No More Learning

The Baroness [in a low voice to Madame de Loudan] - Did
you ever see a man with such a beautiful hand?
Bellac- No, ladies, no: love is not, as the German philoso-
pher said, purely a passion belonging to the species,-a deceptive


## p. 10970 (#182) ##########################################

10970
ÉDOUARD PAILLERON
illusion by which nature dazzles men, to accomplish its ends.
No, no, a hundred times no! It is impossible that it should be
so if we really have souls.
The Ladies- Yes, yes; bravo!
Bellac Let us leave to the sophists, and to vulgar natures,
those theories that debase the human heart; let us not even dis-
cuss them; let us answer them by silence, by the language of
forgetfulness.
The Ladies-Charming! charming!
Bellac Heaven forbid that I should ever deny the sovereign
influence of beauty upon the tottering wills of men. [Looking
meaningly around him. ] I see before me in such a moment as
this only too much of what would enable me victoriously to
refute any error as to that.
The Ladies - Ah! ah!
-
Bellac-But above this beauty which is perceptible and per-
ishable, my dear ladies, there is another beauty, unconquerable
by time, invisible to the eye, and which the purified spirit alone
can perceive and love with a refined and immaterial love. That
species of love, my dear ladies, is the very principle of love
itself, the bringing together of two souls, and their elevation
above all the mud of this terrestrial world,—their united flight
into the infinite blue of the Ideal.
The Ladies [all together]-Bravo! bravo!
[As Bellac says these last words, the old Duchesse de Réville, who has been
sitting quite forward of the group of his admirers, embroidering
diligently, exclaims in a tone of contempt:]
There you have stuff and nonsense for you with a vengeance!
Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature' by E. Irenæus
Stevenson


## p. 10971 (#183) ##########################################

ÉDOUARD PAILLERON
THE STORY OF GRIGNEUX
From Cabotins >
10971
[The following dialogue occurs between a young sculptor, Pierre Carde-
vent, who has had the misfortune to fall in love apparently outside of his
sphere, and Grigneux, an old painter, whose life has been a failure. Grigneux
takes an affectionate interest in the young man's career. The scene is a
drawing-room, where the two are for a few moments alone by themselves;
the episode occurring in the second act of the play. ]
P
reassure
IERRE [to Grigneux, who looks anxiously at him on entering
the room]-Ah! it is you, is it? Well, you can
yourself, my old Grigneux. It is finished.
It is finished. It is finished.
Grigneux-What? What is finished?
-
-
Pierre-My romance as you called it a while ago.
Grigneux [incredulously] — Finished?
Pierre-Yes, Mademoiselle Valentine tells me that she does
not wish to see me, that I must forget her, because — well, I
don't know just why, but I do know that she doesn't wish to
see me again. Oh, my romance has not been a long one, eh?
[with a forced laugh] and you were so afraid of its having
another winding-up: well, here is its winding-up; I hope you are
satisfied with it. Would you like me to say that I am satisfied
too?
Grigneux [gravely]- How you love her!
Pierre-So then this is what people call loving anybody.
[Sarcastically. ] Well, well, it is a lively business! Think of it!
During ten days I have been expecting that girl at the studio-
to go on with her portrait-as if I were waiting for the good
God himself! This very evening I have left my mother alone
to come to this house, and here I am: obliged to make myself
agreeable to a lot of people who bore me to death, in a drawing-
room, in fashionable society! I, Cardevent the sculptor! Look
at me, in a coat that worries me, a cravat that strangles me,
with pomade on my hair! Yes, with pomade! I put it on my
hair, on my honor! [laughing] and all that so that I could hear
this young lady tell me that I must forget her, and that "every-
thing is finished"! Really, it is all very stupid! I have never
been so stupid about anything in all my life. But then it's done
So much the better. I have had enough, thank you!
Grigneux-O my poor Pierre, you are hard hit.
now.


## p. 10972 (#184) ##########################################

10972
ÉDOUARD PAILLERON
Pierre-Very well then, I must get over it. It is simply a
matter of resolution.
Grigneux - Yes; but you must resolve to be resolved.
Pierre-Don't be afraid; you shall see.
Grigneux-It is because I have "seen" that I am afraid.
Pierre-Oh, come now! There is no such thing as a love
which one cannot kill with one stroke of his own will.
Grigneux-Do you think so? Listen to me. Pierre, I knew,
a long time ago, an artist far less gifted than you, but having
just as you have a real passion for his art, and a strong faith in
his own youth: he was a man who would have been somebody
for all I know; only a woman came into his life, a woman who
shattered all these promises, and who made of that man's life the
most lamentable thing in the world.
Pierre- And how did that happen?
Grigneux —Oh, always the same story! He had as a neigh-
bor a young girl, a pianist, who got along as well as she could
in life, earning her bread by giving lessons. She was intelligent,
she was proud, she was a little impulsive. She believed that
this poor fellow possessed genius. You see that a charm for him
hung about her. And besides all this, she was as pretty-as
pretty well, as this Valentine here whom you love; and what is
more, she had the same name.
[Grigneux pauses as if becoming
lost in remembrances. ]
-
―
Pierre-Well, what happened?
Grigneux-What happened? He loved her and he married
her! It had to be so; it was written in the book of fate. To
fall in love for an artist that is a danger to begin with; but
for an artist to marry, to bring a woman into the secret of your
work, that is to say, all your efforts, doubts, pangs of artistic
creation,—a woman who has begun by believing in you as in
God, and who imagines that it is enough for you to make a
gesture as God might, in order to create something,-oh, that is
an irreparable mistake! I tell you, Pierre, women do not under-
stand anything except success. Now this poor creator of whom
I am speaking, tried in vain to be a creator all the week long,
without even taking time to rest himself on the seventh day; but
he got nothing out of his chaos. Success never came; but on the
contrary, failures succeeded failures. Little by little, everybody
ceased to expect anything from him, to hope anything for him,—
except the man himself, whose hope was of the kind that becomes
-
――――


## p. 10973 (#185) ##########################################

ÉDOUARD PAILLERON
10973
grotesque by its persistence. People laughed at him all around.
him. From the time that the laughing began he was judged and
condemned. The young woman whom he had loved and married,
she joined the laughers. I leave out the details. It is enough to
say that when there was only one sort of treason that could
be committed against him, the thing which was sure to happen.
happened: one evening his wife fled from the house of this
creature whom fate had vanquished,— the ridicule of whom was
in everybody's mouth. She fled, to go heaven knows whither, in
company with nobody knew whom.
Pierre
- And he? What did he do then?
―――
Grigneux-Well, during a whole week, out of his senses with
grief and rage, he hunted all around the town after her; but of
course he could find out nothing. Then he fled in his turn; and
he went down and shut himself up in Italy in a little village
near Naples. There it was that eight months later the news of
his wife's death met him while he was reading one day a French
newspaper. But for all that he stayed down there, an exile, for
twenty years; even to the time when, an old man, worn out,
unrecognizable, he came back to Paris, the place where every
one can lose himself and forget himself: and there he ended up
by living under a false name; concealed, miserable, and alone.
Pierre-So! The worse for him then. A man who cannot
recover himself under an insult is a coward.
Grigneux - Yes: well then, that man of whom I have been
telling you, he was-myself!
Pierre [greatly shocked] - You, Grigneux! You!
Grigneux [becoming more and more carried away from himself]
Yes, I am more of a coward than you would believe for
I love her still; and, afraid lest I love her less, I have done
no searching into her story since I came back here. I wish to
know nothing more than I know of her guilty past. Yes, I have
been determined that so far as I am concerned she shall have no
existence from the day when I ceased to see her. I have been
resolved that she shall dwell in my mind only as she was before
her sin that death shall bury her forever, pure in its pardoning
mystery. Oh, I am a coward in more than that, if you care to
know it: for I love her for always; yes, for always! [He speaks
in a constantly increasing excitement. ] And since I have lost her
in reality, I bring her back to me in my dreams; and it is for
that that I take that poison which gives a man dreams. And
-


## p. 10974 (#186) ##########################################

ÉDOUARD PAILLERON
10974
with them, oh then she comes back - I can hear her
to me I answer her- she draws near to me I can feel her
-
―
-
- she speaks
hand upon my shoulders again-she is there-I see her! [He
breaks off and remains in a sort of ecstatic silence. ]
Pierre [terrified] — Grigneux! Grigneux!
Grigneux [as if awakening]-And then, little by little, her
voice dies away, the vision effaces itself, and so she leaves me
alone, and so miserable that I must try to go through it all
again. Oh, I know perfectly well that my reason is going, that
my body is wearing out. So much the better! Only my body
separates me from her where she is now. So let it perish as
soon as it can, and my soul will take its wings to join hers!
Pierre [much affected]-My friend, my poor friend!
Grigneux [passing his hand over his forehead and returning to
himself]- Pierre, see what love makes of an old man like me;
what it can do to a young man like you. Oh, you see now why
it is that I tell you, "Fly from it. " My dear boy, I have nobody
in the world to love except you. I have nothing to expect in
life except what will come through you in your future. And
your future is so bright. Oh, I beg of you, I beseech you, do
not be a traitor to me, to yourself; do not at least rob me of
what should be your glory!
Translated for 'A Library of the World's Best Literature' by E. Irenæus
Stevenson


## p. 10975 (#187) ##########################################

10975
THOMAS PAINE
(1737-1809)
HETHER, as he himself believed, his services to the cause of
American independence deserved to be mentioned with
those of Washington and Jefferson, or not, the pamphlets
of Thomas Paine were doubtless in their time "half-battles. " Clear,
logical, homely, by turns warning, appealing, or commanding, now
sharply satirical, now humorous, now pathetic, always desperately in
earnest, always written in admirably simple English, they constituted
their author, in the judgment of many, the foremost pamphleteer of
the eighteenth century. In the phrase of
Matthew Arnold, he saw things steadily and
saw them whole, whenever he was able to
see them at all,- which, with his myopic
vision, was by no means always. Before his
day, moreover, pamphlets and open letters
had been for the classes. Atticus, Brutus,
Civitas, Cato, Phil-anglus, when they ap-
peared in print, wore mask and buskins,
and addressed themselves to gentlemen who
knew their classics, and who expected
academic speech. Paine addressed the
masses as he would have talked to them in
the street. His turn for phrases was nota-
ble. "Our trade will always be a protec-
tion. " "Neutrality is a safer convoy than a man-of-war. " "It is the
true interest of America to steer clear of European contentions,
which she can never do while by her dependence on Britain she is
made the make-weight in the scale of European politics. " "Nothing
can settle our affairs so expeditiously as an open and determined
declaration of independence. " "This proceeding may at first appear
strange and difficult. A long habit of not thinking a thing wrong
gives it a superficial appearance of being right. " All these sentences,
and many even better, he wrote six months before the 4th of July,
1776, while many genuine patriots still trembled at the thought of
separation from the mother country.
The imported citizen who showed such perspicacity and courage
was at this time thirty-nine years of age, and had been for two years

THOMAS PAINE


## p. 10976 (#188) ##########################################

10976
THOMAS PAINE
assistant editor of the Pennsylvania Magazine, at a salary of £50
a year.
Born in Norfolkshire, the son of an English staymaker, a
Quaker, and poor, he had been by turns a staymaker, a sailor, an
exciseman, a tobacconist, and an usher in a school at £25 a year,
when he determined to emigrate and to establish a girls' school in
Philadelphia. On a fortunate day in the summer of 1774, at the
London house of his friend David Williams, - the radical who, with
himself, was presently to receive the honor of French citizenship,—
the humble usher met the "ingenious Dr. Franklin," who took a
great liking to him, advised him as to his future career, and wrote
him cordial letters of introduction to friends in Philadelphia. That
he was a very likable man, both at this time and later in life, is
shown, among other evidence, by a familiar letter to Goldsmith,
desiring "the honor of his company at the tavern for an hour or
two, to partake of a bottle of wine"; by the prediction of the brill-
iant Horne Tooke that whoever should be at a certain dinner party,
Paine would be sure to say the best things said; and by the friend-
ships which he made so easily. In middle age, at least, he was
fastidious in his dress, inclined to elegance in his manners, and at-
tractive in looks.
(
In 1775, a paper of his against slavery brought him the kindly
regard of many distinguished Americans, and the friendship of Frank-
lin was an invaluable guarantee. In January 1776 appeared anony-
mously Paine's first pamphlet, Common Sense. ' It was variously
ascribed to Franklin and the two Adamses; and when the irascible
John went to France, he found himself, to his chagrin, introduced as
"the famous Adams, author of Common Sense. >>
"The success it
met with," wrote the author, "was beyond anything since the inven-
tion of printing. I gave the copyright up to every State in the
Union, and the demand ran to not less than a hundred thousand
copies. " In his opinion the Declaration of Independence followed
«< as soon as 'Common Sense' could spread through such an extensive
country. " Nearly a year later came the first number of The Crisis,
beginning "These are the times that try men's souls," a number
which, read as a gospel in America, was condemned to be burned by
the hangman in England.
Later issues followed, some a few para-
graphs in length, some many pages, printed wherever there was a
printing-press, often on brown paper in the scarcity of white, and
distributed to every enlisted man and every village politician.
In 1780 the country was virtually bankrupt, the army starving and
mutinous, and Congress without money or credit. Paine, then clerk
of the Assembly of Pennsylvania, wrote a fiery letter inclosing his
whole salary, five hundred dollars, and urging the establishment of
a volunteer relief fund. Three hundred thousand pounds (inflated
―――


## p. 10977 (#189) ##########################################

THOMAS PAINE
10977
Pennsylvania currency) was raised, and a relief bank founded, which
presently, at the instance of Robert Morris, became the "Bank of
North America. " The next year, Paine, as private secretary, accom-
panied Colonel Laurens to France to negotiate a loan with that King
Louis, one of whose judges the ex-staymaker was presently to be-
come! In 1783 Morris besought its author to resume the Crisis, and
rouse reluctant patriotism to pay its debts and obey the orders of
Congress. The second paper of the new series contained the famous
passage: "We sometimes experience sensations to which language is
not equal. The conception is too bulky to be born alive, and in the
torture of thinking we stand dumb. Our feelings, imprisoned by
their magnitude, find no way out; and in the struggle for expression
every finger tries to be a tongue. " The last Crisis, published after
the treaty of peace, is a noble and eloquent setting forth of the
greatness of the American opportunity.
For all this laborious and constant toil, Paine, holding the Quaker
theory that the preacher must take no pay, received not a single
penny. "I could never reconcile it to my principles," he wrote, "to
make any money by my politics or my religion. " "In a great affair,
where the happiness of man is at stake, I love to work for nothing;
and so fully am I under the influence of this principle that I should
lose the spirit, the pleasure, and the pride of it, were I conscious that
I looked for reward. " But after the war, Pennsylvania set apart
£500 (currency) for his actual expenses; New Jersey gave him a
small place at Bordentown; New York settled upon him a confiscated
Tory farm at New Rochelle; and finally Congress voted him $3,000,
most of which he had already spent in the service of the nation.
From 1783 to 1787 Paine spent most of his time in Philadelphia,
engaged in scientific pursuits, the avocation of the cultivated gentle-
man of his time. One of his experiments was literally to set the
river on fire for the entertainment of General Washington, whose
guest he was for some time at Rocky Creek, near Philadelphia.
Among other contrivances he invented an iron bridge of a single
arch, the idea being suggested to him by the mechanism of a spider's
web.
To lay his model before the French Academy of Sciences, he
sailed for Havre in 1787; and then began the stormy fifteen years of
his life in England and France. Science he loved, but politics was
his very life. He was well received in Paris; but Paris was already
on the road to revolution. It had no time for the study of bridges,
and he had no heart for anything but affairs. When the Bastille was
taken, Lafayette sent the key to his "master," Washington, through
the hands of Paine, who wrote: "That the principles of America
opened the Bastille is not to be doubted, and therefore the key comes
XIX-687


## p. 10978 (#190) ##########################################

10978
THOMAS PAINE
to the right place. " He became once more a pamphleteer, and pres-
ently a member of the Assembly that condemned the King to death;
a condemnation which he opposed with magnificent courage from
the tribune itself, in the face of a furiously hostile audience, and
against which he voted in a hopeless minority. Before long he him-
self became a 'suspect'; and a prisoner for eleven months, to be
released at last, broken in health, energy, and fortunes. Before these
evil days, however,- from 1791 to 1793,- he had been busy in Eng-
land rousing radical sentiment, working at first heartily with Burke,
and after the publication of that statesman's 'Reflections,' furiously
against him. "Mr. Burke's mind," he wrote, "is above the homely
sorrows of the vulgar. He can feel only for a king or for a queen.
The countless victims of tyranny have no place in his sympathies.
He is not afflicted with the reality of distress touching on his heart,
but by the showy resemblance of it. He pities the plumage, but
forgets the dying bird. " Paine's crowning offense at that time was
the publication of The Rights of Man'; for England stood in terror
of the Revolution. The Church, the professions, trade, good society,
alike condemned all who defended or even explained it; and as a
dangerous agitator, but especially as a treasonable writer, Paine was
presently outlawed by the government.
From the time of his release from prison in '94 to that of his
return to the United States, on the invitation of Jefferson, in 1802,
little is known of Paine's life. He was very poor, his associates seem
to have been unworthy of him, he was growing old, his health was
wretched, and the habit of brooding over what he thought the in-
justice and ingratitude of the American people led him at times to
drink more than was good for him. He still wrote,- papers on finance,
'The Rights of Man,' 'Agrarian Justice,' the last part of the 'Age of
Reason' (the first book of which he had completed but not revised at
the time of his arrest by the Committee of Public Safety: a work
which gave him the reputation of a foe to Christianity), but the
old fire was burned out. His last seven years in America were most
unhappy. Old friends fell away. The acerbity of his temper and
the sensitiveness of his vanity kept new ones aloof.
The bitterness
of politics colored judgment, and he was accused of offenses he had
never committed and of conduct impossible to him. An old man at
seventy-two, he died broken with many griefs, to be remembered by
a later age as "the great Commoner of Mankind. "
-


## p. 10979 (#191) ##########################################

THOMAS PAINE
10979
FROM THE CRISIS »
Reprinted from Moncure D. Conway's Edition of The Writings of Thomas
Paine. Copyright 1894, by G. P. Putnam's Sons
T"
HESE are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier
and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the
service of their country; but he that stands it now, deserves
the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is
not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that
the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What
we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is dearness only
that gives everything its value. Heaven knows how to put a
proper price upon its goods; and it would be strange indeed if
so celestial an article as FREEDOM should not be highly rated.
Britain, with an army to enforce her tyranny, has declared that
she has a right (not only to TAX) but "to BIND us in ALL CASES
WHATSOEVER"; and if being bound in that manner is not slavery,
then is there not such a thing as slavery upon earth. Even the
expression is impious; for so unlimited a power can belong only
to God.
Whether the independence of the continent was declared too
soon, or delayed too long, I will not now enter into as an argu-
ment; my own simple opinion is, that had it been eight months
earlier it would have been much better. We did not make a
proper use of last winter; neither could we, while we were in a
dependent state. However, the fault, if it were one, was all our
own; we have none to blame but ourselves. But no great deal
is lost yet. All that Howe has been doing for this month past
is rather a ravage than a conquest, which the spirit of the Jer-
seys a year ago would have quickly repulsed, and which time.
and a little resolution will soon recover.
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 a people to military destruction, or leave them
unsupportedly to perish, who have so earnestly and so repeatedly
sought to avoid the calamities of war, by every decent method.
which wisdom could invent. Neither have I so much of the
infidel in me as to suppose that he has relinquished the govern-
ment of the world, and given us up to the care of devils: and
as I do not, I cannot see on what grounds the King of Britain


## p. 10980 (#192) ##########################################

10980
THOMAS PAINE
can look up to heaven for help against us; a common murderer,
a highwayman, or a house-breaker, has as good a pretense
as he.
'Tis surprising to see how rapidly a panic will sometimes run
through a country. All nations and ages have been subject to
them: Britain has trembled like an ague at the report of a French
fleet of flat-bottomed boats; and in the fourteenth [fifteenth] cen-
tury the whole English army, after ravaging the kingdom of
France, was driven back like men petrified with fear; and this
brave exploit was performed by a few broken forces collected
and headed by a woman, Joan of Arc. Would that heaven might
inspire some Jersey maid to spirit up her countrymen, and save
her fair fellow-sufferers from ravage and ravishment! Yet pan-
ics, in some cases, have their uses; they produce as much good
as hurt. Their duration is always short; the mind soon grows
through them, and acquires a firmer habit than before. But
their peculiar advantage is, that they are the touchstones of sin-
cerity and hypocrisy, and bring things and men to light which
might otherwise have lain forever undiscovered. In fact, they
have the same effect on secret traitors which an imaginary appa-
rition would have upon a private murderer. They sift out the
hidden thoughts of man, and hold them up in public to the
world. Many a disguised Tory has lately shown his head, that
shall penitentially solemnize with curses the day on which Howe
arrived upon the Delaware.
I shall not now attempt to give all the particulars of our
retreat to the Delaware; suffice it for the present to say, that
both officers and men, though greatly harassed and fatigued,
frequently without rest, covering, or provision,- the inevitable
consequences of a long retreat,- bore it with a manly and mar-
tial spirit. All their wishes centred in one; which was, that
the country would turn out and help them to drive the enemy
back. Voltaire has remarked that King William never appeared
to full advantage but in difficulties and in action; the same re-
mark may be made on General Washington, for the character
fits him. There is a natural firmness in some minds which can-
not be unlocked by trifles, but which, when unlocked, discovers a
cabinet of fortitude; and I reckon it among those kinds of public
blessings, which we do not immediately see, that God hath blessed.
him with uninterrupted health, and given him a mind that can
even flourish upon care.
.


## p. 10981 (#193) ##########################################

THOMAS PAINE
10981
Not a place upon earth might be so happy as America. Her
situation is remote from all the wrangling world, and she has
nothing to do but to trade with them. A man can distinguish
himself between temper and principle; and I am as confident as
I am that God governs the world, that America will never be
happy till she gets clear of foreign dominion. Wars, without
ceasing, will break out till that period arrives, and the continent
must in the end be conqueror; for though the flame of liberty
may sometimes cease to shine, the coal can never expire.
America did not, nor does not, want force; but she wanted a
proper application of that force. Wisdom is not the purchase of
a day, and it is no wonder that we should err at the first setting
off. From an excess of tenderness, we were unwilling to raise
an army, and trusted our cause to the temporary defense of a
well-meaning militia. A summer's experience has now taught
us better; yet with those troops, while they were collected, we
were able to set bounds to the progress of the enemy; and thank
God! they are again assembling. I always considered militia as
the best troops in the world for a sudden exertion, but they will
not do for a long campaign. Howe, it is probable, will make an
attempt on this city: should he fail on this side the Delaware, he
is ruined; if he succeeds, our cause is not ruined. He stakes all
on his side against part on ours; admitting he succeeds, the con-
sequence will be that armies from both ends of the continent
will march to assist their suffering friends in the middle States:
for he cannot go everywhere; it is impossible. I consider Howe
as the greatest enemy the Tories have: he is bringing a war
into their country, which, had it not been for him and partly for
themselves, they had been clear of. Should he now be expelled,
I wish with all the devotion of a Christian that the names of
Whig and Tory may never more be mentioned; but should the
Tories give him encouragement to come, or assistance if he
come, I as sincerely wish that our next year's arms may expel
them from the continent, and the Congress appropriate their pos-
sessions to the relief of those who have suffered in well-doing.
A single successful battle next year will settle the whole. Amer-
ica could carry on a two-years' war by the confiscation of the
property of disaffected persons, and be made happy by their
expulsion. Say not that this is revenge; call it rather the self-
resentment of a suffering people, who, having no object in view
but the good of all, have staked their own all upon a seemingly


## p. 10982 (#194) ##########################################

10982
THOMAS PAINE
doubtful event. Yet it is folly to argue against determined hard-
ness: eloquence may strike the ear, and the language of sorrow
draw forth the tear of compassion, but nothing can reach the
heart that is steeled with prejudice.
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; not
on this State or that State, but on every State: up and help us;
lay your shoulders to the wheel: better have too much force than
too little, when so great an object is at stake. Let it be told to
the future world, that in the depth of winter, when nothing but
hope and virtue could survive, that the city and the country,
alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet and to re-
pulse it.
Say not that thousands are gone,-turn out your tens
of thousands; throw not the burden of the day upon Providence,
but "show your faith by your works," that God may bless you.
It matters not where you live, or what rank of life you hold, the
evil or the blessing will reach you all. The far and the near,
the home counties and the back, the rich and the poor, will
suffer or rejoice alike. 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 reflec-
tion. 'Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose
heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will
pursue his principles unto death. My own line of reasoning is to
myself as straight and clear as a ray of light. Not all the treas-
ures of the world, so far as I believe, could have induced me to
support an offensive war, for I think it murder; but if a thief
breaks into my house, burns and destroys my property, and kills
or threatens to kill me or those that are in it, and to "bind me
in all cases whatsoever" to his absolute will, am I to suffer it?
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? If we
reason to the root of things we shall find no difference; neither
can any just cause be assigned why we should punish in the one
case and pardon in the other. Let them call me rebel, and
welcome, I feel no concern from it; but I should suffer the mis-
ery of devils, were I to make a whore of my soul by swearing
_____


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THOMAS PAINE
10983
allegiance to one whose character is that of a sottish, stupid,
stubborn, worthless, brutish man. I conceive likewise a horrid
idea in receiving mercy from a being who at the last day shall be
shrieking to the rocks and mountains to cover him, and fleeing
with terror from the orphan, the widow, and the slain of America.
There are cases which cannot be overdone by language, and
this is one. There are persons, too, who see not the full extent
of the evil which threatens them; they solace themselves with
the hopes that the enemy, if he succeed, will be merciful. It
is the madness of folly to expect mercy from those who have
refused to do justice: and even mercy, where conquest is the
object, is only a trick of war; the cunning of the fox is as mur-
derous as the violence of the wolf, and we ought to guard equally
against both. Howe's first object is, partly by threats and partly
by promises, to terrify or seduce the people to deliver up their
arms and receive mercy. The ministry recommended the same
plan to Gage, and this is what the Tories call making their
peace: "a peace which passeth all understanding," indeed! a peace
which would be the immediate forerunner of a worse ruin than
any we have yet thought of. Ye men of Pennsylvania, do rea-
son upon these things! Were the back counties to give up their
arms, they would fall an easy prey to the Indians, who are well
armed: this perhaps is what some Tories would not be sorry for.
Were the home counties to deliver up their arms, they would be
exposed to the resentment of the back counties, who would then
have it in their power to chastise their defection at pleasure.
And were any one State to give up its arms, that State must be
garrisoned by all Howe's army of Britons and Hessians to pre-
serve it from the anger of the rest. Mutual fear is the principal
link in the chain of mutual love; and woe be to that State that
breaks the compact. Howe is mercifully inviting you to barbar-
ous destruction; and men must be either rogues or fools that will
not see it. I dwell not upon the vapors of imagination: I bring
reason to your ears, and, in language as plain as A B C, hold
up truth to your eyes.
I thank God that I fear not. I see no real cause for fear. I
know our situation well, and can see the way out of it. While
our army was collected, Howe dared not risk a battle: and it
is no credit to him that he decamped from the White Plains,
and waited a mean opportunity to ravage the defenseless Jer-
seys; but it is great credit to us, that with a handful of men we


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10984
THOMAS PAINE
sustained an orderly retreat for near a hundred miles, brought
off our ammunition, all our field-pieces, the greatest part of our
stores, and had four rivers to pass. None can say that our
retreat was precipitate; for we were near three weeks in per-
forming it, that the country might have time to come in. Twice
we marched back to meet the enemy, and remained out till
dark. The sign of fear was not seen in our camp; and had
not some of the cowardly and disaffected inhabitants spread false
alarms through the country, the Jerseys had never been ravaged.
Once more we are again collected and collecting; our new army
at both ends of the continent is recruiting fast, and we shall be
able to open the next campaign with sixty thousand men, well
armed and clothed. This is our situation, and who will may
know it. By perseverance and fortitude we have the prospect of
a glorious issue; by cowardice and submission, the sad choice of
a variety of evils: a ravaged country-a depopulated city-habi-
tations without safety, and slavery without hope-our homes
turned into barracks and bawdy-houses for Hessians—and a
future race to provide for, whose fathers we shall doubt of.
Look on this picture and weep over it! and if there yet remains
one thoughtless wretch who believes it not, let him suffer it
unlamented.
COMMON SENSE.
December 23d, 1776.
THE MAGAZINE IN AMERICA
From the paper written on taking charge of the newly founded Pennsylvania
Magazine, 1775. Reprinted from Moncure D. Conway's edition of The
Writings of Thomas Paine. ' Copyright 1894, by G. P. Putnam's Sons.
I'
NA country whose reigning character is the love of science,
it is somewhat strange that the channels of communication
should continue so narrow and limited. The weekly papers
are at present the only vehicles of public information. Conven-
ience and necessity prove that the opportunities of acquiring and
communicating knowledge ought always to enlarge with the
circle of population. America has now outgrown the state of
infancy: her strength and commerce make large advances to
manhood; and science in all its branches has not only blossomed,
but even ripened on the soil. The cottages as it were of yester-
day have grown to villages, and the villages to cities; and while


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THOMAS PAINE
10985
proud antiquity, like a skeleton in rags, parades the streets of
other nations, their genius, as if sickened and disgusted with the
phantom, comes hither for recovery.
The present enlarged and improved state of things gives every
encouragement which the editor of a new magazine can reason-
ably hope for. The failure of former ones cannot be drawn as
a parallel now. Change of times adds propriety to new meas-
ures. In the early days of colonization, when a whisper was
almost sufficient to have negotiated all our internal concerns, the
publishing even of a newspaper would have been premature.
Those times are past; and population has established both their
use and their credit. But their plan, being almost wholly de-
voted to news and commerce, affords but a scanty residence to
the Muses. Their path lies wide of the field of science, and has
left a rich and unexplored region for new adventures.
It has always been the opinion of the learned and curious,
that a magazine, when properly conducted, is the nursery of
genius; and by constantly accumulating new matter, becomes a
kind of market for wit and utility. The opportunities which it
affords to men of abilities to communicate their studies, kindle
up a spirit of invention and emulation. An unexercised genius
soon contracts a kind of mossiness, which not only checks its
growth, but abates its natural vigor. Like an untenanted house
it falls into decay, and frequently ruins the possessor.
There is nothing which obtains so general an influence over
the manners and morals of a people as the press; from that, as
from a fountain, the streams of vice or virtue are poured forth
over a country: and of all publications, none are more calculated
to improve or infect than a periodical one. All others have
their rise and their exit; but this renews the pursuit. If it has
an evil tendency, it debauches by the power of repetition; if
a good one, it obtains favor by the gracefulness of soliciting it.
Like a lover, it woos its mistress with unabated ardor, nor gives
up the pursuit without a conquest.
The two capital supports of a magazine are Utility and En-
tertainment: the first is a boundless path, the other an endless
spring. To suppose that arts and sciences are exhausted sub-
jects, is doing them a kind of dishonor. The divine mechanism
of creation reproves such folly, and shows us by comparison the
imperfection of our most refined inventions. I cannot believe
that this species of vanity is peculiar to the present age only. I


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10986
THOMAS PAINE
have no doubt but that it existed before the Flood, and even
in the wildest ages of antiquity. 'Tis folly we have inherited,
not created; and the discoveries which every day produces have
greatly contributed to dispossess us of it. Improvement and
the world will expire together; and till that period arrives, we
may plunder the mine, but can never exhaust it! That "We have
found out everything," has been the motto of every age. Let
our ideas travel a little into antiquity, and we shall find larger
portions of it than now; and so unwilling were our ancestors to
descend from this mountain of perfection, that when any new
discovery exceeded the common standard the discoverer was be-
lieved to be in alliance with the Devil. It was not the ignorance
of the age only, but the vanity of it, which rendered it dangerous
to be ingenious. The man who first planned and erected a ten-
able hut, with a hole for the smoke to pass and the light to
enter, was perhaps called an able architect; but he who first
improved it with a chimney could be no less than a prodigy: yet
had the same man been so unfortunate as to have embellished it
with glass windows, he might probably have been burnt for a
magician. Our fancies would be highly diverted could we look
back and behold a circle of original Indians haranguing on the
sublime perfection of the age; yet 'tis not impossible but future
times may exceed us almost as much as we have exceeded them.
I would wish to extirpate the least remains of this impolitic
vanity. It has a direct tendency to unbrace the nerves of inven-
tion, and is peculiarly hurtful to young colonies. A magazine
can never want matter in America, if the inhabitants will do
justice to their own abilities. Agriculture and manufactures owe
much of their improvement in England to hints first thrown out
in some of their magazines. Gentlemen whose abilities enabled
them to make experiments, frequently chose that method of com-
munication on account of its convenience. And why should not
the same spirit operate in America? I have no doubt of seeing,
in a little time, an American magazine full of more useful mat-
ter than I ever saw an English one: because we are not exceeded
in abilities, have a more extensive field for inquiry; and whatever
may be our political state, our happiness will always depend upon
ourselves.
Something useful will always arise from exercising the in-
vention, though perhaps, like the witch of Endor, we shall raise
up a being we did not expect. We owe many of our noblest


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THOMAS PAINE
10987
discoveries more to accident than wisdom. In quest of a pebble
we have found a diamond, and returned enriched with the treas-
ure.
Such happy accidents give additional encouragement to the
making experiments; and the convenience which a magazine
affords of collecting and conveying them to the public, enhances
their utility. Where this opportunity is wanting, many little in-
ventions, the forerunners of improvement, are suffered to expire
on the spot that produced them; and as an elegant writer beauti-
fully expresses on another occasion, they "waste their sweetness
on the desert air. "
In matters of humor and entertainment there can be no reason
to apprehend a deficiency. Wit is naturally a volunteer, delights
in action, and under proper discipline is capable of great exe-
cution. 'Tis a perfect master in the art of bush-fighting; and
though it attacks with more subtilty than science, has often
defeated a whole regiment of heavy artillery. Though I have
rather exceeded the line of gravity in this description of wit, I
am unwilling to dismiss it without being a little more serious.
'Tis a qualification which, like the passions, has a natural wild-
ness that requires governing. Left to itself, it soon overflows
its banks, mixes with common filth, and brings disrepute on the
fountain. We have many valuable springs of it in America,
which at present run purer streams than the generality of it in
other countries. In France and Italy, 'tis froth highly fomented.
In England it has much of the same spirit, but rather a browner
complexion. European wit is one of the worst articles we can
import. It has an intoxicating power with it, which debauches.
the very vitals of chastity, and gives a false coloring to every.
thing it censures or defends. We soon grow fatigued with the
excess, and withdraw like gluttons sickened with intemperance.
On the contrary, how happily are the sallies of innocent humor
calculated to amuse and sweeten the vacancy of business! We
enjoy the harmless luxury without surfeiting, and strengthen the
spirits by relaxing them.
I consider a magazine as a kind of beehive, which both
allures the swarm and provides room to store their sweets. Its
division into cells gives every bee a province of his own; and
though they all produce honey, yet perhaps they differ in their
taste for flowers, and extract with greater dexterity from one
than from another. Thus we are not all Philosophers, all Artists,
nor all Poets.


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10988
JOHN GORHAM PALFREY
(1796-1881)
N THE preface to the fourth volume of his 'History of New
England,' John Gorham Palfrey sets forth his conception of
the significance of the work upon which he is engaged.
"The history of New England," he writes, "is considered to be dry and
unpicturesque. But by peculiar titles it deserves, beyond the record of dynas-
tic intrigues and wars, to be known to the philosophical student of man and
society, of Divine Providence, and of the progress of the race. In more stir-
ring narratives one may read of the conflicts of furious human passions, of
the baseness of men in high degree, of revo-
lutions due to thing worthy and issuing in
nothing profitable. In the colonial history of
New England, we follow the strenuous action
of intelligent and honest men in building up a
free, strong, enlightened, and happy State. With
sagacity, promptitude, patience, and constancy,
they hold their ground from age to age. Each
generation trains the next in the lessons of lib-
erty, and advances it to further attainments;
and when the time comes for the result of the
modest process to be disclosed, behold the estab-
lishment of the political independence of America,
and the boundless spread of principles which are
working for good in the politics of the world. »

JOHN G. PALFREY
Mr. Palfrey's New England ancestry must
have influenced him not a little in forming this estimate of the im-
portance of New England's development in the economy of interna-
tional affairs. He himself was of a prominent Massachusetts family;
his blood was rich in traditions of honor and godliness; he was an
outgrowth of the soil upon which many generations had fought for
the maintenance of high principles. His grandfather, Colonel William
Palfrey, had been a paymaster-general in the Revolutionary army.
Later he was appointed by the young Republic consul-general to
France, but the vessel on which he sailed was lost at sea. John
Gorham Palfrey was born at Boston in 1796. He graduated from
Harvard in 1815, and in 1818 he accepted the charge of the Brattle
Street Unitarian Church in his native city. The ministry was not


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JOHN GORHAM PALFREY
10989
altogether congenial to him, and he entered gradually into other
fields of activity. From 1831 to 1839 he held the Dexter professor-
ship of Sacred Literature at Harvard; and from 1836 to 1843 he
edited the North American Review. Towards the close of his editor-
ship he was drawn into politics, or rather into the dignified and
wholly worthy political life possible to a New England gentleman
fifty years ago. He was a member of the Massachusetts Legislature
in 1842; from 1844 to 1847 he was Secretary of State. The anti-
slavery movement was attaining strength in the East during these
years: Ir. Palfrey, who was a strong abolitionist, contributed a series
of articles to the Boston Whig on the 'Progress of the Slave Power. '
In 1847 he was sent to Congress as an anti-slavery Whig. Subse-
quently he was defeated in an election for the governorship of Mas-
sachusetts. After this defeat he devoted himself exclusively to his
literary labors, taking office only once again, when from 1861 to 1866
he held the postmastership of Boston. He died at Cambridge in
1881.