The Crisis The Crisis No. 7 - To the People of England.
by Thomas Paine
There are stages in the business of serious life in which to amuse is
cruel, but to deceive is to destroy; and it is of little consequence,
in the conclusion, whether men deceive themselves, or submit, by a
kind of mutual consent, to the impositions of each other. That
England has long been under the influence of delusion or mistake,
needs no other proof than the unexpected and wretched situation that
she is now involved in: and so powerful has been the influence, that
no provision was ever made or thought of against the misfortune,
because the possibility of its happening was never conceived.
The general and successful resistance of America, the conquest of
Burgoyne, and a war in France, were treated in parliament as the
dreams of a discontented opposition, or a distempered imagination.
They were beheld as objects unworthy of a serious thought, and the
bare intimation of them afforded the ministry a triumph of laughter.
Short triumph indeed! For everything which has been predicted has
happened, and all that was promised has failed. A long series of
politics so remarkably distinguished by a succession of misfortunes,
without one alleviating turn, must certainly have something in it
systematically wrong. It is sufficient to awaken the most credulous
into suspicion, and the most obstinate into thought. Either the means
in your power are insufficient, or the measures ill planned; either
the execution has been bad, or the thing attempted impracticable; or,
to speak more emphatically, either you are not able or heaven is not
willing. For, why is it that you have not conquered us? Who, or what
has prevented you? You have had every opportunity that you could
desire, and succeeded to your utmost wish in every preparatory means.
Your fleets and armies have arrived in America without an accident.
No uncommon fortune has intervened. No foreign nation has interfered
until the time which you had allotted for victory was passed. The
opposition, either in or out of parliament, neither disconcerted your
measures, retarded or diminished your force. They only foretold your
fate. Every ministerial scheme was carried with as high a hand as if
the whole nation had been unanimous. Every thing wanted was asked
for, and every thing asked for was granted.
A greater force was not within the compass of your abilities to send,
and the time you sent it was of all others the most favorable. You
were then at rest with the whole world beside. You had the range of
every court in Europe uncontradicted by us. You amused us with a tale
of commissioners of peace, and under that disguise collected a
numerous army and came almost unexpectedly upon us. The force was
much greater than we looked for; and that which we had to oppose it
with, was unequal in numbers, badly armed, and poorly disciplined;
beside which, it was embodied only for a short time, and expired
within a few months after your arrival. We had governments to form;
measures to concert; an army to train, and every necessary article to
import or to create. Our non-importation scheme had exhausted our
stores, and your command by sea intercepted our supplies. We were a
people unknown, and unconnected with the political world, and
strangers to the disposition of foreign powers. Could you possibly
wish for a more favorable conjunction of circumstances? Yet all these
have happened and passed away, and, as it were, left you with a
laugh. There are likewise, events of such an original nativity as can
never happen again, unless a new world should arise from the ocean.
If any thing can be a lesson to presumption, surely the circumstances
of this war will have their effect. Had Britain been defeated by any
European power, her pride would have drawn consolation from the
importance of her conquerors; but in the present case, she is
excelled by those that she affected to despise, and her own opinions
retorting upon herself, become an aggravation of her disgrace.
Misfortune and experience are lost upon mankind, when they produce
neither reflection nor reformation. Evils, like poisons, have their
uses, and there are diseases which no other remedy can reach. It has
been the crime and folly of England to suppose herself invincible,
and that, without acknowledging or perceiving that a full third of
her strength was drawn from the country she is now at war with. The
arm of Britain has been spoken of as the arm of the Almighty, and she
has lived of late as if she thought the whole world created for her
diversion. Her politics, instead of civilizing, has tended to
brutalize mankind, and under the vain, unmeaning title of "Defender
of the Faith," she has made war like an Indian against the religion
of humanity. Her cruelties in the East Indies will never be
forgotten, and it is somewhat remarkable that the produce of that
ruined country, transported to America, should there kindle up a war
to punish the destroyer. The chain is continued, though with a
mysterious kind of uniformity both in the crime and the punishment.
The latter runs parallel with the former, and time and fate will give
it a perfect illustration.
When information is withheld, ignorance becomes a reasonable excuse;
and one would charitably hope that the people of England do not
encourage cruelty from choice but from mistake. Their recluse
situation, surrounded by the sea, preserves them from the calamities
of war, and keeps them in the dark as to the conduct of their own
armies. They see not, therefore they feel not. They tell the tale
that is told them and believe it, and accustomed to no other news
than their own, they receive it, stripped of its horrors and prepared
for the palate of the nation, through the channel of the London
Gazette. They are made to believe that their generals and armies
differ from those of other nations, and have nothing of rudeness or
barbarity in them. They suppose them what they wish them to be. They
feel a disgrace in thinking otherwise, and naturally encourage the
belief from a partiality to themselves. There was a time when I felt
the same prejudices, and reasoned from the same errors; but
experience, sad and painful experience, has taught me better. What
the conduct of former armies was, I know not, but what the conduct of
the present is, I well know. It is low, cruel, indolent and
profligate; and had the people of America no other cause for
separation than what the army has occasioned, that alone is cause
sufficient.
The field of politics in England is far more extensive than that of
news. Men have a right to reason for themselves, and though they
cannot contradict the intelligence in the London Gazette, they may
frame upon it what sentiments they please. But the misfortune is,
that a general ignorance has prevailed over the whole nation
respecting America. The ministry and the minority have both been
wrong. The former was always so, the latter only lately so. Politics,
to be executively right, must have a unity of means and time, and a
defect in either overthrows the whole. The ministry rejected the
plans of the minority while they were practicable, and joined in them
when they became impracticable. From wrong measures they got into
wrong time, and have now completed the circle of absurdity by closing
it upon themselves.
I happened to come to America a few months before the breaking out of
hostilities. I found the disposition of the people such, that they
might have been led by a thread and governed by a reed. Their
suspicion was quick and penetrating, but their attachment to Britain
was obstinate, and it was at that time a kind of treason to speak
against it. They disliked the ministry, but they esteemed the nation.
Their idea of grievance operated without resentment, and their single
object was reconciliation. Bad as I believed the ministry to be, I
never conceived them capable of a measure so rash and wicked as the
commencing of hostilities; much less did I imagine the nation would
encourage it. I viewed the dispute as a kind of law-suit, in which I
supposed the parties would find a way either to decide or settle it.
I had no thoughts of independence or of arms. The world could not
then have persuaded me that I should be either a soldier or an
author. If I had any talents for either, they were buried in me, and
might ever have continued so, had not the necessity of the times
dragged and driven them into action. I had formed my plan of life,
and conceiving myself happy, wished every body else so. But when the
country, into which I had just set my foot, was set on fire about my
ears, it was time to stir. It was time for every man to stir. Those
who had been long settled had something to defend; those who had just
come had something to pursue; and the call and the concern was equal
and universal. For in a country where all men were once adventurers,
the difference of a few years in their arrival could make none in
their right.
The breaking out of hostilities opened a new suspicion in the
politics of America, which, though at that time very rare, has since
been proved to be very right. What I allude to is, "a secret and
fixed determination in the British Cabinet to annex America to the
crown of England as a conquered country." If this be taken as the
object, then the whole line of conduct pursued by the ministry,
though rash in its origin and ruinous in its consequences, is
nevertheless uniform and consistent in its parts. It applies to every
case and resolves every difficulty. But if taxation, or any thing
else, be taken in its room, there is no proportion between the object
and the charge. Nothing but the whole soil and property of the
country can be placed as a possible equivalent against the millions
which the ministry expended. No taxes raised in America could
possibly repay it. A revenue of two millions sterling a year would
not discharge the sum and interest accumulated thereon, in twenty
years.
Reconciliation never appears to have been the wish or the object of
the administration; they looked on conquest as certain and
infallible, and, under that persuasion, sought to drive the Americans
into what they might style a general rebellion, and then, crushing
them with arms in their hands, reap the rich harvest of a general
confiscation, and silence them for ever. The dependents at court were
too numerous to be provided for in England. The market for plunder in
the East Indies was over; and the profligacy of government required
that a new mine should be opened, and that mine could be no other
than America, conquered and forfeited. They had no where else to go.
Every other channel was drained; and extravagance, with the thirst of
a drunkard, was gaping for supplies.
If the ministry deny this to have been their plan, it becomes them to
explain what was their plan. For either they have abused us in
coveting property they never labored for, or they have abused you in
expending an amazing sum upon an incompetent object. Taxation, as I
mentioned before, could never be worth the charge of obtaining it by
arms; and any kind of formal obedience which America could have made,
would have weighed with the lightness of a laugh against such a load
of expense. It is therefore most probable that the ministry will at
last justify their policy by their dishonesty, and openly declare,
that their original design was conquest: and, in this case, it well
becomes the people of England to consider how far the nation would
have been benefited by the success.
In a general view, there are few conquests that repay the charge of
making them, and mankind are pretty well convinced that it can never
be worth their while to go to war for profit's sake. If they are made
war upon, their country invaded, or their existence at stake, it is
their duty to defend and preserve themselves, but in every other
light, and from every other cause, is war inglorious and detestable.
But to return to the case in question-
When conquests are made of foreign countries, it is supposed that the
commerce and dominion of the country which made them are extended.
But this could neither be the object nor the consequence of the
present war. You enjoyed the whole commerce before. It could receive
no possible addition by a conquest, but on the contrary, must
diminish as the inhabitants were reduced in numbers and wealth. You
had the same dominion over the country which you used to have, and
had no complaint to make against her for breach of any part of the
contract between you or her, or contending against any established
custom, commercial, political or territorial. The country and
commerce were both your own when you began to conquer, in the same
manner and form as they had been your own a hundred years before.
Nations have sometimes been induced to make conquests for the sake of
reducing the power of their enemies, or bringing it to a balance with
their own. But this could be no part of your plan. No foreign
authority was claimed here, neither was any such authority suspected
by you, or acknowledged or imagined by us. What then, in the name of
heaven, could you go to war for? Or what chance could you possibly
have in the event, but either to hold the same country which you held
before, and that in a much worse condition, or to lose, with an
amazing expense, what you might have retained without a farthing of
charges?
War never can be the interest of a trading nation, any more than
quarrelling can be profitable to a man in business. But to make war
with those who trade with us, is like setting a bull-dog upon a
customer at the shop-door. The least degree of common sense shows the
madness of the latter, and it will apply with the same force of
conviction to the former. Piratical nations, having neither commerce
or commodities of their own to lose, may make war upon all the world,
and lucratively find their account in it; but it is quite otherwise
with Britain: for, besides the stoppage of trade in time of war, she
exposes more of her own property to be lost, than she has the chance
of taking from others. Some ministerial gentlemen in parliament have
mentioned the greatness of her trade as an apology for the greatness
of her loss. This is miserable politics indeed! Because it ought to
have been given as a reason for her not engaging in a war at first.
The coast of America commands the West India trade almost as
effectually as the coast of Africa does that of the Straits; and
England can no more carry on the former without the consent of
America, than she can the latter without a Mediterranean pass.
In whatever light the war with America is considered upon commercial
principles, it is evidently the interest of the people of England not
to support it; and why it has been supported so long, against the
clearest demonstrations of truth and national advantage, is, to me,
and must be to all the reasonable world, a matter of astonishment.
Perhaps it may be said that I live in America, and write this from
interest. To this I reply, that my principle is universal. My
attachment is to all the world, and not to any particular part, and
if what I advance is right, no matter where or who it comes from. We
have given the proclamation of your commissioners a currency in our
newspapers, and I have no doubt you will give this a place in yours.
To oblige and be obliged is fair.
Before I dismiss this part of my address, I shall mention one more
circumstance in which I think the people of England have been equally
mistaken: and then proceed to other matters.
There is such an idea existing in the world, as that of national
honor, and this, falsely understood, is oftentimes the cause of war.
In a Christian and philosophical sense, mankind seem to have stood
still at individual civilization, and to retain as nations all the
original rudeness of nature. Peace by treaty is only a cessation of
violence for a reformation of sentiment. It is a substitute for a
principle that is wanting and ever will be wanting till the idea of
national honor be rightly understood. As individuals we profess
ourselves Christians, but as nations we are heathens, Romans, and
what not. I remember the late Admiral Saunders declaring in the House
of Commons, and that in the time of peace, "That the city of Madrid
laid in ashes was not a sufficient atonement for the Spaniards taking
off the rudder of an English sloop of war." I do not ask whether this
is Christianity or morality, I ask whether it is decency? whether it
is proper language for a nation to use? In private life we call it by
the plain name of bullying, and the elevation of rank cannot alter
its character. It is, I think, exceedingly easy to define what ought
to be understood by national honor; for that which is the best
character for an individual is the best character for a nation; and
wherever the latter exceeds or falls beneath the former, there is a
departure from the line of true greatness.
I have thrown out this observation with a design of applying it to
Great Britain. Her ideas of national honor seem devoid of that
benevolence of heart, that universal expansion of philanthropy, and
that triumph over the rage of vulgar prejudice, without which man is
inferior to himself, and a companion of common animals. To know who
she shall regard or dislike, she asks what country they are of, what
religion they profess, and what property they enjoy. Her idea of
national honor seems to consist in national insult, and that to be a
great people, is to be neither a Christian, a philosopher, or a
gentleman, but to threaten with the rudeness of a bear, and to devour
with the ferocity of a lion. This perhaps may sound harsh and
uncourtly, but it is too true, and the more is the pity.
I mention this only as her general character. But towards America she
has observed no character at all; and destroyed by her conduct what
she assumed in her title. She set out with the title of parent, or
mother country. The association of ideas which naturally accompany
this expression, are filled with everything that is fond, tender and
forbearing. They have an energy peculiar to themselves, and,
overlooking the accidental attachment of common affections, apply
with infinite softness to the first feelings of the heart. It is a
political term which every mother can feel the force of, and every
child can judge of. It needs no painting of mine to set it off, for
nature only can do it justice.
But has any part of your conduct to America corresponded with the
title you set up? If in your general national character you are
unpolished and severe, in this you are inconsistent and unnatural,
and you must have exceeding false notions of national honor to
suppose that the world can admire a want of humanity or that national
honor depends on the violence of resentment, the inflexibility of
temper, or the vengeance of execution.
I would willingly convince you, and that with as much temper as the
times will suffer me to do, that as you opposed your own interest by
quarrelling with us, so likewise your national honor, rightly
conceived and understood, was no ways called upon to enter into a war
with America; had you studied true greatness of heart, the first and
fairest ornament of mankind, you would have acted directly contrary
to all that you have done, and the world would have ascribed it to a
generous cause. Besides which, you had (though with the assistance of
this country) secured a powerful name by the last war. You were known
and dreaded abroad; and it would have been wise in you to have
suffered the world to have slept undisturbed under that idea. It was
to you a force existing without expense. It produced to you all the
advantages of real power; and you were stronger through the
universality of that charm, than any future fleets and armies may
probably make you. Your greatness was so secured and interwoven with
your silence that you ought never to have awakened mankind, and had
nothing to do but to be quiet. Had you been true politicians you
would have seen all this, and continued to draw from the magic of a
name, the force and authority of a nation.
Unwise as you were in breaking the charm, you were still more unwise
in the manner of doing it. Samson only told the secret, but you have
performed the operation; you have shaven your own head, and wantonly
thrown away the locks. America was the hair from which the charm was
drawn that infatuated the world. You ought to have quarrelled with no
power; but with her upon no account. You had nothing to fear from any
condescension you might make. You might have humored her, even if
there had been no justice in her claims, without any risk to your
reputation; for Europe, fascinated by your fame, would have ascribed
it to your benevolence, and America, intoxicated by the grant, would
have slumbered in her fetters.
But this method of studying the progress of the passions, in order to
ascertain the probable conduct of mankind, is a philosophy in
politics which those who preside at St. James's have no conception
of. They know no other influence than corruption and reckon all their
probabilities from precedent. A new case is to them a new world, and
while they are seeking for a parallel they get lost. The talents of
Lord Mansfield can be estimated at best no higher than those of a
sophist. He understands the subtleties but not the elegance of
nature; and by continually viewing mankind through the cold medium of
the law, never thinks of penetrating into the warmer region of the
mind. As for Lord North, it is his happiness to have in him more
philosophy than sentiment, for he bears flogging like a top, and
sleeps the better for it. His punishment becomes his support, for
while he suffers the lash for his sins, he keeps himself up by
twirling about. In politics, he is a good arithmetician, and in every
thing else nothing at all.
There is one circumstance which comes so much within Lord North's
province as a financier, that I am surprised it should escape him,
which is, the different abilities of the two countries in supporting
the expense; for, strange as it may seem, England is not a match for
America in this particular. By a curious kind of revolution in
accounts, the people of England seem to mistake their poverty for
their riches; that is, they reckon their national debt as a part of
their national wealth. They make the same kind of error which a man
would do, who after mortgaging his estate, should add the money
borrowed, to the full value of the estate, in order to count up his
worth, and in this case he would conceive that he got rich by running
into debt. Just thus it is with England. The government owed at the
beginning of this war one hundred and thirty-five millions sterling,
and though the individuals to whom it was due had a right to reckon
their shares as so much private property, yet to the nation
collectively it was so much poverty. There are as effectual limits to
public debts as to private ones, for when once the money borrowed is
so great as to require the whole yearly revenue to discharge the
interest thereon, there is an end to further borrowing; in the same
manner as when the interest of a man's debts amounts to the yearly
income of his estate, there is an end to his credit. This is nearly
the case with England, the interest of her present debt being at
least equal to one half of her yearly revenue, so that out of ten
millions annually collected by taxes, she has but five that she can
call her own.
The very reverse of this was the case with America; she began the war
without any debt upon her, and in order to carry it on, she neither
raised money by taxes, nor borrowed it upon interest, but created it;
and her situation at this time continues so much the reverse of yours
that taxing would make her rich, whereas it would make you poor. When
we shall have sunk the sum which we have created, we shall then be
out of debt, be just as rich as when we began, and all the while we
are doing it shall feel no difference, because the value will rise as
the quantity decreases.
There was not a country in the world so capable of bearing the
expense of a war as America; not only because she was not in debt
when she began, but because the country is young and capable of
infinite improvement, and has an almost boundless tract of new lands
in store; whereas England has got to her extent of age and growth,
and has not unoccupied land or property in reserve. The one is like a
young heir coming to a large improvable estate; the other like an old
man whose chances are over, and his estate mortgaged for half its
worth.
In the second number of the Crisis, which I find has been republished
in England, I endeavored to set forth the impracticability of
conquering America. I stated every case, that I conceived could
possibly happen, and ventured to predict its consequences. As my
conclusions were drawn not artfully, but naturally, they have all
proved to be true. I was upon the spot; knew the politics of America,
her strength and resources, and by a train of services, the best in
my power to render, was honored with the friendship of the congress,
the army and the people. I considered the cause a just one. I know
and feel it a just one, and under that confidence never made my own
profit or loss an object. My endeavor was to have the matter well
understood on both sides, and I conceived myself tendering a general
service, by setting forth to the one the impossibility of being
conquered, and to the other the impossibility of conquering. Most of
the arguments made use of by the ministry for supporting the war, are
the very arguments that ought to have been used against supporting
it; and the plans, by which they thought to conquer, are the very
plans in which they were sure to be defeated. They have taken every
thing up at the wrong end. Their ignorance is astonishing, and were
you in my situation you would see it. They may, perhaps, have your
confidence, but I am persuaded that they would make very indifferent
members of Congress. I know what England is, and what America is, and
from the compound of knowledge, am better enabled to judge of the
issue than what the king or any of his ministers can be.
In this number I have endeavored to show the ill policy and
disadvantages of the war. I believe many of my remarks are new. Those
which are not so, I have studied to improve and place in a manner
that may be clear and striking. Your failure is, I am persuaded, as
certain as fate. America is above your reach. She is at least your
equal in the world, and her independence neither rests upon your
consent, nor can it be prevented by your arms. In short, you spend
your substance in vain, and impoverish yourselves without a hope.
But suppose you had conquered America, what advantages, collectively
or individually, as merchants, manufacturers, or conquerors, could
you have looked for? This is an object you seemed never to have
attended to. Listening for the sound of victory, and led away by the
frenzy of arms, you neglected to reckon either the cost or the
consequences. You must all pay towards the expense; the poorest among
you must bear his share, and it is both your right and your duty to
weigh seriously the matter. Had America been conquered, she might
have been parcelled out in grants to the favorites at court, but no
share of it would have fallen to you. Your taxes would not have been
lessened, because she would have been in no condition to have paid
any towards your relief. We are rich by contrivance of our own, which
would have ceased as soon as you became masters. Our paper money will
be of no use in England, and silver and gold we have none. In the
last war you made many conquests, but were any of your taxes lessened
thereby? On the contrary, were you not taxed to pay for the charge of
making them, and has not the same been the case in every war?
To the Parliament I wish to address myself in a more particular
manner. They appear to have supposed themselves partners in the
chase, and to have hunted with the lion from an expectation of a
right in the booty; but in this it is most probable they would, as
legislators, have been disappointed. The case is quite a new one, and
many unforeseen difficulties would have arisen thereon. The
Parliament claimed a legislative right over America, and the war
originated from that pretence. But the army is supposed to belong to
the crown, and if America had been conquered through their means, the
claim of the legislature would have been suffocated in the conquest.
Ceded, or conquered, countries are supposed to be out of the
authority of Parliament. Taxation is exercised over them by
prerogative and not by law. It was attempted to be done in the
Grenadas a few years ago, and the only reason why it was not done was
because the crown had made a prior relinquishment of its claim.
Therefore, Parliament have been all this while supporting measures
for the establishment of their authority, in the issue of which, they
would have been triumphed over by the prerogative. This might have
opened a new and interesting opposition between the Parliament and
the crown. The crown would have said that it conquered for itself,
and that to conquer for Parliament was an unknown case. The
Parliament might have replied, that America not being a foreign
country, but a country in rebellion, could not be said to be
conquered, but reduced; and thus continued their claim by disowning
the term. The crown might have rejoined, that however America might
be considered at first, she became foreign at last by a declaration
of independence, and a treaty with France; and that her case being,
by that treaty, put within the law of nations, was out of the law of
Parliament, who might have maintained, that as their claim over
America had never been surrendered, so neither could it be taken
away. The crown might have insisted, that though the claim of
Parliament could not be taken away, yet, being an inferior, it might
be superseded; and that, whether the claim was withdrawn from the
object, or the object taken from the claim, the same separation
ensued; and that America being subdued after a treaty with France,
was to all intents and purposes a regal conquest, and of course the
sole property of the king. The Parliament, as the legal delegates of
the people, might have contended against the term "inferior," and
rested the case upon the antiquity of power, and this would have
brought on a set of very interesting and rational questions.
1st, What is the original fountain of power and honor in any country?
2d, Whether the prerogative does not belong to the people?
3d, Whether there is any such thing as the English constitution?
4th, Of what use is the crown to the people?
5th, Whether he who invented a crown was not an enemy to mankind?
6th, Whether it is not a shame for a man to spend a million a year
and do no good for it, and whether the money might not be better
applied?
7th, Whether such a man is not better dead than alive?
8th, Whether a Congress, constituted like that of America, is not the
most happy and consistent form of government in the world?- With a
number of others of the same import.
In short, the contention about the dividend might have distracted the
nation; for nothing is more common than to agree in the conquest and
quarrel for the prize; therefore it is, perhaps, a happy
circumstance, that our successes have prevented the dispute.
If the Parliament had been thrown out in their claim, which it is
most probable they would, the nation likewise would have been thrown
out in their expectation; for as the taxes would have been laid on by
the crown without the Parliament, the revenue arising therefrom, if
any could have arisen, would not have gone into the exchequer, but
into the privy purse, and so far from lessening the taxes, would not
even have been added to them, but served only as pocket money to the
crown. The more I reflect on this matter, the more I am satisfied at
the blindness and ill policy of my countrymen, whose wisdom seems to
operate without discernment, and their strength without an object.
To the great bulwark of the nation, I mean the mercantile and
manufacturing part thereof, I likewise present my address. It is your
interest to see America an independent, and not a conquered country.
If conquered, she is ruined; and if ruined, poor; consequently the
trade will be a trifle, and her credit doubtful. If independent, she
flourishes, and from her flourishing must your profits arise. It
matters nothing to you who governs America, if your manufactures find
a consumption there. Some articles will consequently be obtained from
other places, and it is right that they should; but the demand for
others will increase, by the great influx of inhabitants which a
state of independence and peace will occasion, and in the final event
you may be enriched. The commerce of America is perfectly free, and
ever will be so. She will consign away no part of it to any nation.
She has not to her friends, and certainly will not to her enemies;
though it is probable that your narrow-minded politicians, thinking
to please you thereby, may some time or other unnecessarily make such
a proposal. Trade flourishes best when it is free, and it is weak
policy to attempt to fetter it. Her treaty with France is on the most
liberal and generous principles, and the French, in their conduct
towards her, have proved themselves to be philosophers, politicians,
and gentlemen.
To the ministry I likewise address myself. You, gentlemen, have
studied the ruin of your country, from which it is not within your
abilities to rescue her. Your attempts to recover her are as
ridiculous as your plans which involved her are detestable. The
commissioners, being about to depart, will probably bring you this,
and with it my sixth number, addressed to them; and in so doing they
carry back more Common Sense than they brought, and you likewise will
have more than when you sent them.
Having thus addressed you severally, I conclude by addressing you
collectively. It is a long lane that has no turning. A period of
sixteen years of misconduct and misfortune, is certainly long enough
for any one nation to suffer under; and upon a supposition that war
is not declared between France and you, I beg to place a line of
conduct before you that will easily lead you out of all your
troubles. It has been hinted before, and cannot be too much attended
to.
Suppose America had remained unknown to Europe till the present year,
and that Mr. Banks and Dr. Solander, in another voyage round the
world, had made the first discovery of her, in the same condition
that she is now in, of arts, arms, numbers, and civilization. What, I
ask, in that case, would have been your conduct towards her? For that
will point out what it ought to be now. The problems and their
solutions are equal, and the right line of the one is the parallel of
the other. The question takes in every circumstance that can possibly
arise. It reduces politics to a simple thought, and is moreover a
mode of investigation, in which, while you are studying your interest
the simplicity of the case will cheat you into good temper. You have
nothing to do but to suppose that you have found America, and she
appears found to your hand, and while in the joy of your heart you
stand still to admire her, the path of politics rises straight before
you.
Were I disposed to paint a contrast, I could easily set off what you
have done in the present case, against what you would have done in
that case, and by justly opposing them, conclude a picture that would
make you blush. But, as, when any of the prouder passions are hurt,
it is much better philosophy to let a man slip into a good temper
than to attack him in a bad one, for that reason, therefore, I only
state the case, and leave you to reflect upon it.
To go a little back into politics, it will be found that the true
interest of Britain lay in proposing and promoting the independence
of America immediately after the last peace; for the expense which
Britain had then incurred by defending America as her own dominions,
ought to have shown her the policy and necessity of changing the
style of the country, as the best probable method of preventing
future wars and expense, and the only method by which she could hold
the commerce without the charge of sovereignty. Besides which, the
title which she assumed, of parent country, led to, and pointed out
the propriety, wisdom and advantage of a separation; for, as in
private life, children grow into men, and by setting up for
themselves, extend and secure the interest of the whole family, so in
the settlement of colonies large enough to admit of maturity, the
same policy should be pursued, and the same consequences would
follow. Nothing hurts the affections both of parents and children so
much, as living too closely connected, and keeping up the distinction
too long. Domineering will not do over those, who, by a progress in
life, have become equal in rank to their parents, that is, when they
have families of their own; and though they may conceive themselves
the subjects of their advice, will not suppose them the objects of
their government. I do not, by drawing this parallel, mean to admit
the title of parent country, because, if it is due any where, it is
due to Europe collectively, and the first settlers from England were
driven here by persecution. I mean only to introduce the term for the
sake of policy and to show from your title the line of your interest.
When you saw the state of strength and opulence, and that by her own
industry, which America arrived at, you ought to have advised her to
set up for herself, and proposed an alliance of interest with her,
and in so doing you would have drawn, and that at her own expense,
more real advantage, and more military supplies and assistance, both
of ships and men, than from any weak and wrangling government that
you could exercise over her. In short, had you studied only the
domestic politics of a family, you would have learned how to govern
the state; but, instead of this easy and natural line, you flew out
into every thing which was wild and outrageous, till, by following
the passion and stupidity of the pilot, you wrecked the vessel within
sight of the shore.
Having shown what you ought to have done, I now proceed to show why
it was not done. The caterpillar circle of the court had an interest
to pursue, distinct from, and opposed to yours; for though by the
independence of America and an alliance therewith, the trade would
have continued, if not increased, as in many articles neither country
can go to a better market, and though by defending and protecting
herself, she would have been no expense to you, and consequently your
national charges would have decreased, and your taxes might have been
proportionably lessened thereby; yet the striking off so many places
from the court calendar was put in opposition to the interest of the
nation. The loss of thirteen government ships, with their appendages,
here and in England, is a shocking sound in the ear of a hungry
courtier. Your present king and ministry will be the ruin of you; and
you had better risk a revolution and call a Congress, than be thus
led on from madness to despair, and from despair to ruin. America has
set you the example, and you may follow it and be free.
I now come to the last part, a war with France. This is what no man
in his senses will advise you to, and all good men would wish to
prevent. Whether France will declare war against you, is not for me
in this place to mention, or to hint, even if I knew it; but it must
be madness in you to do it first. The matter is come now to a full
crisis, and peace is easy if willingly set about. Whatever you may
think, France has behaved handsomely to you. She would have been
unjust to herself to have acted otherwise than she did; and having
accepted our offer of alliance she gave you genteel notice of it.
There was nothing in her conduct reserved or indelicate, and while
she announced her determination to support her treaty, she left you
to give the first offence. America, on her part, has exhibited a
character of firmness to the world. Unprepared and unarmed, without
form or government, she, singly opposed a nation that domineered over
half the globe. The greatness of the deed demands respect; and though
you may feel resentment, you are compelled both to wonder and admire.
Here I rest my arguments and finish my address. Such as it is, it is
a gift, and you are welcome. It was always my design to dedicate a
Crisis to you, when the time should come that would properly make it
a Crisis; and when, likewise, I should catch myself in a temper to
write it, and suppose you in a condition to read it. That time has
now arrived, and with it the opportunity for conveyance. For the
commissioners- poor commissioners! having proclaimed, that "yet forty
days and Nineveh shall be overthrown," have waited out the date, and,
discontented with their God, are returning to their gourd. And all
the harm I wish them is, that it may not wither about their ears, and
that they may not make their exit in the belly of a whale.
Common Sense..
PHILADELPHIA, Nov. 21, 1778.
P.S.- Though in the tranquillity of my mind I have concluded with a
laugh, yet I have something to mention to the commissioners, which,
to them, is serious and worthy their attention. Their authority is
derived from an Act of Parliament, which likewise describes and
limits their official powers. Their commission, therefore, is only a
recital, and personal investiture, of those powers, or a nomination
and description of the persons who are to execute them. Had it
contained any thing contrary to, or gone beyond the line of, the
written law from which it is derived, and by which it is bound, it
would, by the English constitution, have been treason in the crown,
and the king been subject to an impeachment. He dared not, therefore,
put in his commission what you have put in your proclamation, that
is, he dared not have authorised you in that commission to burn and
destroy any thing in America. You are both in the act and in the
commission styled commissioners for restoring peace, and the methods
for doing it are there pointed out. Your last proclamation is signed
by you as commissioners under that act. You make Parliament the
patron of its contents. Yet, in the body of it, you insert matters
contrary both to the spirit and letter of the act, and what likewise
your king dared not have put in his commission to you. The state of
things in England, gentlemen, is too ticklish for you to run hazards.
You are accountable to Parliament for the execution of that act
according to the letter of it. Your heads may pay for breaking it,
for you certainly have broke it by exceeding it. And as a friend, who
would wish you to escape the paw of the lion, as well as the belly of
the whale, I civilly hint to you, to keep within compass.
Sir Harry Clinton, strictly speaking, is as accountable as the rest;
for though a general, he is likewise a commissioner, acting under a
superior authority. His first obedience is due to the act; and his
plea of being a general, will not and cannot clear him as a
commissioner, for that would suppose the crown, in its single
capacity, to have a power of dispensing with an Act of Parliament.
Your situation, gentlemen, is nice and critical, and the more so
because England is unsettled. Take heed! Remember the times of
Charles the First! For Laud and Stafford fell by trusting to a hope
like yours.
Having thus shown you the danger of your proclamation, I now show you
the folly of it. The means contradict your design: you threaten to
lay waste, in order to render America a useless acquisition of
alliance to France. I reply, that the more destruction you commit (if
you could do it) the more valuable to France you make that alliance.
You can destroy only houses and goods; and by so doing you increase
our demand upon her for materials and merchandise; for the wants of
one nation, provided it has freedom and credit, naturally produce
riches to the other; and, as you can neither ruin the land nor
prevent the vegetation, you would increase the exportation of our
produce in payment, which would be to her a new fund of wealth. In
short, had you cast about for a plan on purpose to enrich your
enemies, you could not have hit upon a better.