Make but the case of others your own, and your own theirs, and you

will then have a clear idea of the whole. Had France acted towards her

colonies as you have done, you would have branded her with every epithet

of abhorrence; and had you, like her, stepped in to succor a struggling

people, all Europe must have echoed with your own applauses. But

entangled in the passion of dispute you see it not as you ought, and

form opinions thereon which suit with no interest but your own. You

wonder that America does not rise in union with you to impose on herself

a portion of your taxes and reduce herself to unconditional submission.

You are amazed that the southern powers of Europe do not assist you

in conquering a country which is afterwards to be turned against

themselves; and that the northern ones do not contribute to reinstate

you in America who already enjoy the market for naval stores by the

separation. You seem surprised that Holland does not pour in her succors

to maintain you mistress of the seas, when her own commerce is suffering

by your act of navigation; or that any country should study her own

interest while yours is on the carpet.

Such excesses of passionate folly, and unjust as well as unwise

resentment, have driven you on, like Pharaoh, to unpitied miseries, and

while the importance of the quarrel shall perpetuate your disgrace, the

flag of America will carry it round the world. The natural feelings of

every rational being will be against you, and wherever the story shall

be told, you will have neither excuse nor consolation left. With an

unsparing hand, and an insatiable mind, you have desolated the world,

to gain dominion and to lose it; and while, in a frenzy of avarice and

ambition, the east and the west are doomed to tributary bondage, you

rapidly earned destruction as the wages of a nation.

At the thoughts of a war at home, every man amongst you ought to

tremble. The prospect is far more dreadful there than in America. Here

the party that was against the measures of the continent were in general

composed of a kind of neutrals, who added strength to neither army.

There does not exist a being so devoid of sense and sentiment as to

covet "unconditional submission," and therefore no man in America could

be with you in principle. Several might from a cowardice of mind, prefer

it to the hardships and dangers of opposing it; but the same disposition

that gave them such a choice, unfitted them to act either for or against

us. But England is rent into parties, with equal shares of resolution.

The principle which produced the war divides the nation. Their

animosities are in the highest state of fermentation, and both sides, by

a call of the militia, are in arms. No human foresight can discern, no

conclusion can be formed, what turn a war might take, if once set on

foot by an invasion. She is not now in a fit disposition to make a

common cause of her own affairs, and having no conquests to hope for

abroad, and nothing but expenses arising at home, her everything is

staked upon a defensive combat, and the further she goes the worse she

is off.

There are situations that a nation may be in, in which peace or war,

abstracted from every other consideration, may be politically right or

wrong. When nothing can be lost by a war, but what must be lost without

it, war is then the policy of that country; and such was the situation

of America at the commencement of hostilities: but when no security can

be gained by a war, but what may be accomplished by a peace, the case

becomes reversed, and such now is the situation of England.

That America is beyond the reach of conquest, is a fact which experience

has shown and time confirmed, and this admitted, what, I ask, is now the

object of contention? If there be any honor in pursuing self-destruction

with inflexible passion--if national suicide be the perfection of

national glory, you may, with all the pride of criminal happiness,

expire unenvied and unrivalled. But when the tumult of war shall cease,

and the tempest of present passions be succeeded by calm reflection, or

when those, who, surviving its fury, shall inherit from you a legacy

of debts and misfortunes, when the yearly revenue scarcely be able to

discharge the interest of the one, and no possible remedy be left for

the other, ideas far different from the present will arise, and embitter

the remembrance of former follies. A mind disarmed of its rage feels no

pleasure in contemplating a frantic quarrel. Sickness of thought, the

sure consequence of conduct like yours, leaves no ability for enjoyment,

no relish for resentment; and though, like a man in a fit, you feel

not the injury of the struggle, nor distinguish between strength and

disease, the weakness will nevertheless be proportioned to the violence,

and the sense of pain increase with the recovery.

To what persons or to whose system of politics you owe your present

state of wretchedness, is a matter of total indifference to America.

They have contributed, however unwillingly, to set her above themselves,

and she, in the tranquillity of conquest, resigns the inquiry. The case

now is not so properly who began the war, as who continues it. That

there are men in all countries to whom a state of war is a mine of

wealth, is a fact never to be doubted. Characters like these naturally

breed in the putrefaction of distempered times, and after fattening

on the disease, they perish with it, or, impregnated with the stench,

retreat into obscurity.

But there are several erroneous notions to which you likewise owe a

share of your misfortunes, and which, if continued, will only increase

your trouble and your losses. An opinion hangs about the gentlemen

of the minority, that America would relish measures under their

administration, which she would not from the present cabinet. On this

rock Lord Chatham would have split had he gained the helm, and several

of his survivors are steering the same course. Such distinctions in

the infancy of the argument had some degree of foundation, but they now

serve no other purpose than to lengthen out a war, in which the limits

of a dispute, being fixed by the fate of arms, and guaranteed by

treaties, are not to be changed or altered by trivial circumstances.

The ministry, and many of the minority, sacrifice their time in

disputing on a question with which they have nothing to do, namely,

whether America shall be independent or not. Whereas the only question

that can come under their determination is, whether they will accede to

it or not. They confound a military question with a political one, and

undertake to supply by a vote what they lost by a battle. Say she shall

not be independent, and it will signify as much as if they voted

against a decree of fate, or say that she shall, and she will be no more

independent than before. Questions which, when determined, cannot be

executed, serve only to show the folly of dispute and the weakness of

disputants.

From a long habit of calling America your own, you suppose her governed

by the same prejudices and conceits which govern yourselves. Because you

have set up a particular denomination of religion to the exclusion of

all others, you imagine she must do the same, and because you, with an

unsociable narrowness of mind, have cherished enmity against France and

Spain, you suppose her alliance must be defective in friendship.

Copying her notions of the world from you, she formerly thought as you

instructed, but now feeling herself free, and the prejudice removed, she

thinks and acts upon a different system. It frequently happens that

in proportion as we are taught to dislike persons and countries, not

knowing why, we feel an ardor of esteem upon the removal of the mistake:

it seems as if something was to be made amends for, and we eagerly give

in to every office of friendship, to atone for the injury of the error.

But, perhaps, there is something in the extent of countries, which,

among the generality of people, insensibly communicates extension of the

mind. The soul of an islander, in its native state, seems bounded by

the foggy confines of the water's edge, and all beyond affords to him

matters only for profit or curiosity, not for friendship. His island

is to him his world, and fixed to that, his every thing centers in it;

while those who are inhabitants of a continent, by casting their eye

over a larger field, take in likewise a larger intellectual circuit,

and thus approaching nearer to an acquaintance with the universe, their

atmosphere of thought is extended, and their liberality fills a wider

space. In short, our minds seem to be measured by countries when we are

men, as they are by places when we are children, and until something

happens to disentangle us from the prejudice, we serve under it without

perceiving it.

In addition to this, it may be remarked, that men who study any

universal science, the principles of which are universally known, or

admitted, and applied without distinction to the common benefit of all

countries, obtain thereby a larger share of philanthropy than those

who only study national arts and improvements. Natural philosophy,

mathematics and astronomy, carry the mind from the country to the

creation, and give it a fitness suited to the extent. It was not

Newton's honor, neither could it be his pride, that he was an

Englishman, but that he was a philosopher, the heavens had liberated him

from the prejudices of an island, and science had expanded his soul as

boundless as his studies.

COMMON SENSE.

PHILADELPHIA, March, 1780.

THE CRISIS IX. (HAD AMERICA PURSUED HER ADVANTAGES)

HAD America pursued her advantages with half the spirit that she

resisted her misfortunes, she would, before now, have been a conquering

and a peaceful people; but lulled in the lap of soft tranquillity, she

rested on her hopes, and adversity only has convulsed her into action.

Whether subtlety or sincerity at the close of the last year induced the

enemy to an appearance for peace, is a point not material to know; it is

sufficient that we see the effects it has had on our politics, and that

we sternly rise to resent the delusion.

The war, on the part of America, has been a war of natural feelings.

Brave in distress; serene in conquest; drowsy while at rest; and in

every situation generously disposed to peace; a dangerous calm, and

a most heightened zeal have, as circumstances varied, succeeded each

other. Every passion but that of despair has been called to a tour

of duty; and so mistaken has been the enemy, of our abilities

and disposition, that when she supposed us conquered, we rose the

conquerors. The extensiveness of the United States, and the variety of

their resources; the universality of their cause, the quick operation of

their feelings, and the similarity of their sentiments, have, in every

trying situation, produced a something, which, favored by providence,

and pursued with ardor, has accomplished in an instant the business of

a campaign. We have never deliberately sought victory, but snatched it;

and bravely undone in an hour the blotted operations of a season.

The reported fate of Charleston, like the misfortunes of 1776, has at

last called forth a spirit, and kindled up a flame, which perhaps

no other event could have produced. If the enemy has circulated a

falsehood, they have unwisely aggravated us into life, and if they have

told us the truth, they have unintentionally done us a service. We were

returning with folded arms from the fatigues of war, and thinking and

sitting leisurely down to enjoy repose. The dependence that has been

put upon Charleston threw a drowsiness over America. We looked on the

business done--the conflict over--the matter settled--or that all which

remained unfinished would follow of itself. In this state of dangerous

relaxation, exposed to the poisonous infusions of the enemy, and having

no common danger to attract our attention, we were extinguishing, by

stages, the ardor we began with, and surrendering by piece-meal the

virtue that defended us.

Afflicting as the loss of Charleston may be, yet if it universally rouse

us from the slumber of twelve months past, and renew in us the spirit of

former days, it will produce an advantage more important than its loss.

America ever is what she thinks herself to be. Governed by sentiment,

and acting her own mind, she becomes, as she pleases, the victor or the

victim.

It is not the conquest of towns, nor the accidental capture of

garrisons, that can reduce a country so extensive as this. The

sufferings of one part can never be relieved by the exertions of

another, and there is no situation the enemy can be placed in that does

not afford to us the same advantages which he seeks himself. By dividing

his force, he leaves every post attackable. It is a mode of war that

carries with it a confession of weakness, and goes on the principle of

distress rather than conquest.

The decline of the enemy is visible, not only in their operations, but

in their plans; Charleston originally made but a secondary object in the

system of attack, and it is now become their principal one, because

they have not been able to succeed elsewhere. It would have carried a

cowardly appearance in Europe had they formed their grand expedition, in

1776, against a part of the continent where there was no army, or not

a sufficient one to oppose them; but failing year after year in their

impressions here, and to the eastward and northward, they deserted their

capital design, and prudently contenting themselves with what they can

get, give a flourish of honor to conceal disgrace.

But this piece-meal work is not conquering the continent. It is a

discredit in them to attempt it, and in us to suffer it. It is now full

time to put an end to a war of aggravations, which, on one side, has

no possible object, and on the other has every inducement which honor,

interest, safety and happiness can inspire. If we suffer them much

longer to remain among us, we shall become as bad as themselves.

An association of vice will reduce us more than the sword. A nation

hardened in the practice of iniquity knows better how to profit by it,

than a young country newly corrupted. We are not a match for them in the

line of advantageous guilt, nor they for us on the principles which we

bravely set out with. Our first days were our days of honor. They have

marked the character of America wherever the story of her wars are told;

and convinced of this, we have nothing to do but wisely and unitedly to

tread the well known track. The progress of a war is often as ruinous

to individuals, as the issue of it is to a nation; and it is not only

necessary that our forces be such that we be conquerors in the end,

but that by timely exertions we be secure in the interim. The present

campaign will afford an opportunity which has never presented itself

before, and the preparations for it are equally necessary, whether

Charleston stand or fall. Suppose the first, it is in that case only

a failure of the enemy, not a defeat. All the conquest that a besieged

town can hope for, is, not to be conquered; and compelling an enemy

to raise the siege, is to the besieged a victory. But there must be

a probability amounting almost to a certainty, that would justify a

garrison marching out to attack a retreat. Therefore should Charleston

not be taken, and the enemy abandon the siege, every other part of the

continent should prepare to meet them; and, on the contrary, should it

be taken, the same preparations are necessary to balance the loss, and

put ourselves in a position to co-operate with our allies, immediately

on their arrival.

We are not now fighting our battles alone, as we were in 1776; England,

from a malicious disposition to America, has not only not declared war

against France and Spain, but, the better to prosecute her passions

here, has afforded those powers no military object, and avoids them,

to distress us. She will suffer her West India islands to be overrun by

France, and her southern settlements to be taken by Spain, rather than

quit the object that gratifies her revenge. This conduct, on the part

of Britain, has pointed out the propriety of France sending a naval and

land force to co-operate with America on the spot. Their arrival cannot

be very distant, nor the ravages of the enemy long. The recruiting the

army, and procuring the supplies, are the two things most necessary to

be accomplished, and a capture of either of the enemy's divisions will

restore to America peace and plenty.

At a crisis, big, like the present, with expectation and events, the

whole country is called to unanimity and exertion. Not an ability ought

now to sleep, that can produce but a mite to the general good, nor even

a whisper to pass that militates against it. The necessity of the case,

and the importance of the consequences, admit no delay from a friend,

no apology from an enemy. To spare now, would be the height of

extravagance, and to consult present ease, would be to sacrifice it

perhaps forever.

America, rich in patriotism and produce, can want neither men nor

supplies, when a serious necessity calls them forth. The slow

operation of taxes, owing to the extensiveness of collection, and their

depreciated value before they arrived in the treasury, have, in many

instances, thrown a burden upon government, which has been artfully

interpreted by the enemy into a general decline throughout the

country. Yet this, inconvenient as it may at first appear, is not only

remediable, but may be turned to an immediate advantage; for it makes no

real difference, whether a certain number of men, or company of militia

(and in this country every man is a militia-man), are directed by law

to send a recruit at their own expense, or whether a tax is laid on them

for that purpose, and the man hired by government afterwards. The first,

if there is any difference, is both cheapest and best, because it saves

the expense which would attend collecting it as a tax, and brings the

man sooner into the field than the modes of recruiting formerly used;

and, on this principle, a law has been passed in this state, for

recruiting two men from each company of militia, which will add upwards

of a thousand to the force of the country.

But the flame which has broken forth in this city since the report from

New York, of the loss of Charleston, not only does honor to the place,

but, like the blaze of 1776, will kindle into action the scattered

sparks throughout America. The valor of a country may be learned by the

bravery of its soldiery, and the general cast of its inhabitants, but

confidence of success is best discovered by the active measures pursued

by men of property; and when the spirit of enterprise becomes so

universal as to act at once on all ranks of men, a war may then, and not

till then, be styled truly popular.

In 1776, the ardor of the enterprising part was considerably checked by

the real revolt of some, and the coolness of others. But in the present

case, there is a firmness in the substance and property of the country

to the public cause. An association has been entered into by

the merchants, tradesmen, and principal inhabitants of the city

[Philadelphia], to receive and support the new state money at the value

of gold and silver; a measure which, while it does them honor, will

likewise contribute to their interest, by rendering the operations of

the campaign convenient and effectual.

Nor has the spirit of exertion stopped here. A voluntary subscription is

likewise begun, to raise a fund of hard money, to be given as bounties,

to fill up the full quota of the Pennsylvania line. It has been the

remark of the enemy, that every thing in America has been done by the

force of government; but when she sees individuals throwing in their

voluntary aid, and facilitating the public measures in concert with the

established powers of the country, it will convince her that the cause

of America stands not on the will of a few but on the broad foundation

of property and popularity.

Thus aided and thus supported, disaffection will decline, and the

withered head of tyranny expire in America. The ravages of the enemy

will be short and limited, and like all their former ones, will produce

a victory over themselves.

COMMON SENSE.

PHILADELPHIA, June 9, 1780.

P. S. At the time of writing this number of the Crisis, the loss of

Charleston, though believed by some, was more confidently disbelieved

by others. But there ought to be no longer a doubt upon the matter.

Charleston is gone, and I believe for the want of a sufficient supply of

provisions. The man that does not now feel for the honor of the best

and noblest cause that ever a country engaged in, and exert himself

accordingly, is no longer worthy of a peaceable residence among a people

determined to be free.

C. S.

THE CRISIS EXTRAORDINARY

ON THE SUBJECT OF TAXATION.

IT IS impossible to sit down and think seriously on the affairs of

America, but the original principles upon which she resisted, and

the glow and ardor which they inspired, will occur like the undefaced

remembrance of a lovely scene. To trace over in imagination the purity

of the cause, the voluntary sacrifices that were made to support it,

and all the various turnings of the war in its defence, is at once both

paying and receiving respect. The principles deserve to be remembered,

and to remember them rightly is repossessing them. In this indulgence

of generous recollection, we become gainers by what we seem to give, and

the more we bestow the richer we become.

So extensively right was the ground on which America proceeded, that it

not only took in every just and liberal sentiment which could impress

the heart, but made it the direct interest of every class and order

of men to defend the country. The war, on the part of Britain, was

originally a war of covetousness. The sordid and not the splendid

passions gave it being. The fertile fields and prosperous infancy of

America appeared to her as mines for tributary wealth. She viewed the

hive, and disregarding the industry that had enriched it, thirsted for

the honey. But in the present stage of her affairs, the violence of

temper is added to the rage of avarice; and therefore, that which at

the first setting out proceeded from purity of principle and public

interest, is now heightened by all the obligations of necessity; for it

requires but little knowledge of human nature to discern what would

be the consequence, were America again reduced to the subjection of

Britain. Uncontrolled power, in the hands of an incensed, imperious, and

rapacious conqueror, is an engine of dreadful execution, and woe be to

that country over which it can be exercised. The names of Whig and Tory

would then be sunk in the general term of rebel, and the oppression,

whatever it might be, would, with very few instances of exception, light

equally on all.

Britain did not go to war with America for the sake of dominion, because

she was then in possession; neither was it for the extension of trade

and commerce, because she had monopolized the whole, and the country

had yielded to it; neither was it to extinguish what she might call

rebellion, because before she began no resistance existed. It could then

be from no other motive than avarice, or a design of establishing, in

the first instance, the same taxes in America as are paid in England

(which, as I shall presently show, are above eleven times heavier than

the taxes we now pay for the present year, 1780) or, in the second

instance, to confiscate the whole property of America, in case of

resistance and conquest of the latter, of which she had then no doubt.

I shall now proceed to show what the taxes in England are, and what

the yearly expense of the present war is to her--what the taxes of

this country amount to, and what the annual expense of defending it

effectually will be to us; and shall endeavor concisely to point out

the cause of our difficulties, and the advantages on one side, and the

consequences on the other, in case we do, or do not, put ourselves in

an effectual state of defence. I mean to be open, candid, and sincere.

I see a universal wish to expel the enemy from the country, a murmuring

because the war is not carried on with more vigor, and my intention is

to show, as shortly as possible, both the reason and the remedy.

The number of souls in England (exclusive of Scotland and Ireland) is

seven millions,* and the number of souls in America is three millions.

* This is taking the highest number that the people of England have

been, or can be rated at.

The Writings of Thomas Paine — Volume 1 (1774-1779): The American Crisis · 第 11 / 18 段