Year: 1873

Mr.. James Parton's paper on "The
Presidential election of 1900, in the
Atlantic Alonthly for July, contains the
following picture of Thomas Paine and
his abode in Paris after the American
war (" Mr.. Jeferson's letter found him
the occupant of = little dirty room,
containing a small wooden table and
two chairs An old English friend,
who visited him not long after he re-
eeived If, describes Paine's abode,
which he had much trouble to find, as
being the dirtiest apartment he ever
sat down in. The chimney hearth was
heap of dirt he adds there was
not speck of cleanliness to be seen.
Three shelves We're filled with paste
board boxes, each labeled after the
manner of a minister of foreign affairs,
Correspondence Britannique, Fran
caise, etc. In one corner of the room
stood several huge bars of iron, curiously
shaped, and two large trunks opposite
the fireplace, a board covered with
pamphlets and journals, having more the
appearance of a dresser in a sculleEy
than sideboard. 'The occupant of
this doleful room, then sixty-five years
of age, soon came down stairs dressed
in long flannel gown, and wearing IN
his haggard face an expression of the
deepest melancholy. His conversation
showed that he was in full sympathy
with the little band of Frenchmen
whom BOnaparte had not dazzled out
of their senses. He had dared even to
translate and print Jefferson's inaugural
address, by way of contrast as he
said, with the government of the first
consul. But he had lost all hope of
France. This is not a country he
said, for an honest man to live in ::
they do not understand anything at all
of the principles of free government,
and the best way is TO leave them to
themselves. You see, they have con
quered all Europe only to make it more
miserable than it was before. Repub-
lie! Do you call this a republic
Why, they are worse off than the slaves
at Constantinople for there they ex-
pect to be bashaws in heaven by submit
ting to be slaves here below. But here
they believe neither in heaven nor hell,
and yet are slaves to choice I know
of no republic in the world except
America, which is the only country for
such men as you and me. L have done
Nth Er15.OTNo oy,1 &c g1nrrsg1 ,
He gave his visitor Mr.. JeRerson's let
ter to read, and said he meant soon to
avail himself of its offer. It would
be curious circumstance, he added,
laughing, if I should hereafter be sent
as secretary of legation to the English
court which outlawed me. What a
hubbub it would create at the kings
1eyee to see Tom Paine presented by the
American ambassador All the bish-
ops and women would faint away. His
guest frankly told him that the course
of events had caused him to change his
principles. Paine's answer was, You
certainly have the right to do so but
you cannot after the nature of things.
The French have alarmed all honest
men but still, truth is truth Poor
Panel His errors were, for the most
part, those of his age, and they were
aggravated by his circumstances, his de-
fective education and the ardor of his
temperament. But his merits, which
were real and not small, were peculiarly
his own. He loved the truth for its
own sake; and he stood by what he
conceived to be the truth when all the
the world around him reviled it. That
hasty pamphlet of his which he named
The Age of Reason, written to alleviate
the tedium of his Paris prison, differs
from other deistical works only in being
bolder and honester. It contains not
position which Franklin, John Adams,
Jefferson and Theodore Parker would
have dissented from and, doubtless,
he spoke the truth when he declared
his main purpose in writing it was to
inspire mankind with more exalted
idea of the supreme architect of the
universe. I think his judgment must
have been impaired before he could have
consented to publish so inadequate a
performance. In a remarkably convi-
vial age, he sang a very good song, and
often favored a iovial company, after
dinner, with ditties of his own compost
ton. This ever-welcome talent joined
to the vivacity of mind which naturally
expands itself in agreeable conversation,
made him in his best days the delight
of his circle, and lured him, perhaps,
into habits that prevented his ripening
into happiness and wisdom for no man
can attain welfare who does not obey
the physical laws of its being. 1t be-
comes us, however, to deal charitably
with the faults of benefactor, who
wrote The Crisis and Common Sense,
who conceived the planing-machine and
the iron bridge. A glorious monument
in his honor swells aloft in many of our
great towns. The principle of his arch
now sustains the marvellous railroad de-
pots that half abolish the distinction
between indoors and out.


A Blunder.