Junius Unmasked Part 5

"The least considerable man among us has an interest equal to the proudest n.o.bleman."--Let.

37.

"When the first original right of the people, from which all laws derive their authority," etc.--Let.

30.

"Those sacred original rights which belonged to them before they were soldiers."--Let. 11.

"For all men being originally equals, no one by birth could have a right to set up his own family in perpetual preference to all others forever, and though himself might deserve some decent degree of honors of his cotemporaries, yet his descendants might be far too unworthy to inherit them. One of the strongest _natural_ proofs of the folly of hereditary right in kings, is, that nature disproves it, otherwise she would not so frequently turn it into ridicule by giving mankind an a.s.s for a lion."

"Those original rights of your subjects, on which all their civil and political liberties depend....

"If the English people should no longer confine their resentment to a submissive representation of their wrongs; if, following the glorious example of their ancestors, they should no longer appeal to the creature of the const.i.tution, but to that high Being who gave them the rights of humanity, whose gifts it were sacrilege to surrender; let me ask you, sir, upon what part of your subjects would you rely for a.s.sistance?"--Address to the king, Let. 35.

While I am upon the subject of king, I will present their views in this place. And I would call attention to the severity of the language:

_Common Sense._

"In England, a king hath little more to do than to make war and give away places, which, in plain terms, is to impoverish the nation and set it together by the ears. A pretty business, indeed, for a man to be allowed eight hundred thousand sterling a year for, and wors.h.i.+ped into the bargain! Of more worth is one honest man to society and in the sight of G.o.d than all the crowned ruffians that ever lived.

"But where, say some, is the king of America? I'll tell you, friend, he reigns above, and doth not make havoc of mankind, like the royal brute of Britain."

_Junius._

"For my own part, far from thinking that the king can do no wrong; far from suffering myself to be deterred or imposed upon by the language of forms; if it were my misfortune to live under the inauspicious reign of a prince, whose whole life was employed in one base, contemptible struggle with the free spirit of his people, or in the _detestable_ endeavor to corrupt their moral principles, I would not scruple to declare to him: 'Sir, you alone are the author of the greatest wrong to your subjects and to yourself.... Has not the strength of the crown, whether influence or prerogative, been uniformly exerted for eleven years together, to support a narrow, pitiful system of government, which defeats itself and answers no one purpose of real power, profit, or personal satisfaction to you?'"--Pref.

"The minister who, by secret corruption, invades the freedom of elections, and the ruffian [meaning the king] who, by open violence, destroys that freedom, are embarked in the same bottom."--Let.

8.

"When Junius observes that kings are ready enough to follow such advice, he does not mean to insinuate that, if the advice of Parliament were good, the king would be so ready to follow it."--Let. 45.

In commenting on the sentence spoken of the king, "_by whose_ NOD ALONE _they were permitted to do anything_," he says: "Here is idolatry even without a mask; and he who can calmly hear and digest such doctrine, hath forfeited his claim to rationality; is an apostate from the order of manhood, and ought to be considered as one who hath not only given up the proper dignity of man, but sunk himself beneath the rank of animals, and contemptibly crawls through the world like a worm.

However, it matters very little now what the king of England either says or does; he hath wickedly broken through every moral and human obligation, trampled nature and conscience under his feet; and, by a steady and unconst.i.tutional spirit of insolence and cruelty, procured for himself an universal hatred."

"There is surely something singularly benevolent in the character of our sovereign. From the moment he ascended the throne, there is no crime of which human nature is capable (and I call upon the recorder to witness it) that has not appeared venial in his sight."--Let. 48.

"I know that man [the king] much better than any of you. _Nature_ intended him only for a good humored fool. A systematical education, with long practice, has made him a consummate hypocrite....

What would have been the triumph of that odious hypocrite and his minions if Wilkes had been defeated? It was not your fault, reverend sir, that he did not enjoy it completely."--Let. 51, to Rev. Mr. Horne.

I shall now give two pa.s.sages from another portion of Mr. Paine's work to parallel with the last two of Junius on the king:

"Good heavens! what volumes of thanks does America owe to Britain! What infinite obligation to the tool that fills with paradoxical vacancy the throne!"--Crisis, iii.

"The connection between vice and meanness is a fit subject for satire, but when the satire is a fact it cuts with the irresistible power of a diamond.

If a Quaker, in defense of his just rights, his property, and the chast.i.ty of his house, takes up a musket he is expelled the meeting; but the present king of England, who seduced and took into keeping a sister of their society, is reverenced and supported by repeated testimonies, while the friendly noodle from whom she was taken, and who is now in this city, continues a drudge in the service of his rival, as if proud of being cuckolded by a creature called a king."--Crisis, iii.

"Though the Kennedies were convicted of a most deliberate and atrocious murder, they still had a claim to the royal mercy. They were saved by the chast.i.ty of their connections. They had a sister; yet it was not her beauty, but the pliancy of her virtue, that recommended her to the king.

"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 who, in the ceremonies of our faith, might give lessons to the great enemy of it, upon different principles, keeps much the same company.

He advertises for patients, collects all the diseases of the heart, and turns a royal palace into an hospital for incurables. A man of honor has no ticket of admission at St. James'. They receive him like a virgin at the Magdalen's--'Go thou and do likewise.'"--Let. 67, to Lord Mansfield.

The above will explain a pa.s.sage in Junius--Let.

56--which is as follows: "You must confess that even Charles the Second would have blushed at that open encouragement, at those eager, meretricious caresses, with which every species of private vice and public prost.i.tution is received at St.

James'."

I will now make a few remarks upon COMMON SENSE. I have introduced a few extracts to show its spirit, scope, and object; and the opinions, principles, language, and style of Mr. Paine. I have also thrown by the side of them the similar characteristics of Junius, but this is not all.

COMMON SENSE was to America what _Junius_ would have been to England if the same success had attended it. There is a _plan_ in COMMON SENSE similar to that of Junius. It opens the new year with a new policy; it begins by a contrast between society and government; it attacks the government and defends the original rights of the people; it a.s.saults the king and his minions; it defends republicanism against royalty; it calls on the people to rebel against the tyrant, to take up arms in their defense, and to establish government upon the natural and original rights of the people. If one will study the two works he will find not only the general plan the same, but even in detail they strikingly correspond; showing the same head to plan, and the same hand to execute.

There is the same language, the same figures of speech, the same wit, the same method of argumentation, the same withering satire, the same appeals to Heaven, and the same bold, proud, unconquerable spirit, in the one as in the other.

If Mr. Paine was Junius, these things would naturally be expected. And it would be expected, also, that having failed to produce the desired effect in England, and all further effort there being at an end, that if Junius lived he would change his base of operations if a favorable opportunity offered, and strike once more for the liberties of the people. Thus the natural order of things leads us to an irresistible conclusion. But in order not to be too hasty we ought to ask: Is there not _one_ fact in the whole life and character of Mr. Paine incompatible with Junius? When it is found I will surrender the argument. But let us proceed.

Nature is prodigal of varieties. No two individuals are alike, either in physical form or mental features. Great differences may be found even among those most resembling each other, but when we find a man prominent among his fellow-kind, it is because of marked characteristics in which he greatly differs from the rest. These characteristics are expressed in action. A record of these actions is the history of men. Faust gives us movable type, and Watt the steam-engine. Newton asks nature to reveal her mode of operation in the movement of matter. Bacon asks her for her method. Buckle inquires after the science of history. Napoleon was a magazine of war. And thus great minds reveal themselves in their own way; and the more striking and peculiar the characteristic, the more easily can we distinguish and describe the person. Mr. Paine was a literary adventurer. And unlike adventurers in conquest or discovery, he left the record of his course as he went along. His was not a path in the sea, nor foot-prints in the sand, but a work like that of Euclid or Laplace, carved out of thought; he called out of chaos a new world of politics; he fought great battles and won victories with the pen. To know the man, then, we must examine his writings. To this end, therefore, I call the reader's attention to his style.

STYLE.

I will first make some concise remarks upon this subject, to aid us in comparing Junius with Mr. Paine; because I propose to show that the style of the one is the style of the other.

Style, by most authors, is treated under the following heads: _Perspicuity_, _Vivacity_, and _Beauty_. Perspicuity, I define, the clear and true expression of our thoughts in the fewest words. Vivacity is the energy or life of expression; it attracts the attention, and excites the imagination. It takes the will by storm and produces conviction. Combined with perspicuity it becomes eloquence. Beauty is the harmony and smoothness of of expression, and is often made synonymous with _elegance_.

The first requisite in style is perspicuity. It is a prevalent notion among the vulgar that clearness of expression leads to dryness and dullness in speaking or writing, owing to the plain garb in which ideas are clothed. But the fact is, the very reverse of this is true, and as the legitimate result.

Words are said to be the signs of ideas, or symbols of thought. But words _spoken_ is thought pa.s.sing in the air; they are ideas in invisible vibrations, and a sound can neither be a sign nor a symbol.

But words written are symbols of thought. Language addresses both the ear and the eye. The true end and aim of language is to make others feel the full force of an idea as it is felt by the speaker. Language must therefore be forever imperfect, and this from the nature of things, or at least till ideas can be silently conveyed upon the waves of some subtle nerve force. Ideas flit from the mind with the rapidity of lightning. To the inward beholder truth becomes visible at times instantaneously. He sees it, he feels it; it fills him with emotions; it struggles for utterance. Truth writhes to get free and become universally, instead of particularly, known and felt. It may be and is felt instantaneously, yet it can not be expressed in words for hours, and perhaps never: certainly never as it should be. Truth rests in the mind, or flutters there in ideal beauty. It requires an artist transcending earthly perfection to breathe it to the ear or throw it out to the eye on canvas. The tongue and hand both fail, the sounds are discordant, and the lines are broken. In the one instance we have a jumble of sounds, and in the other a daub for a picture.

It becomes apparent at once, the more words we use to express thought, the more it is c.u.mbered with technicalities and idiomatic phrases, just so much more gross, and feeble, and uninviting it becomes, because robbed of its ideal beauty. But, on the contrary, if a word or a look or a touch could express it, its beauty, and its power, and its worth would not be thus blemished. Byron would have spoken that word were it lightning. Hence arises the interest and charm in beholding the picture of an artist, where so much is revealed at a glance; for it is thought which is expressed there. Hence, also, it becomes evident that far more can be expressed in a figure of speech, quickly and boldly put, than could be otherwise presented in hours or days. "A single hieroglyphic character," says Champoleon le June, "would probably convey more to the mind of an ancient Egyptian than a quarto page would to a European."

Perspicuity, therefore, is not necessarily devoid of energy or elegance, in fact the only means to secure a clear and concise style is to use the trope--especially in the two forms of metaphor and comparison: observing always that long and labored figures of speech are generally ambiguous, and always have a bad effect. Their beauty, and worth, and power consist in the brevity and clearness with which they are expressed. "The thought expressed in a single line by Chaucer," says Lord Kames, "gives more l.u.s.ter to a young beauty, than the whole of his much labored poem,

"Up rose the sun, and up rose Emilie."

Perspicuity, then, we would consider the very soul of vivacity, and vivacity the soul of eloquence.

The elegance or beauty of expression is of far less consequence, and must often be sacrificed to the very nature of ideas. It can not be said that all ideas are beautiful. There are uncomely and hideous things on earth; there are disagreeable and hateful subjects to be spoken of, and there are painful feelings to be expressed. Language would fail to subserve the end for which it exists, did it not correspond to the sources of thought and the objects to be described; otherwise it would not be language. To be elegant, therefore, at all times, in speaking or writing, involves an absurdity, inasmuch as only a part of our ideas could be expressed were this the case. The simple narration of facts enlightens; elegance soothes and pleases; but vivacity moves to action.

It is the duty of the writer to make his style and language correspond with his subject.

Keeping the foregoing principles in view, the reader may apply such terms to the piece he reads, or the discourse he hears, as may be most fitting. It is thus we speak of concise, diffuse, bold, feeble, nervous, plain, neat, dry, or flowery styles. A full sentence or _period_, as it is called, must therefore have: 1. _Precision_; that is, it must be clear and not ambiguous: 2. _Unity_; that is, it must not have crowded into it different subjects: 3. _Strength_; that is, all unnecessary words must be thrown away, and it must be built with such mechanical skill as will render it the most forcible to the mind: and, 4.

_Harmony_; that is, it must sound with the sense.

For the purpose of an argument, it is immaterial to me whether I have cause to praise or censure the style of Mr. Paine. It is a comparison of the known with the unknown, in which I am about to engage, and it is the _likeness_, not the merits, which I wish to bring out. A good or a bad style would not affect the similarity were either produced by the same hand. But it is a fact worthy of remark, as I am pa.s.sing, that a bad style in writing or speaking, has never produced any marked effect upon the world. It is the nature of great minds to be possessed of clear ideas, and to such minds nature never withholds the gift of purity of diction.

The style of Mr. Paine is as peculiar as the great mind that produced it, and I will describe it to be: _strong, bold, clear, and harmonious_.

The construction of any of his pieces, is like the building of a fine edifice. He never begins without plan and specifications. He builds it in the ideal before he puts it on paper. The reader finds a foundation fit and substantial in the first paragraph, often in the first sentence.

Upon this he finds a superstructure to correspond, which in size and proportions, is neat and artistic, constructed with each separate material of the best kind, and in its proper place, never left without cornice and entablature, so that when taken all together it is most pleasing and useful. He never leaves a period like a broken column, yet a careless vine sometimes winds around it, to attract the mind from its stately proportions, and we have lost the argument in the beauty of the figure. But the effect is momentary. He soon brings us back to the practical and the real. And it is his peculiar beauty, that he does not impose ideas upon us which his language can not convey to the commonest understanding.