New-York tribune (New York [N.Y.]), July 31, 1892
The Life of Thomas Paine. With a History of his Literary, Political and Religious Career in America, France and England. By Moncure Daniel Conway. In Two Volumes. 8vo, pp. xvi-690 and 487. G. P. Putnam’s Sons.
It is a curious fact, but it is a fact, that Mr. Conway’s life of Thomas Paine is the first real biography of him that has been written. So-called lives of him are extant, but not one of them is trustworthy, and several of them are, in the main, monstrous and malignant fictions. The very worst is that of Cheetham, but even Rickman’s, which was written by a friend and an admirer, errs only less seriously on the side of indiscriminating eulogy. There is in all these old biographies of Paine a certain resemblance to the portraits of Fox, Burke, Byron, and many other men and women whose lives have been the battle-ground of the contending factions of their own day. Men did not judge them by what they did or said of intrinsic obligation, but by their relation to political and religious ideas. Each side exalted or denounced according to the degree in which the subject of criticism represented its own principles.
Paine, while living, was, in consequence, the victim of extreme estimates. Some men regarded him as a benefactor of mankind; others as a monster of impiety and sedition. Their estimate of the man was largely affected by their views upon the doctrines he taught. It has been a part of Paine’s unhappy destiny that the calumnies of his enemies should have formed public opinion concerning him; nor has any serious attempt been made, until Mr. Conway took the work in hand, to get at the historical truth of the matter, and to put Paine before the world as he really was.
Mr. Conway reminds us that historians of reputation have quite recently endorsed the old slanders on Paine, rather than go to the trouble of ascertaining the truth. One of them not long ago referred to the author of Common Sense as a “filthy little atheist.” Now this characterization reminds us of the story about Cuvier and the crab. A lexicographer submitted to the great naturalist this definition of a crab: “A small red fish which walks backward.” Cuvier observed that the definition was correct save in three particulars. “The crab,” said he, “is not red; it is not a fish, and it does not walk backward.” So it may be said of the characterization of Paine. He was not filthy, he was not little, and he was not an atheist. On neither of these points can there any longer be the slightest room for controversy. But it deserves to be said, in excuse for the erroneous views so long and so generally entertained concerning Paine’s career and character, that Mr. Conway has had a very difficult task to perform. No praise can be too high, indeed, for the perseverance and industry with which he has thrown himself into the work, the patience with which he has followed obscure clues, mined in government archives, and utilized every scrap of attainable information. Fault may be found perhaps with his spirit, at times, but there is no probability that, after this thorough inquest, any new light will be thrown upon the subject.
Thomas Paine did not owe all his misfortunes to the malice of enemies or the apathy of friends. It is clear enough that with all his political and financial ability he had not the capacity wisely to administer his own affairs: wisely, that is, according to purely worldly standards. He might have laid the foundations of a handsome fortune with the profits of his great pamphlet Common Sense, but he chose to make a virtual gift of it to his country.
The result was that after more than two hundred thousand copies had been sold, he found himself indebted to the publisher. He did not understand human nature, or he would have known better than to put dependence upon public gratitude. He really believed that it was unnecessary to make any provision for his own future, for that the people he had helped to save would take care of him.
What must have been the thoughts of Washington’s friend and companion at Valley Forge when, a few years after “the time that tried men’s souls,” he found himself hooted and pelted in the very vicinity of Trenton?
If you’d like, I can continue with the next section beginning “It has been said that Paine was after all only a pamphleteer…” and proceed through the remainder of the article exactly as printed.
It has been said that Paine was after all only a pamphleteer. If so, he was the greatest pamphleteer who ever lived, for there can be no question that during the War of Independence his writings influenced and controlled the direction of events more than any other one thing. The Congress was content to take its cue from the latest Crisis, and once at least, when public opinion was greatly exercised over Washington’s Philadelphia failures and the general slowness of his movement, Paine alone stopped an organized effort to procure the removal of the Commander-in-Chief. Washington esteemed and admired him greatly, and declared later that he had contributed as much as any man to the successful issue of the war. Why was it, then, when every influence seemed propitious, when apparently there was nothing to prevent the name of Thomas Paine from going down to history side by side with those of Washington and Jefferson, Madison and Monroe—he should have missed his opportunities as he did?
His unworldly temperament no doubt counted for very much in his failure. A more unselfish man never breathed. His enthusiasm and devotion were for great principles and for the advancement of humanity. It is an imperishable honor to his memory that almost his first utterance in America was a protest against slavery. Whether Mr. Conway is right in his conjecture that Paine wrote the rejected anti-slavery article for the Constitution, and the view taken in these volumes is after all only speculative, it certainly would have been just like him. This also would have illustrated his carelessness of his personal interests, for slavery even then was a vested interest, and not to be attacked with impunity. Even Washington found it too strong to be defied, and yielded his own convictions regarding it for the sake of harmony. But Paine had no worldly prudence. Wherever he saw a wrong he attacked it, and he let the consequences take care of themselves. Of course this made him enemies, and tended to blight his career, but that career might be described as a career of making and then throwing away brilliant opportunities. In refusing to take any office he put obstacles in his own path, and as his optimistic ideas of popular gratitude proved baseless, he was forced presently to make applications for help to his friends in power, which were humiliating and inconsistent with his avowed principles.
He went to France very heavily handicapped by his ignorance of the language. But he had time enough to have learned it during the years of his residence in the country, and why he did not do so is a mystery upon which Mr. Conway throws no light. True to himself he exerted all his energies on behalf of humanity during the earlier part of the Revolution. He tried to save the King. He tried to save the Girondins. There is much obscurity in the history of his relations with Robespierre, whom he always regarded as his enemy, to whom he ascribed his imprisonment—yet who did not bring him to the guillotine. It is true that an order for Paine’s trial (which was equivalent to sentence of death) was found among Robespierre’s papers after his death. It is doubtful what measures of faith can be put in the legend about Paine’s escape from the guillotine through the device of marking his door on the wrong side. Perhaps Mr. Conway may be right in his conjecture that Robespierre was governed by what he thought the wishes of the American Government, which he wished to satisfy. But if that be true it heightens the responsibility of Gouverneur Morris, whose accountability for the retention of Paine in prison appears to be put beyond serious dispute.
Mr. Conway, however, extends his theory of Morris’s part in what he calls the “conspiracy” against Paine somewhat farther than the established facts warrant. There was active ill-will. There was suppression of at least one of Paine’s letters, and the suppression of that letter in all probability destroyed the long friendship between Washington and Paine. But after all Mr. Conway’s researches one feels that he has not got to the bottom of this strange case. When the discussion is closed it is still impossible to understand Washington’s attitude in the circumstances. Morris may have withheld information, may have misstated facts, but surely it was Washington’s duty to institute an official and thorough inquiry into the case. That he did not attempt this is unpleasant, and no explanation of his passivity is forthcoming that seems to meet the requirements of the situation. The moment Monroe demanded the release of Paine the prison doors flew open; which shows that the French Government had been waiting for its cue from Washington.
We are inclined to suspect that in all this foggy story of intrigue and conspiracy Mr. Conway allows too little weight to Paine’s vanity, which constantly led him to assume an amount of importance not conceded to him, as a rule, by the majority of his contemporaries. Of the greatness of his services and the brilliancy of his talents there ought not to be two opinions; but his self-esteem was counterbalanced by the unworldliness which led him to relegate his personal interests to the second rank, and one consequence of this was that men of the world were apt to regard him as a “crank.” It was, however, not possible for the author of The Rights of Man and The Age of Reason to avoid persecution or to live a happy life.
Of the last-named work Mr. Conway furnishes an elaborate analysis. It is sufficient to say that the charge of atheism, so long and obstinately preferred against Paine, falls to the ground completely under a bare statement of his own language; and that there is in his negative attacks upon the false accretions of Christianity nothing to be compared for a moment with those infinitely more serious positions of the Dutch and German schools which caused so much controversy early in the century.
Thomas Paine was in no sense an atheist. He was a pronounced Deist, and he wrote in favor of Christian reform of a character which has been proceeding ever since his time. Why he was attacked so ferociously was because he was both a political and a religious reformer, and the enemies he made on either side united against him. The British Government hated him for the Rights of Man, and stirred up the clergy to pursue him for The Age of Reason; and the coincidence of political, governmental and ecclesiastical rancor produced an onslaught in which all idea of equity, veracity and self-respect was cast to the winds, and a Paine legend was invented which has, for nearly a hundred years, misguided opinion.
A highly interesting chapter is devoted by Mr. Conway to Paine’s personality, and to examination of the calumnies invented against the philosopher. The old view of Tom Paine is that of a dirty, drunken, immoral wretch, whose tongue was set on fire of hell, and who lived only to do as much devilish mischief as possible. Candid and impartial inquiry shows that this view is purely fabulous. A mass of evidence is adduced proving that Paine lived a cleanly life; that he dressed and comported himself as a gentleman; that he was temperate in his habits, drinking really less than the average man of his time; that his manners were courtly and polished; that men of the highest mark, intellectually and socially, courted his society. Nor is this all.
It is seen that he was perfectly consistent in his life. His philanthropy was genuine. It was his rule of life. He was always helping the distressed at his own expense. He cared nothing for his own comfort. Luxury he would not have. Had he been what is called a prudent manager, he might have secured a decent provision in his old age. But his benevolence exposed him to the machinations of scoundrels, and he knew not how to defend himself. Considering the treatment he experienced at the hands of his countrymen during his last years, there would have been some excuse for him had the bitterness of his soul tempted him to some excesses. But while his heart was breaking, he retained his self-respect, and lived decorously and simply. Mr. Conway’s book is well and honestly done. In a work of vindication, such as this unavoidably is, it is difficult, perhaps impossible, to avoid some appearance of partiality. Yet we discern little of this in these volumes. Paine certainly appears transfigured—but it is the exhibition of the truth which transfigures him. The life of such a man is full of pathos, as is the case with all reformers and all who seek to be benefactors of their kind; and the less worldly such a man is, the more fiercely will the world turn upon and rend him.