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:
_Boston_, January 11, 1843.
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.
I am, very respectfully, your obedient servant,
HORACE SEAVER.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
_West Roxbury_, January 14, 1843.
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.
I am, respectfully, Your obedient servant, THEODORE PARKER.
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.
Let us now retrace our steps, and see how strong a case is made out.
1. Twelve facts in the life of Mr. Paine shown to be the same as those in Junius.
2. An apparent contradiction proven to be a parallel fact.
3. They both represent Quaker principles.
4. They have the same views of conscience.
5. Both believe in the divine justice of retribution.
6. Both believe in future punishment.
7. Both have the same views of prayer.
8. Both have the same dislike to the word infidel.
9. Both have the same opinion of Jesus of Nazareth.
10. Both have the same views of Christianity.
11. Both use the term Christian the same.
12. Both had a special dislike to Methodism.
13. Both were inveterate enemies to priestcraft.
14. Both made a wide difference between piety and morality.
15. Both had the same views of the Catholic faith.
16. Both ridiculed "Peter."
17. Both affirmed that they did not persecute for religious opinion.
18. Both hated a narrow system in politics or religion.
19. Both had the same views of "religion."
20. Both had the same views of superstition.
21. Both had the same views of atheism.
22. Both had the same views of providence.
23. Both had the same views of the theater.
24. Both detested gamblers and gambling.
25. Both had the same opinion of the English Constitution.
26. Both were extremely cautious.
27. Both were extremely politic.
28. Both loved method.
29. Both evinced the same kind of method in writing.
30. Both had the same views of the origin of military governments.
31. Both had the same views of party politics.
32. Neither would take part in party politics.
33. Both had the same pride of character.
34. Both had the same views of the English army.
35. Both loved free thought.
36. Both thought alike of suspicion.
37. Both expressed the same views of antagonism.
38. Both placed personal interest above strict moral right.
39. Both thought alike of oaths.
40. They had the same opinion of courts and courtiers.
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.
42. They both had the same opinion of Lord North.
43. Both had the same opinion of Lord Mansfield.
44. Both had the same views of precedent.
45. Both had the same opinion of lawyers.
46. Both had the same views of the cause of America.
47. Both had the same views of the minority in England.
48. And herein the same views of Lord Chatham.
49. Both traced the rights of man back to their origin.
50. Both express themselves alike in regard to laws in general.
51. Both express themselves alike in regard to the _game law_.
52. Both declare _law to be king_.
53. They had the same predilections in regard to politics.
54. They were neither of them partisans.
55. They were both practical.
56. Both often appealed to experience and the evidence of facts.
57. Both assert the mind becomes what it contemplates.
58. Both were deeply read in the "_history of the human heart_."
59. Both delight in charging _bastardy_.
60. Secretiveness was a ruling characteristic.
61. Both had the same opinion of moderate men.
62. They were both enthusiasts.
63. Both were too proud to be vain or to flatter.
64. Both placed too high an estimate on the judgment of the masses.
65. Both were excessively hopeful.
66. Personal honor unparalleled in history.
67. Both express themselves alike in regard to avarice and the miser.
68. Both often assert that "language fails."
69. Both have the same method of argumentation, and hereunder many parallels are given.
70. Both have the same style, and hereunder many parallels are given.
71. More than sixty parallel expressions and figures of speech are given.
72. They both use the same kind of figures the most frequently.
73. They use the figure in the same manner, and usually one at the close of an article.
74. Both use the same facts and figure to illustrate national honor.
75. The same rythm in style is common to both.
76. The same alliteration.
77. The same method of bringing the subject into one view.
78. The wandering from the point and mentioning the fact.
79. The same threat, command, and warning.
80. The same method of ridicule and satire.
81. The same use of diminutives.
82. The same sacrifice of grammar to conciseness.
83. The same majesty and grandeur of style.
84. _Common Sense parallels with Junius_, in many ways, and hereunder more than forty examples, which to repeat would be to rewrite them.
85. They were both revolutionists.
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.
88. Both had the same opinion of bribery at elections.
89. They were both political reformers, following the same principle without pay and above party.
* * * * *
{190}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.]
{191}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 L10,000, 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.
{195}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.
In a work of this kind, it is incumbent on the critic to ascertain, first, the spirit and object of the work, and then to see if it be inconsistent with itself. If it is not, then the character he finds will be true to nature, and he can not go wrong in his conclusions. There is a passage in Letter 53 on this very point. Junius is speaking of the Rev. Mr. Horne, and says: "He repeatedly affirms, or intimates, at least, that he knows the author of these Letters. With what color of truth, then, can he pretend 'that I am nowhere to be encountered but in a newspaper?' I shall leave him to his suspicions. It is not necessary that I should confide in the honor and discretion of a man who always seems to hate me with as much rancor as if I had formerly been his friend. But he asserts that he has traced me through a variety of signatures. To make the discovery of any importance to his purpose, he should have proved either that the fictitious character of Junius has not been consistently supported, or that the author has maintained different principles under different signatures. I can not recall to my memory the numberless trifles I have written; _but I rely on the consciousness of my own_ INTEGRITY, and defy him to fix any colorable charge of _inconsistency_ upon me."
* * * * *
Now, what have I shown? It is that the character of Thomas Paine, as found in his writings (not in what people say about him), is the very same character, with all its shades and coloring, which is found in the LETTERS OF JUNIUS. This is shown by the best and strongest evidence under the sun, _internal_ evidence. I have purposely avoided all external evidence, from the mere fact of its worthlessness, inasmuch as it is that kind of evidence which itself needs proof. If, for example, Thomas Paine had said to some one: "I wrote Junius," it would be no evidence to me, and would weigh just the same as if he had said: "I did not write Junius." It is external evidence, and may be a lie, for lying is common to mankind. It is that kind of evidence which needs proof. But nature never makes two great characters alike, nor at the same time. She is prodigal of varieties. And if two characters seem alike, it is because of their insignificance; the orbit of their life is so small it can not be measured. But when a Paine, or a Parker, or a Luther, or a Jesus, is let loose on earth, they each describe an orbit so large and peculiar there is no mistaking it for any thing else the world ever exhibits among men. And in their earthly pilgrimage, however seemingly erratic in their course, nature holds them true to her purposes, and holds up no lie therein to deceive the senses. She is true, also, to _herself_, in giving to us these world's redeemers.
My argument, then, is, Nature would not be natural if Thomas Paine were not Junius, _a mere absurdity_. But let us suppose he is not. Then, to make out the case, strong evidence of the same _internal_ kind would have to be produced in favor of this supposition. But I have searched for a solitary fact which would even tend to contradict my hypothesis, and have not found it. And I frankly confess, had I found it, this book would not have been written. Reader, search for it yourself, and, when found, publish it to the world, for the world is suffering for the want of truth. And though my conclusions be false, if I have been the means of revealing the truth, I shall not have written in vain.