and demolishes the whole fabric of "sacred titles" by an appeal to sacred and profane history, to the rights of man, to his reason, to his affections, and to posterity. He has now prepared the mind of the American reader for the reception of truth, and he brings forward—

He begins by saying: "In the following pages I offer nothing more than simple facts, plain arguments, and common sense." It is now he warms with the subject, and having before prepared the mind with exalted views of government and with the axioms upon which all just governments are founded; having before shown that all legislative powers are derived from the people, and founded in the consent of the governed; having, in short, announced his bill of rights, he now comes forward with an indictment against England. This is full and complete, and by the time the reader has done with it he is then prepared for his final argument, which is—

He afterward added an appendix, in which he recounts the principal causes which impel the colonies to a separation.

The reader will remark the method of the whole piece. He takes hold of the mind by strategy at first, and then places before it principles, facts, causes, and consequences, till he has made it entirely his own.

If now the reader will return to the first Letter of Junius, he will find an admirable example of the same method. As to method, the two pieces are every way identical. Did a person not study this Letter of Junius, he would perhaps fail to get, at first, the exact likeness which Mr. Paine has so completely reproduced in Common Sense, as an artistic performance.

Junius' Letter to the king is also an example of the same method. There is, first, the bill of rights, and then the indictment. We find here the same strategy, which takes possession of the mind of the people, the same method to place the writer above and beyond selfish motives, the same foundation of principles, the same superstructure of argument, and the same method of bringing the reader to the conclusions. Herein we find policy.

The policy of Mr. Paine made him extremely cautious, and he weighed well the consequences of speaking to the public, studying especially the proper time. This was the habit of Junius also. I will now give a few examples: When the civil laws of England had been trampled on by the military, in the case of General Gansel, Junius delayed speaking about it. He says: "Had I taken it up at an earlier period, I should have been accused of an uncandid, malignant precipitation, as if I watched for an unfair advantage against the ministry, and would not allow them a reasonable time to do their duty. They now stand without excuse."—Let. 30. He then proceeds to strike the ministry "hip and thigh." In Letter 44 he also mentions the fact of having been silent, not from a "shameful indifference," but because he had determined to "not deliver a hasty opinion on a matter of so much delicacy and importance."

The same constitutional caution is exhibited in Mr. Paine. Upon national honor, in Crisis xii, dated May, 1782, he says: "In March, 1780, I published part of the Crisis, No. viii, in the newspapers, but did not conclude it in the following papers, and the remainder has lain by me till the present day. There appeared about that time some disposition in the British cabinet to cease the further prosecution of the war, and as I had formed my opinion that whenever such a design should take place, it would be accompanied by a dishonorable proposition to America respecting France, I had suppressed the remainder of that number, not to expose the baseness of any such proposition." He now incorporates it in this number, and then follows with one of the noblest productions on national honor which it has been the fortune of man to write.

Although the above doctrine that the people, not the legislature, are supreme, is not new, yet it was rarely asserted in the time of Paine, and renders the above parallel strong and peculiar. Even the same language is used in making the same application to the septennial act, which might as well have empowered the members of parliament to sit for life.

Both Paine and Junius frequently give vent to their detestation of gambling and gamblers. A single case in point is sufficient:

They both have the same opinion of the theater; but as the proof of this is only circumstantial, I will not cumber these pages with it. We know that Paine was a Quaker upon this point; and Junius contemptuously addresses Garrick, the actor, "Now mark me, vagabond! keep to your pantomimes," etc.

I now pass to consider their religious opinions. And, first, their views of God:

Mr. Paine wrote the Age of Reason as an argument against atheism on the one hand and fanaticism on the other. This he says himself.

I will now give the language of Mr. Paine on religion, infidelity, atheism, fanaticism, and morality, and then subscribe the language of Junius.

In his discourse to the Theophilanthropists of Paris, Mr. Paine says: "Religion has two principal enemies—fanaticism and infidelity, or that which is called atheism. The first requires to be combatted by reason or morality, the other by natural philosophy." In opposing atheism he makes intelligent force the God of the universe. This is his language: "God is the power, or first cause, nature is the law, and matter is the subject acted upon." That is, there is a duality in the universe—force and matter; and the action of force on matter produces the laws of nature, or, every phenomenon is produced by the motion of matter. He founds his argument against atheism on the motion of matter, and elaborates it in his clear and forcible style, and then says: "Where will infidelity—where will atheism find cause for this astonishing velocity of motion, never ceasing, never varying, and which is the preservation of the earth in its orbit? It is not by reasoning from an acorn to an oak, or from any change in the state of matter on the surface of the earth, that this can be accounted for. Its cause is not to be found in matter, nor in any thing we call nature. The atheist who affects to reason, and the fanatic who rejects reason, plunge themselves alike into inextricable difficulties. The one perverts the sublime and enlightening study of natural philosophy into a deformity of absurdities by not reasoning to the end, the other loses himself in the obscurity of metaphysical theories, and dishonors the Creator by treating the study of his works with contempt. The one is a half-rational of whom there is some hope, the other is a visionary to whom we must be charitable."

I wish the reader to compare with the last sentence above the following extracts from Junius, to be found in Letters 44 and 35: "The opinions of these men are too absurd to be easily renounced. Liberal minds are open to conviction, liberal doctrines are capable of improvement. There are proselytes from atheism, but none from superstition." "When once a man is determined to believe, the very absurdity of the doctrine confirms him in his faith."

But Junius, like Paine, was a religious man. In Letter 56, he says: "I know such a man; my lord, I know you both, and, with the blessing of God (for I, too, am religious), the people of England shall know you as well as I do."

As Mr. Paine has been misunderstood by the religious world, and as so much has been said against his religion that a prejudice deep and bitter now rests on the world against him, I will give a couple of extracts from his Rights of Man on this point. I confess that my own prejudices were so great against him (and I thought myself quite liberal), that they would not suffer me to read his works till quite recently. Such is the tyranny of religious instruction. The first extract is from the first part. In a note, he says: "There is a single idea, which, if it strikes rightly upon the mind, either in a legal or a religious sense, will prevent any man, or any body of men, or any government, from going wrong on the subject of religion; which is, that before any human institutions of government were known in the world, there existed, if I may so express it, a compact between God and man from the beginning of time; and that, as the relation and condition which man in his individual person stands in toward his Maker can not be changed by any human laws or human authority, that religious devotion, which is a part of this compact, can not so much as be made a subject of human laws; and that all laws must conform themselves to the prior-existing compact, and not assume to make the compact conform to the laws, which, besides being human, are subsequent thereto. The first act of man, when he looked around and saw himself a creature which he did not make, and a world furnished for his reception, must have been devotion; and devotion must ever continue sacred to every individual man, as it appears right to him, and governments do mischief by interfering."

The next extract is from part second, near its close, and I would call the attention of the reader to the beauty of the allegory:

"But as religion is very improperly made a political machine, and the reality of it is thereby destroyed, I will conclude this work with stating in what light religion appears to me.

"If we suppose a large family of children on any particular day, or particular occasion, made it a custom to present to their parents some token of their affection and gratitude, each of them would make a different offering, and most probably in a different manner. Some would pay their congratulations in themes of verse and prose, others by some little devices, as their genius dictated or according to what they thought would please; and, perhaps, the least of all, not able to do any of those things, would ramble into the garden or the field and gather what it thought the prettiest flower it could find, though perhaps it might be but a simple weed. The parents would be more gratified by such a variety than if the whole of them had acted on a concerted plan, and each had made exactly the same offering. This would have the cold appearance of contrivance, or the harsh one of control. But of all unwelcome things nothing would more afflict the parent than to know that the whole of them had afterwards gotten together by the ears, boys and girls, fighting, and reviling, and abusing each other about which was the best or the worst present.

"Why may we not suppose that the great Father of all is pleased with a variety of devotion; and that the greatest offense we can act is that by which we seek to torment and render each other miserable? For my own part I am fully satisfied that what I am now doing with an endeavor to conciliate mankind, to render their condition happy, to unite nations that have hitherto been enemies, and to extirpate the horrid practice of war, and break the chains of slavery and oppression, is estimable in his sight, and being the best service I can perform, I act it cheerfully.

"I do not believe that any two men, on what are called doctrinal points, think alike who think at all."

[And this, my reader, is Thomas Paine who hath spoken. I would like to have Henry Ward Beecher, after he has read this book, take the above passage as a text and preach a sermon from it.]

Junius is here speaking of the king, who with a narrow understanding would naturally have a narrow system of politics and religion. But again:

Above it is Philo Junius who is speaking; but the reader will remember he is the real Junius. He had been attacked for his impiety, and he puts Philo Junius forward to defend himself. The reader can not fail to notice the same hand in the last parallel. Paine says: "The writer of this is one of those few who never dishonors religion" by abusing the professors of it. And he never did. Junius ridiculed the ceremonial in the Catholic Church which denies the cup to the laity; and of this he says: "It is, in this country, as fair an object of ridicule as transubstantiation, or any other part of Lord Peter's History in the Tale of the Tub." This reminds me of what Paine says of popery and Peter: "A man hath as good reason to believe that there is as much of kingcraft as priestcraft in withholding the scripture from the public in popish countries. For monarchy in every instance is the popery of government."—Common Sense. In regard to Peter, we see the same temptation to touch his pen with satire and ridicule, and the passage may be found in Rights of Man, part first. It is as follows: "I will quote Mr. Burke's catalogue of barriers that he has set up between man and his maker. Putting himself in the character of a herald, he says: 'We fear God; we look with awe to kings; with affection to parliaments; with duty to magistrates; with reverence to priests; and with respect to nobility.' Mr. Burke has forgot to put in chivalry. He has also forgot to put in Peter."

They both considered it true that there is a wide difference between piety and morality. Paine himself says (and it is the noblest sentiment ever uttered by man): "My country is the world, and my religion is to do good." Junius frequently puts piety and morality in antithesis, as the following examples will show: "They care not what injustice is practiced upon a man whose moral character they piously think themselves obliged to condemn."—Let. 39. "The unfeigned piety, the sanctified religion of George the Third have taught him to new-model the civil forces of the State. Corruption glitters in the van," etc. Then, speaking of some of his predecessors, he says: "They were kings or gentlemen, not hypocrites or priests. They were at the head of the Church, but did not know the value of their office. They said their prayers without ceremony, and had too little of priestcraft in their understanding to reconcile the sanctimonious forms of religion with the utter destruction of the morality of the people."—Let. 55.

But Mr. Paine was the inveterate enemy to priestcraft as well as kingcraft. His whole life was spent in waging war against the two. Let us now see what Junius thought of the former. I have shown him to run parallel with Mr. Paine in the latter.

Junius says: "The resentment of a priest is implacable: no sufferings can soften; no penitence can appease."—Let. 53. In speaking of the Rev. Mr. Horne, he says: "No, my lord; it was the solitary, vindictive malice of a monk, brooding over the infirmities of his friends, until he thought they quickened into public life, and feasting with a rancorous rapture upon the sordid catalogue of his distresses. Now let him go back to his cloister. The Church is a proper retreat for him; in his principles he is already a bishop. The mention of this man has moved me from my natural moderation."—Let. 49. Again:

"The priesthood are accused of misinterpreting the scriptures. Mr. Horne has improved on his profession. He alters the text, and creates a refutable doctrine of his own."—Let. 53.

The above passages can not be mistaken for Mr. Paine's spirit, style, and language. These tell us they are his with much more truth than a name attached to any writing tells us its author.

Now the reader will recall the parallel I gave in regard to never dishonoring religion by saying any thing against particular forms or denominations. With the exception of the Catholic Church, this is the only instance which has fallen under my eye; and it seems they had such a disliking to Methodism, a sarcasm must be let loose upon it. Trifling as this instance may seem, there is great force in its being solitary, and apparently contradictory to what they both before affirmed in general. Such an instance has, in fact, more weight than a score of parallels on common characteristics, for it shows a peculiar and strong bias in a particular direction.

Of the term Christian there is no positive ground for a parallel, because it is one of no definite meaning. We call ourselves, as a nation, Christians; yet we are divided into a hundred forms of religion, and many of them in the articles of faith contradictory and antagonistic. Yet, in the fundamental principles of morality, we are, in common with all civilized races, agreed. The Christian religion happens to belong to the highest civilization, and we frequently use the term as synonymous with the morality of this civilization. But when we come to define strictly according to the theological import of the word, there are many of us who are not Christians. In the former sense, Mr. Paine and Junius were Christians; in the latter sense, they were not. And now for the proof. Junius says, in Letter 15, to the Duke of Grafton: "It is not, indeed, the least of the thousand contradictions which attend you, that a man marked to the world by the grossest violation of ceremony and decorum, should be the first servant of a court in which prayers are morality, and kneeling is religion." For this, and his attacks on the priesthood, and his frequently putting piety in antithesis to morality, he was at last accused of being an impious and irreligious man. He now puts Philo Junius forward to explain his religious views, who says, in Letter 54: "These candid critics never remember any thing he says in honor of our holy religion, though it is true that one of his leading arguments is made to rest 'upon the internal evidence which the purest of all religions carries with it.' I quote his words, and conclude from them that he is a true and hearty Christian—in substance, not in ceremony—though possibly he may not agree with my reverend lords the bishops, or with the head of the Church, 'that prayers are morality, or that kneeling is religion.'"

That is, Junius was a Christian who, upon moral principles, did not say his prayers, and who thought that forms were no part of religion. In other words, if the highest morality was Christianity, he claimed to be a Christian, and would not stoop "to reconcile the sanctimonious forms of religion with the utter destruction of morality."

This, too, was Mr. Paine's Christianity. In a national and moral sense he uses the term with approbation, but when in a theological sense he disowns it. He says, in Crisis, ii: "This ingratitude may suit a tory, or the unchristian peevishness of a fallen Quaker, but none else." In Crisis, i, he says: "I wish, with all the devotion of a Christian, that the names of whig and tory may never more be mentioned." To the Quakers he says: "Call not coldness of soul religion, nor put the bigot in the place of the Christian." In Common Sense he says: "For myself, I fully and conscientiously believe that it is the will of the Almighty that there should be a diversity of religious opinions among us. It affords a larger field for our Christian kindness." And again: "This new world hath been the asylum for the persecuted lovers of civil and religious liberty from every part of Europe.... In this extensive quarter of the globe, we forget the narrow limits of three hundred and sixty miles (the extent of England), and carry our friendship on a larger scale; we claim brotherhood with every European Christian, and triumph in the generosity of the sentiment."

The above are a few of the many passages in which he indorses Christianity. But Christian here means only its moral phase or principles, and these principles exalted by the feeling of universal brotherhood. But in a theological sense he uses the term very differently, and by keeping this fact in view, he is readily understood, and there is only the contradiction which the use of the word by common consent carries with it. In the Age of Reason, Conclusion, he says: "Of all the systems of religion that ever were invented there is none more derogatory to the Almighty, more unedifying to man, more repugnant to reason, and more contradictory in itself, than this thing called Christianity."

They both had the same views of Jesus. Mr. Paine says in the Age of Reason, part i: "Nothing that is here said can apply, even with the most distant disrespect, to the real character of Jesus Christ. He was a virtuous and amiable man. The morality that he preached and practiced was of the most benevolent kind; and though similar systems of morality had been preached by Confucius and by some of the Greek philosophers many years before, and by the Quakers since, and by many good men in all ages, it has not been exceeded by any.... He preached most excellent morality, and the equality of man; but he preached also against the corruptions and avarice of the Jewish priests, and this brought upon him the hatred and vengeance of the whole order of the priesthood." And between the Romans and the Jews "this virtuous reformer and revolutionist lost his life."

Junius, near the close of his last letter but one, boldly affirms Jesus a man. He says: "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 [the king], who, in the ceremonies of our faith, might give lessons to the great enemy of it [the devil] upon different principles, keeps much the same company."

Neither Mr. Paine nor Junius were superstitious. And first of Paine. In Crisis, i, he says: "I have as little superstition in me as any man living, but my secret opinion has ever been, and still is, that God Almighty will not give up, to military destruction, a people," etc.

Junius says, in Letter 36, note: "Every coward pretends to be planet-struck." And in Letter 49, satirizing Lord Bute, he says: "When that noxious planet approaches England, he never fails to bring plague and pestilence along with him." In Letter 67 he says: "Superstition is certainly not the characteristic of this age; yet some men are bigoted in politics who are infidels in religion. I do not despair of making them ashamed of their credulity."

Above, Junius also casts an aspersion upon the term infidel. Mr. Paine was very tender upon this point, and could not bear to be taunted with infidelity. He says: "Infidelity is believing falsely. If what Christians believe is not true, it is the Christians that are the infidels."—Remarks on R. Hall's sermon. In the Examination of the Prophecies, he concludes with this sentence, emphasized as follows: "He that believes in the story of Christ, is an infidel to God." He also defines infidelity as being unfaithful to one's own convictions. In the Age of Reason, part i, he says: "Infidelity consists in professing to believe what he does not believe." He also uses the word as synonymous with atheist, in his Discourse to the Theophilanthropists, as will be seen by reference to page 163 of this book.

I have heretofore given the views of Junius on Prayer. See page 172. It now remains to give Mr. Paine's views. In his Letter to Samuel Adams he says: "A man does not serve God when he prays, for it is himself he is trying to serve; and as to hiring or paying men to pray, as if the Deity needed instruction, it is, in my opinion, an abomination."

They both believe in the divine justice of retribution and future punishment. Junius says: "The divine justice of retribution seems now to have begun its progress. Deliberate treachery entails punishment upon the traitor. There is no possibility of escaping it."—Let. 66. "A death-bed repentance seldom reaches to restitution."—Dedication.

Mr. Paine says, in Crisis, ii, to Lord Howe: "How many you have thus privately sacrificed we know not, and the account can only be settled in another world." And in Crisis, v, to the same man, he says: "You may, perhaps, be unwilling to be serious, but this destruction of the goods of Providence, this havoc of the human race, and this sowing the world with mischief, must be accounted for to him who made and governs it."

But I will give a positive affirmation of the fact. In the Age of Reason, near the close of the Second Part, he says: "The existence of an Almighty power is sufficiently demonstrated to us.... We must know, also, that the power that called us into being can, if he pleases, and when he pleases, call us to account for the manner in which we have lived here; and therefore, without seeking any other motive for the belief, it is rational to believe that he will, for we know beforehand that he can.... The probability that we may be called to account hereafter, will, to a reflecting mind, have the influence of belief; for it is not our belief or unbelief that can make or unmake the fact. As this is the state we are in, and which it is proper we should be in, as free agents, it is the fool only, and not the philosopher or even the prudent man, that would live as if there were no God."

Religiously, he can quite properly be classed with Theodore Parker. He stands close at his side, and, having preceded him, a shoulder higher. Yet, in this regard, Mr. Parker treats him with contempt.

The reader will be pleased to read the following letters; the one from Horace Seaver to Mr. Parker, and the reply:

Rev. and Dear Sir:—As chairman of the committee of arrangement for the celebration of Thomas Paine's birth-day in this city, on the 30th instant, I am instructed to perform the highly pleasing duty of soliciting the honor of your company at the dinner; and to say to you in addition, that it would give the committee great pleasure, as well as many others of your personal friends, if your health and time will allow you to comply with this invitation.

Dear Sir:—Your favor of the 11th instant came in my absence from home, and I now hasten to reply to the invitation you offer me. With the views I entertain of Mr. Paine's character in his later years, I could not, consistently with my own sense of duty, join with you in celebrating his birth-day. I feel grateful, truly so, for the services rendered by his political writings, and his practical efforts in the cause of freedom; though with what I understand to be the spirit of his writings on theology and religion, I have not the smallest sympathy.

This is one arch-heretic trampling on his brother in the holy name of religion. Yet the great work which Thomas Paine performed before Mr. Parker was conceived in the womb of Time, made a Theodore Parker possible. Parker stood on the shoulders of Thomas Paine, and he uttered scarcely a thought on religion and theology which Mr. Paine had not written before him. Mr. Parker translated DeWette, but Mr. Paine's second part of the Age of Reason, as an original investigation and critical examination of the Bible, will be read when Parker's translation of DeWette is forgotten. The latter is a scholar's effort, dry, voluminous, costly, and soon to be laid away forever; the former, a friend's offering to mankind, brought within the reach of their understanding and their means. As an argument it has never been equaled; as a theological work it is fair and candid; as a religious work it breathes the spirit of forbearance, kindness, morality, and brotherly love. I have searched in vain to find the authority for Mr. Parker's religious hatred to Thomas Paine. They taught the same morality and religion, the same theology, the same retributive justice, and denounced boldly the same errors in politics and religion; and differed only in this that Mr. Parker said his prayers in public, and Mr. Paine in private. The hatred to Mr. Paine is perhaps inherited, and we stand in awe of him as of the devil, without a reason and without knowing why. The Egyptian children still startle at the name of "Bonaparte;" the American children at the name of Thomas Paine; and Mr. Parker never outgrew this superstition of his youth. But the historian may safely record: Without Thomas Paine, there would have been no Theodore Parker.

The reader can not fail to see the substantial elements of the Quaker character in Junius, if we let Mr. Paine define it. In the Age of Reason, second part, he says: "The only sect that has not persecuted are the Quakers, and the only reason that can be given for it is, that they are rather Deists than Christians. They do not believe much about Jesus Christ, and they call the Scriptures a dead letter."

The Quakers have no priesthood. With them the power to teach is the immediate gift of God, and they speak as they are moved by the Spirit, and what they say is by the inspiration of the inner light. They have neither pulpit nor church, and in their meeting there is neither ceremony nor song, nor the dull routine of stated prayers. They oppose war, slavery, intemperance, litigation, extravagance, profanity, and priestcraft. Dancing and dressing in the fashion of the day they forbid. Their religion consists in morality; not in ceremony and show. They hate a bishop as they hate a tyrant, and they hold an honest man the noblest work of God. What could be more like Junius than this? But if this does not satisfy the reader the evidence of Junius himself would have little weight. But he positively affirms the principles of the Quakers as the true religion, and this ought to satisfy the most doubtful. At the close of Letter 41, he says: "An honest man, like the true religion, appeals to the understanding, or modestly confides in the internal evidences of his conscience. The impostor employs force instead of argument, imposes silence when he can not convince, and propagates his character by the sword." This proves Junius to be a Quaker, in principle. No one can mistake the expression: "The internal evidences of the conscience," which often comes so forcibly from Junius. And says Paine also: "As for morality, the knowledge of it exists in every man's conscience." Were an artist called upon to produce a picture of Junius' moral, political, and religious character, he could give no shade or stroke which he could not find full and distinct in the living character of Mr. Paine.

Although Thomas Paine was not a professed Quaker, yet the rigid Quaker principles of moral conduct spoke out in every action; and while he did not spare their errors, he spoke highly of them as a sect. He chastised them with an unsparing hand, but it was in friendship, not in revenge. He loved their austere worship, he sought their society, he walked in their ways, and often paid them a tribute of praise. In short, by birth he was a Quaker, but by profession not. He was himself, an original man thrown out upon earth, born for a purpose, which he fulfilled.

But the moral character of Junius was the same; he proves it so in a hundred different ways; in his pride of character, in his love of justice, in his sympathies for the people, in his declaration of human rights, in the austerity of his morals, in his faith in the interior evidence of the conscience, in his hatred to bad men and bad measures, in his moral courage to attack the strongholds of political corruption. No one but a man having a double portion of Quaker principles and Quaker spirit could talk as did Junius to the king, unmasking him before the public, and exposing his weakness, wickedness, folly, and stupidity. And herein nature comes powerfully in to my aid in my argument. In fact, it is my only object to trace the lines of argument which nature has drawn, and never to descend to art.

Says Mr. Paine: "It sometimes happens, as well in writing as in conversation, that a person lets slip an expression that serves to unravel what he intends to conceal." I will take him at his word and quote two short passages of his own, giving a few strokes of his personal history: "If I have anywhere expressed myself over-warmly, 'tis from a fixed, immovable hatred I have, and ever had, to cruel men and cruel measures. I have likewise an aversion to monarchy, as being too debasing to the dignity of man, but I never troubled others with my notions till very lately, nor ever published a syllable in England in my life. What I write is pure nature, and my pen and my soul have ever gone together. My writings I have always given away, reserving only the expense of printing and paper, and sometimes not even that. I never courted either fame or interest, and my manner of life, to those who know it, will justify what I say. My study is to be useful."

The above was thrown into the body of Crisis, ii, and addressed to Lord Howe. Let us examine its separate counts:

I. "Hatred to cruel men and cruel measures." See on this head the hatred of Junius to the tyrant in any form, to the "hoary lecher," Lord Irnham, to the "monsters" of the house of Bedford, and the "worst man in the kingdom," Lord Mansfield.

II. "An aversion to monarchy, as being too debasing to the dignity of man." This is the key-note to Junius.

III. "Never troubled others with my notions till very lately." This was dated January 13, 1777, just one year after Common Sense, and just five years after the last Letter of Junius. Very lately is an indefinite expression, and is meant to pave the way for the next, which was designed to mislead the unwary, and here we see unmistakable evidence of Junius.

IV. "I never published a syllable in England in my life." When Woodfall was prosecuted for publishing Junius' Letter to the king, the jury found him "guilty of publishing only." Then Junius, whoever he was, never published a syllable of the Letters. But Mr. Paine wrote a pamphlet, "The Case of the Excise Officers," while in England, and it was published by a Mr. Lee. To the unthinking, the sentence: "I never published a syllable in England in my life," would be proof at first that he never wrote for the press, but a moment's thought will show it to be an innocent subterfuge. But why this subterfuge, if Mr. Paine was not Junius, and he had not yet a work to perform in England? If not Junius, what is the meaning of it? Why did he say it? The reader must answer.

V. "My writings I have always given away." Junius gave to Mr. Woodfall the whole of his Letters. See his Preface.

VI. "I never courted either fame or interest." Says Junius: "To write for profit, without taxing the press; to write for fame and be unknown; to support the intrigues of faction, and be disowned by every party in the kingdom, are contradictions," etc. That is, he was charged with writing for fame and interest, and he thus contradicts it.

VII. "What I write is pure nature." Thus, Junius says: "The works of a master require no index, his features and coloring are taken from nature;" and a hundred other examples could be given.

VIII. "My study is to be useful." Thus also Junius: "Is there no merit in dedicating my life to the information of my fellow-subjects? He is not paid for his labor, and certainly has a right to choose his employment."

It is thus I could take every statement of Thomas Paine, either of previous life, private purpose, or public principle, and find its counterpart in Junius. This could not be done were not the two characters the same person. Take again, for example, the statement in Crisis, xv. Speaking of the part he took in the revolution, he says:

I. "So far as my endeavors could go, they have all been directed to conciliate the affections, unite the interests, and draw and keep the mind of the country together; (II) and the better to assist in this foundation work of the revolution, I have avoided all places of profit or office, either in the State I live in or in the United States, kept myself at a distance from all parties and party connections, and even disregarded all private and inferior concerns; and when we take into view the great work which we have gone through, and feel, as we ought to feel, the first importance of it, we shall then see that the little wranglings and indecent contentions of personal parley are as dishonorable to our characters as they are injurious to our purpose. (III) It was the cause of America that made me an author. The force with which it struck my mind, and the dangerous condition the country appeared to me in, by courting an impossible and unnatural reconciliation with those who were determined to reduce her, instead of striking out into the only line that could cement and save her—a Declaration of Independence—made it impossible for me, feeling as I did, to be silent: (IV) and if in the course of more than seven years I have rendered her any service, I have likewise added something to the reputation of literature, by freely and disinterestedly employing it in the great cause of mankind, and showing that there may be genius without prostitution."

Compare now the above with Junius, as follows: I. "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." II. "To write for profit without taxing the press, to write for fame and to be unknown, to support the intrigues of factions and to be disowned as a dangerous anxiliary by every party in the kingdom are contradictions which the minister must reconcile before I forfeit my credit with the public." III. "It was the cause of America that made me an author," says Paine. This is true of Junius; for the troubles which called him forth are well known to be those of America. But he would never have been known, perhaps, had he not written Common Sense, which was published anonymously, and was at first attributed to Benjamin Franklin. IV. "The reputation of these papers is an honorable pledge for my attachment to the people.... These letters, my lord, are read in other countries and in other languages. For my own part, I claim no merit from endeavoring to do a service to my fellow-subjects. I have done it to the best of my understanding, and without looking for the approbation of other men, my conscience is satisfied."

REVIEW.

1. Twelve facts in the life of Mr. Paine shown to be the same as those in Junius.

41. They considered the termination of the Seven Years' War a distinguished period, and dated the misfortunes and establishment of tyranny in England from that period.

69. Both have the same method of argumentation, and hereunder many parallels are given.

73. They use the figure in the same manner, and usually one at the close of an article.

84. Common Sense parallels with Junius, in many ways, and hereunder more than forty examples, which to repeat would be to rewrite them.

86. They both dedicated their life to the same object: to remove some wrong, to do mankind some good.

87. They both attacked the King of England and his ministry in the same spirit and language.

89. They were both political reformers, following the same principle without pay and above party.

In the above argument I have given nearly three hundred parallel facts and characteristics, many of them of such a nature that it would be at variance with nature itself to suppose them to belong to different men. But I have also searched for a solitary fact which would in the least render Mr. Paine and Junius incompatible, and have found it not. This is a task I hope some reader, who has some means and ample time, will devote a year or two to investigate. My case is much stronger than I hoped even to make it. I have by no means given all the facts and parallels, but where one would answer, I put it in the place of several on the same subject. I have labored to condense—not to expand; I have, therefore, commented but little, and reasoned scarcely any. There is no reasoning which is superior to the simple declaration of facts. It should be the office of the writer to present facts to A reasoning world. The literary world has had enough of the whirlwind of words; it wants a deluge of facts. Then each mind will take care of itself, if worth preserving. To this end I subjoin Lord Macaulay's five reasons why Sir Philip Francis was Junius:

"Was he the author of the Letters of Junius? Our own firm belief is that he was. The external evidence is, we think, such as would support a verdict in a civil—nay, in a criminal proceeding. The handwriting of Junius is the very peculiar handwriting of Francis, slightly disguised. As to the position, pursuits, and connections of Junius, the following are the most important facts, which can be considered as clearly proved: First, that he was acquainted with the technical forms of the Secretary of State's office; secondly, that he was intimately acquainted with the business of the War Office; thirdly, that he, during the year 1770, attended debates in the House of Lords, and took notes of speeches—particularly of the speeches of Lord Chatham; fourthly, that he bitterly resented the appointment of Mr. Chamier to the place of Deputy Secretary at War; fifthly, that he was bound by some strong tie to the first Lord Holland.... Now here are five marks, all of which ought to be found in Junius. They are all five found in Francis. We do not believe that more than two of them can be found in any other person whatever. If this argument does not settle the question, there is an end of all reasoning on circumstantial evidence." [In answer to this, see appendix.]

If that kind and amount of evidence would hang a man in the time of Macaulay, the times have so changed that it takes far stronger evidence to hang men now than then. That kind of evidence is absolutely worthless for two reasons: first, the facts alleged in the separate counts are neither of them necessary to the production of Junius; and, secondly, they would prove nothing if they were, for they might be common to a hundred men, and that they were not would be matter of fact to prove. Even Macaulay makes this rest on his own belief. "We do not believe," he says, "that more than two of them can be found in any other person whatever." But the fact is, they are absolutely "imaginary," and not at all necessary.

"The internal evidence," he says, "seems to point in the same way." First, he acknowledges that Francis, as a writer, is inferior to Junius, but not "decidedly," and then he goes on to say: "One of the strongest reasons for believing that Francis was Junius, is the moral resemblance between the two men." Macaulay now sets up a character for Junius, the most of which is not to be found in Junius, and says it is like Francis. It is thus he imposes on the credulity of the ignorant. But I give his words, that the reader may investigate for himself:

"It is not difficult, from the letters which, under various signatures, are known to have been written by Junius, and from his dealings with Woodfall and others, to form a tolerable correct notion of his character." I call the attention of the reader to the above sentence, and have emphasized the word "notion," and the phrase "various signatures." Of the former, I would remark that a notion of one's character falls far short of a judgment, and in a criticism is not only trifling, but contemptible. In regard to "various signatures," I will let Junius himself answer: "The encouragement given to a multitude of spurious, mangled publications of the 'Letters of Junius,' persuades me that a complete edition, corrected and improved by the author, will be favorably received."—Preface. In this volume his signature is Junius, and occasionally, when he wishes to explain the meaning, or defend the principle, he puts forward Philo Junius, but never without this cause. I now proceed to give the character which Macaulay has picked up—I know not where:

"He was clearly a man not destitute of real patriotism and magnanimity—a man whose vices were not of a sordid kind. But he must also have been a man in the highest degree arrogant and insolent—a man prone to malevolence, and prone to the error of mistaking his malevolence for public virtue. 'Doest thou well to be angry?' was the question asked in olden time of the Hebrew prophet, and he answered: 'I do well.' This was evidently the temper of Junius, and to this cause we attribute the savage cruelty which disgraces several of his Letters. No man is so merciless as he who, under a strong self-delusion, confounds his antipathies with his duties. It may be added that Junius, though allied with the democratic party by common enmities, was the very opposite of a democratic politician. While attacking individuals with a ferocity which perpetually violated all the laws of literary warfare, he regarded the most defective parts of the old constitution with a respect amounting to pedantry; pleaded the cause of Old Saurum with fervor, and contemptuously told the capitalists of Manchester and Leeds that, if they wanted votes, they might buy land and become freeholders of Lancashire and Yorkshire. All this, we believe, might stand, with scarcely any change, for a character of Philip Francis."

Thus much Macaulay. Where he got the above character I am unable to tell, unless out of his own imagination. Before I answer it, I will give another perversion of the truth. Dr. Goodrich concludes his article on Junius as follows: "Junius continued his labors, with various ability, but with little success, nearly two year's longer; until, in the month of January, 1772, the king remarked to a friend in confidence: 'Junius is known, and will write no more.' Such proved to be the fact. His last performance was dated January 21, 1772, three years to a day from his first letter to the printer of the Public Advertiser. Within a few months, Sir Philip Francis was appointed to one of the highest stations of profit and trust in India, at a distance of fifteen thousand miles from the seat of English politics!"

The "few months" in the above sentence is just a year and a half after the king "remarked in confidence," etc. But Francis did not go to India for more than two and a half years after. In March, 1772, he resigned his clerkship in the war department, in consequence of a quarrel with Lord Barrington, the new Minister at War. He then left England, and traveled on the continent the remainder of the year; in the June following he was appointed one of the Council of Bengal, with a salary of £10,000, and in the summer of 1774 went to India. That fall Thomas Paine came to America. It is thus the phrase "a few months," artfully put into a sentence in connection with the supposed fact that the king had found out Junius, and had bribed him to stop writing, would mislead the mind, and pervert a reasonable conclusion. This is a trick of the pen, and to which no honorable mind will descend. The fact is, Francis would never have been thought of as Junius, had he not been an intimate friend and schoolmate of Mr. Woodfall's.

But the above argument, summed up by Lord Macaulay, is the strongest on record for any man till now. I was not aware of its weakness till now. I supposed there was a plausible argument at least. To be answered, it needs only to be appended to this. I speak without vanity, for the argument is nature's own, not mine. I will honor it, therefore, with a rebuttal from Junius himself. In Letter 44 he says: "I may quit the service, but it would be absurd to suspect me of desertion. The reputation of these papers is an honorable pledge for my attachment to the people. To sacrifice a respected character, and to renounce the esteem of society, requires more than Mr. Wedderburn's resolution; and though in him it was rather a profession than a desertion of his principles (I speak tenderly of this gentleman, for, when treachery is in question, I think we should make allowances for a Scotchman), yet we have seen him in the House of Commons, overwhelmed with confusion, and almost bereft of his faculties. 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."

There is not, among the dregs or scummings of human nature, a character so false and vile as to write that, and then do as Francis did, or do as the king of England did, if he believed him to be Junius. Nature rebels at such an argument, founded on the facts of the case. It is by a species of subterfuge, or literary legerdemain, exhibiting some facts and hiding others, calling the attention to some trifling thing, and then concealing the truth of the matter, is all that has ever rendered the argument in favor of Francis of any consequence with the public. There is more, for example, in the one word Lord, placed just in front of Macaulay, than in any argument he may give on the subject. In fact, that word imposes on the mind an authority not easily resisted. It obscures the reason, quiets investigation, destroys the desire to search, beguiles thought, puts the mind to sleep, and the reader, like a young bird with eyes closed and mouth open, takes the food from out the old one's mouth, gulps it down, and goes to sleep. It is thus the student and the professor take, on authority, what they have no business to, and do what they never would do, did their own souls not bow basely at the shrine of some literary Baal. It is thus in politics, religion, history, law, philosophy, criticism, belles-lettres, science—whichever way we turn we find the false god and his worshipers. When the student and the professor come to find Mr. Macaulay to be a man of much talent in a certain direction, but by no means a literary god to be worshiped as infallible, they will lose faith in his assertions which come without proof.

It had been my intention to throw a few hints into the Introduction upon external and internal evidence, as it is called, but I concluded to defer it till now, because the remarks and the illustrations would then be thrown together.

In a criticism of this kind, but little confidence can be placed in external evidence, because it all comes within the realm of art or accident, and any scientific truth can not be founded thereon. For example, Macaulay says: "The handwriting of Junius is the very peculiar handwriting of Francis, slightly disguised." Handwriting is an art, just like chopping wood or playing on the piano. And to tell who wrote an article by the "peculiar" handwriting, is about as safe as to hazard an opinion upon who is chopping wood by the "peculiar" swing of the ax. Nor does the same individual always write in the same style or manner. Such proof is good for nothing. And this is the nature of all external evidence, and is the cause of the endless litigation in our courts. A man may go on the stand and swear to a lie. I have known men do it. Then we draw inferences from the associations of men, which the real facts of the case might not warrant. The accidents of place and position, of friendships and age, of times and circumstances, and even of existence, all may or may not, in a world full of men, have bearing on the facts which form the opinion of an outside spectator. For example, Francis, it is said, "did not deny that he was Junius." If he had denied or affirmed he was, it would have proved just the same. It belongs to the most worthless kind of external evidence. A naturalist does not ask his horse whether or not he is a horse. If the horse could speak and say to his master, "I am a jackass," the master would be a fool to believe him. It is thus persons often put on a character in a word or two which does not belong to them, but nature takes care to always reveal the true character, if they say much. Now if we could get within the meaning of the words, get behind them to the spirit of their author, we would be getting at the very soul of evidence. This would be true, and we could found a scientific conclusion upon it, because natural and not artificial. This is internal evidence. At present, this kind of evidence is known only in such a criticism as this, for the soul of the author shines out of his work, I care not who he is. We may, for aught I know, write our history on all we touch. If so, science will some day give the world a knowledge of it. It is then external evidence will have ceased.

Paine.	Junius.
"Every nation that does not govern itself, is governed as a job. England has been the prey of jobs ever since the revolution."—R. of M., part ii, chap, v., note.	To Draper: "It would have been more decent in you to have called this dishonorable transaction by its true name, a job, to accommodate two persons by particular interest and management at the castle."—Let. 7.

Paine.	Junius.
"Those who knew the savage obstinacy of the king, and the jobbing, gambling spirit of the court, predicted the fate of the petition."—Crisis, iii.	To Bedford: "His own honor would have forbidden him from mixing his private pleasures or conversation with jockeys, gamesters, blasphemers, gladiators, and buffoons."—Let. 23. See, also, Let. 14.

Paine.	Junius.
"But when he [man] multiplies his creed with imaginary things, he forces his mind, and pretends to believe what he does not believe. This is, in general, the case with the Methodists—their religion is all creed and no morals."—Let. to Mr. Dean.	"You meanly evaded the question, and, instead of the explicit firmness and decision of a king, gave us nothing but the misery of a ruined grazier, and the whining piety of a Methodist."—Let. 36.