The dedication of Thomas Paine to rational thought and inquiry was unparalleled amongst the Founders.¹ His commitment to a strictly rational regimen was particularly notable, and fraught, on the religious front.² 

In Paine’s view, organized religions marketed unreliable hearsay piled on hearsay as “revelations” that are, by definition, based on faith rather than evidence.³ Carefully observing nature, he rejected nearly everything propounded by organized religions as antithetical to rational analysis, retaining from Biblical accounts only what was discernable through observation.⁴ 

Restricting his mental diet to reason did not make him an atheist. To the contrary, Paine concluded that “reason can discover” the “existence of God.” Articulating his thought process, Paine first observed that nothing can make itself. He then noted that many things do exist such that those things were undeniably made. Articulating his thought process, Paine first observed that nothing can make itself. He then noted that many things do exist and, therefore, were undeniably made. Rounding out that syllogism, Paine reasoned that there must be “a power superior to all those things, and that power is God.”⁵ 

Related declarations are more difficult to square with his allegiance to reason. Paine expressed absolute confidence that “Providence” actively intervened to protect not just America but Paine himself. By contrast to his express articulation of why, logically, existence of a Deity comported with reason, his surviving writings disclose no hint of a rationale for believing in an intervening Providence.⁶ More puzzling, when he referenced gender regarding Providence, he identified Providence as female, never as male. Like his expressed belief in an intervening Providence, those identifications appear in his writings as unexplained givens.⁷ 

Two separate but intertwined mysteries are implicated. How could Paine reconcile a belief in an intervening Providence with his dedication to rational inquiry? Why did Paine, uniquely among the Founders and other contemporaries, identify Providence as female? That both mysteries ultimately resist resolution should not surprise Paine aficionados given how much is unknowable regarding Paine, primarily due to an 1830s fire that consumed many of his papers.⁸ What may surprise is that, on the unknowable subject of Providence, Paine conveyed definitive conclusions with utter confidence and calmness and without any explanations, rational or otherwise. 

Paine vigorously pursued rational inquiry as far as it would take him—farther than some contemporaries preferred—insisting that societal systems incapable of withstanding rational inquiry should be abandoned. But remarks about the limits of human capabilities and his persistent optimism in the face of frequent adversity suggest that, when faced with the inexplicable, Paine was neither frustrated nor sought to flog the inexplicable into submission.⁹ 

John Keats contended that creativity in people “of Achievement” is opened to new and fruitful frontiers by embracing “uncertainties, Mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact & reason.”¹⁰ Paine knew nothing about Keats, having died in 1809 when Keats was only thirteen. But conceivably Paine, despite or even because of his dedication to reason, would have appreciated this concept of “Negative Capability” developed by Keats in 1817.¹¹ 

The boundary between the rational and the inexplicable is individual for each human and shifts over time and societal developments with no bright line demarking that boundary. With Keats applying his deeply probing mind to poetical expression, for example, while Paine applied his to clear and rational thinking and writing, they would have encountered dramatically differing locations. But when they each individually faced what they respectively deemed the inexplicable, it is conceivable that their responses may have paralleled. 

Did Paine refrain, in those circumstances, from “irritable reaching after fact & reason”— with irritable being the key word— and, encouraging his sense of wonder to flourish, allow deeper and unexpected insights to come his way?¹² If so, Paine may well have experienced, as Keats expressed elsewhere, “‘the intense pleasure of not knowing’” on those occasions when Paine’s pursuit of rational inquiry left significant questions unanswered and unknowable.¹³ Exploring the two mysteries posed here may provide keys to appreciating the complicated force that was Thomas Paine and, more generally, the limitations of rational inquiry and contemplation of the inexplicable that each human must address within their own mind. 

INTERVENING PROVIDENCE AND RATIONAL INQUIRY 

In America during the Revolutionary Era, belief in an intervening Providence was nearly universal.¹⁴ Contemporaries belonging to Calvinist sects, like Samuel Adams, John Jay and John Witherspoon, were certain that Providence as a manifestation of the male God intervening regularly in human affairs in ways that comported with Biblical texts, which were literally the Word of God.¹⁵ Deist Founders filtered their beliefs in an intervening Providence through rational inquiry.¹⁶ Because Paine was more obsessively dedicated to reason than other Deist Founders, his belief in an intervening Providence is notable.¹⁷ His assumption that Providence directly intervened to protect him personally was most explicitly expressed when, after returning to America, he lambasted Federalists for attacking him. He questioned why they didn’t also attack Providence for having protected Paine “in all his dangers, patronized him in all his undertaking, encouraged him in all his ways, and rewarded him at last by bringing him in safety and in health to the Promised Land.”¹⁸ 

Terrific satire and intentionally over-the-top. But could Paine reason his way to a belief that a supernatural force directly intervened to protect him, as an individual, from harm? Paine firmly rejected the concept of guardian angels, expressly criticizing Quaker pacifists in 1775 by declaring that “we live not in a world of angels” and that we cannot “expect to be defended by miracles.”¹⁹ His Age of Reason more thoroughly eviscerated the concept of miracles.²⁰ Yet he believed in an intervening Providence. Is the answer that Paine was, as George Bernard Shaw said of Joan of Arc, a visionary who was “mentally excessive”?²¹ 

Reconciling Paine’s references to Providence with his overarching commitment to reason would be easier if one accepted the view of an unsympathetic commentator that Paine employed mere rhetorical flourishes insincerely manufactured to persuade readers by exploiting their religious beliefs.²² That commentator’s theory falls apart when one recognizes that he restricted analysis to Paine’s early American writings, ignoring Paine having repeatedly invoked Providence from 1775 through 1803 and even doing so on an occasion when manipulative motives made no sense—a private letter to Franklin.²³ Aldridge, more convincingly, cited Paine’s invocation of an intervening Providence in that letter to Franklin as evidence Paine had “a firm belief in the doctrine of special providence.”²⁴ Paine’s surviving writings confirm that he was sincere in invoking an intervening Providence. 

Teasing out explanations for the apparent disparity in Paine’s thinking between an unyielding devotion to reason and a belief in an intervening supernatural force was furthered through Matthew Stewart’s superb book Nature’s God. Although Stewart did not expressly address Paine’s views on Providence, he carefully studied views of the Deist Founders in contrast to earlier religious beliefs in England and the colonies and observed that the very idea of Providence was transformed by the Deists.²⁵

Some contemporaries of Paine, for example, took the Bible literally and believed that Providence caused many events contrary to laws of nature, such as the Biblical stories of the Sun standing still in the sky for a full day or the Red Sea parting. For example, that “the Bible was divinely revealed and that its miracles were valid were accepted by Samuel Adams “without question.”²⁶ By contrast, for “the deists, a miracle by definition constituted an infraction of the regular and predictable operations of physical reality.”²⁷ 

Deists generally viewed Providence as causing only events that, while improbable, fully complied with the laws of nature.²⁸ Washington attributed his survival from multiple bullets hitting his coat to the intervention of Providence.²⁹ Improbable but feasible under the laws of nature. Paine attributed his survival during the Jacobin reign to an intervening Providence.³⁰ Improbable but well within the laws of nature. The intervention of Providence, viewed in this way, comports closely with Giordano Bruno’s view that Providence does not override “the operation of nature” and can instead “be explained in terms of natural laws.”³¹ 

Deists were, by nature, individualist and unconfined by a fixed set of creeds mandated by a hierarchical church structure. As a result, their beliefs regarding God and Providence varied. Franklin straddled the fence between Deism and other belief systems and remained governed, due to his Puritan upbringing, by assumptions that God was infinitely powerful and infinitely good.³² Those assumptions directed his reasoning towards a conclusion that God’s Providence must sometimes act in ways contrary to the laws of nature.³³ Otherwise, Franklin reasoned, God would be either impotent or willing to countenance demonstrably evil actions—results inconsistent with God being infinitely powerful and infinitely good.³⁴ 

Recall that Paine, by contrast, deduced the existence of God from a logical supposition that God was whatever first created things.³⁵ Unconstrained by assumptions that troubled Franklin, Paine was freed to view Providence as a force that acted in ways fully compliant with the laws of nature.³⁶ But is belief in an intervening Providence ultimately just belief rather than a result of reasoned examination of actual occurrences? Paine may have responded that human abilities to ferret out explanations for actions of God and Providence are severely restricted. 

In 1782, Paine asserted that “no human wisdom could foresee” the purposes of expectation that rational inquiry in the future would push further than he could, at that time, into probing that “secret.” Eleven years later, Paine concluded that “the power and wisdom” that God “has manifested in the structure of the Creation that I behold is to me incomprehensible,” and “even this manifestation, great as it is, is probably but a small display of that immensity of power and wisdom by which millions of other worlds, to me invisible by their distance, were created and continue to exist.”³⁸ 

Some observers accused Paine of thinking too well of himself and his abilities. Remarks by Paine that fed those types of accusations should be balanced against the humility and calm wonder he displayed when observing nature and the universe. Conceivably, and consistent with the later musings by Keats, his belief in an intervening Providence constituted an effort to appreciate and marvel at the “incomprehensible” while remaining otherwise unflinchingly dedicated to rational inquiry. 

What effect did Paine’s belief in an intervening Providence have on his overall philosophy and his political and social views? Gregory Claeys argued that Paine’s “social theory owed much to his belief in Providence, which underpinned, for example, the optimistic elements of his theory of commerce.”³⁹ Would a Paine who lacked beliefs in an intervening Providence have penned theories substantially different from those he promulgated? Would he have lacked the optimism and confidence to propound and push the radical and uncompromising views that continue to resonate? If Paine, after exhaustive efforts to tease out everything reason had to offer in his lifetime, experienced “the intense pleasure of not knowing” that Keats praised as a font of human creativity and achievement, that may have reignited fires within his mind even as nighttime candles flickered in his darkening writing rooms. 

PROVIDENCE AS FEMALE 

The first mystery ultimately remains unresolved. Exploring the second mystery will similarly leave open questions but will, hopefully, provide insight into Paine. Drilling down into what Paine said about Providence, we discover a startlingly unique conviction. Every time Paine referenced gender for the Deity, he identified the Deity as male.⁴⁰ But every time he referenced gender for Providence—in 1777, 1778, 1782, 1792 and 1802—he identified Providence as female.⁴¹

Where did that perspective come from? While in England, Paine was exposed to Quakers, Anglicans and Methodists. Each sect generally viewed Providence as a manifestation of a male God.⁴² Contemporaries such as Rev. Joseph Priestley and Rev. Richard Price had conveyed the view of Providence as a manifestation of a male God in writings published before Paine emigrated to America.⁴³ References to Providence in Political Disquisitions by James Burgh, which Paine cited several times in Common Sense, nowhere hint at Providence having a female gender.⁴⁴ French influences may be excluded for many reasons, including the Catholicism of France and Paine’s anti-Papist views, but it suffices that Paine publicly identified Providence as female at least three times before first travelling to France in 1780.⁴⁵ 

One Paine biographer, after noting Paine’s identification of Providence as female in Rights of Man, observed, with understatement, that “few references to Providence in this period characterized it as female.”⁴⁶ Few indeed. One must reach back to Imperial Rome to find general beliefs in Providence being female. Unconnected dots invite speculation that Paine may have absorbed a belief in a female Providence from contemporary discussions of that Roman source. In ancient Rome, “Providentia” was viewed as a female “divine personification of the ability to foresee and make provision.”⁴⁷ Macrobius, a Roman author who wrote about paganism about 400 CE, declared that “providence was personified as a proper goddess in her own right.”⁴⁸ 

“In the late Republic PROVIDENTIA was that foresight which…helped to secure the continued and peaceful existence of the state, preserving it against external or internal dangers.”⁴⁹ Refraining from learning Latin in Thetford Grammar School, Paine said, “did not prevent” him “from being acquainted with the subjects of all the Latin books used in the school.”⁵⁰ Reference to “Latin books” is sparse in his writings, although that is unsurprising for an author known for minimalistic citations to other authors. What “Latin books” was he exposed to before first identifying Providence as female that may have influenced him? In several writings that preceded his first identification of Providence as female in Crisis No. 3, published on April 19, 1777, Paine displayed considerable familiarity with Roman times and ways.⁵¹ Later references suggest far deeper absorption by Paine of ancient Roman authors, and books about ancient Rome, than is generally assumed.⁵² With that in mind, Paine may have consumed either an unabridged 1747 or 1755 edition of Polymetis by Joseph Spence, or a 1765 abridged version, most likely sometime after returning from his privateering adventures in 1757.⁵³

The unabridged editions of Polymetis contain detailed discussions about the Imperial Roman belief in female Providence and illustrations of “Providentia” as displayed on Roman coins.⁵⁴ Paine had multiple opportunities prior to first identifying Providence as female in 1777 to be exposed to Spence’s discussions of a female Providence. Benjamin Martin subscribed to the unabridged 1747 edition of Polymetis and Paine later attended his astronomy lectures and became a friend, so Paine could have borrowed a copy from Martin.⁵⁵ Alternately, though the purchase price was likely far beyond Paine’s budget, he could have perused a copy of an unabridged edition through the lending libraries then taking hold in London.⁵⁶ Alternately, Paine could have read a far less expensive abridgment published in 1765 that, like the unabridged version, contained detailed discussions about a female Providence, though with far less content and no “Providentia” illustrations.⁵⁷ 

Assume, however, that Paine was not exposed to any of those editions before emigrating in 1774. He still had opportunities, before first identifying Providence as female in April 1777, to have consumed an unabridged edition of Polymetis. The 1775 catalogue of the Library Company of Philadelphia listed the 1755 unabridged edition amongst its holdings.⁵⁸ Polymetis was sufficiently available in America that Jefferson, in a July 1776 letter, accurately expected that “some library in Philadelphia” would have Spence’s Polymetis.⁵⁹ 

Paine rarely mentioned books he had read and sometimes claimed not to have read books that scholars conclude he must have consumed.⁶⁰ That Polymetisis unmentioned in his writings, particularly since he never attempted to explain his beliefs regarding Providence, is unsurprising. Unabridged editions of Polymetis were filled with citations to Macrobius and Cicero and contained images of the transparently female figure of Providentia as displayed on Roman coins.⁶¹ Even the abridged version published in 1765 would have conveyed the essence, noting that “among the “MORAL DEITIES” in Rome, “PRUDENCE (or GOOD SENSE) was received very early as a goddess,…the affairs of human life are by her regulated as they ought to be” and “She is called also Providentia but when they used it for divine providence, the usual inscription on medals is, PROVIDENTIA DEORUM,” while a different name is used for human prudence.⁶² 

Spence, in Polymetis, conveyed critiques of classically based educational methods that were remarkably like critiques that Paine articulated later.⁶³ Spence took “aim in the Polymetis at the classical scholarship of his day, which he” found “obscure and pedantic, and generally unhelpful in explicating the texts themselves” and “also question[ed] the need for a classical education grounded in a thorough study of Latin and Greek, which he consider[ed] an unnecessary preparation for most professions.”⁶⁴ Paine was similarly critical of classical scholarship for its own sake as opposed for purposedriven uses.⁶⁵ Cursory glances through Polymetistelegraph that the intellectual sponge that Paine was in his twenties after returning from privateering adventures would have thrilled at its content. With Paine’s fascination regarding astronomy, Paine may have found Macrobius interesting because he authored a text “that transmitted classical astronomical knowledge to medieval Latin Europe” by commenting on a work of Cicero that Macrobius included in his work.⁶⁶ 

The 1755 unabridged edition and the 1765 abridgement were extensively advertised in London papers that Paine likely read.⁶⁷ As noted earlier, a copy of the 1755 edition of Polymetis was available in Philadelphia, at the Library Company founded by Franklin, after he arrived in Philadelphia in November 1774 and before April 1777.⁶⁸ The Library Company was open to the public well before Paine emigrated and with Paine’s bibliophilia being a quality about which we have little doubt, it is fair to assume he spent many hours there.⁶⁹ While other books published in England before Paine emigrated noted the Roman belief that Providence was female, their references were so slight and obscure that they are a far less likely source for Paine’s belief.⁷⁰ If his belief is derived from a book, Polymetisis the prime candidate. 

May we connect these disparate dots to create a coherent constellation, in Roman style, displaying the origin of Paine’s belief in a female Providence? Tempting as that may be, evidentiary gaps preclude, for now, a definitive conclusion. But sifting the soil of Paine’s contemporaries during the Revolutionary Era as an alternative source is sufficiently unpromising to return us, by deductive reasoning, to Polymetis.

Many Deist Founders, when referencing gender at all, identified God as male and Providence as either male or a manifestation of a male God.⁷¹ When Paine referenced gender regarding God, he similarly identified God as male and never as female.⁷² Paine was unique among his American contemporaries in identifying Providence as female.⁷³ 

John Adams referenced Providence with some frequency, usually with no gender reference. On occasions when Adams referenced gender, he identified Providence as genderless three times and as male twelve times, never suggesting that Providence was female.⁷⁴ Jefferson referenced Providence more infrequently also without usually referencing gender. Of the occasions when Jefferson referenced gender, he identified Providence as genderless twice, as male six times and, like Adams, never suggested a female gender.⁷⁵ Washington referenced an intervening Providence with extraordinary frequency, usually without identifying gender beyond implying a male gender by equating God with Providence.⁷⁶ Of the occasions when Washington expressly referenced gender for Providence, eighteen identified Providence as genderless (“it” or “its”).⁷⁷ Nine identified Providence as male (“he” or “his”).⁷⁸ Curiously, Washington twice deviated from his general practices by identifying Providence as female in 1777 and 1783.⁷⁹ 

No surviving information sheds light on those two deviations from Washington’s general practices. Paine’s identifications were an unlikely influence.⁸⁰ Conceivably, Washington was exposed to Polymetis since George Wythe—a sufficiently close friend that Washington “settled into” Whyte’s home for a while— apparently had a copy in his personal library.⁸¹ But, with Washington having only used female pronouns for Providence twice among the many occasions that he expressed or implied a gender, could they merely have been slips of the pen? What is certain is that Paine, who was extraordinarily careful with his word choices, consistently and repeatedly Providence as female, even emphasizing “her” on one occasion.⁸² 

A possible explanation is that Paine’s unique perspective among the Founders about the differing genders of God and Providence is unattributable to any, so why did he develop that perspective without any outside influence? Did his identification of Providence as female reflect the respect he had for women as equal human beings?⁸³ There is sparse evidence that Paine’s relatively egalitarian views towards women, while remarkably modern for the time, would have sufficiently evolved by April 1777 to have inspired that initial identification of Providence as female.⁸⁴ More broadly, it seems inconceivable, that Paine would have refrained from his general practice of expressly articulating thought processes that were uniquely his regarding his identification of Providence as female if he had developed that concept entirely on his own.uniquely his regarding his identification of Providence as female if he had developed that concept entirely on his own. 

Deductive reasoning and circumstantial evidence suggest that the most likely influence was reports of ancient Roman beliefs as relayed in one or more sources available to him before, and after, he emigrated. For now, Polymetis seems the most likely inspiration for Paine identifying Providence as female. 

Did his identification of God as male and Providence as female indicate that, unlike other Deist Founders, Paine perceived Providence as an entity separate from God? That has intriguing implications but, given limited evidence, cannot proceed beyond the question being posed.⁸⁵ The only Paine biographer who noted Paine’s practice of identifying Providence as female and God as male reported that it troubled him for quite a while.⁸⁶ Unfortunately, his conclusions were unhelpful, declaring, with evidence-free confidence, that “Paine envisioned Providence as an all-encompassing, nurturing she-goddess of nature” and that “Paine’s Providence was the First Cause, the giver of all life,” and “created the universe,…”⁸⁷ Paine’s writings directly belie those conclusions, with that very biographer repeatedly noting that Paine instead stated that the Creator was a male God and, indeed, was the “sole” Creator.⁸⁸ 

Since Paine also consistently identified Nature as female when referencing gender regarding Nature, did he equate Providence with Nature?⁸⁹ His separate expressions of gratitude to both “nature and providence” suggest that he did not equate them, particularly with Paine generally minimizing redundancy in his writings.⁹⁰ More telling, he did not view Nature as actively intervening in human affairs like Providence. Instead, he viewed the laws of Nature as imposing limits on human affairs and on Providence. 

As with many aspects of Paine, the only clues are disclosed through his surviving writings, which offer tantalizing hints that will likely remain perennially unresolved. Ultimately, we cannot know why he identified God as male and Providence as female. We are, regarding his reasoning, consigned to the “intense pleasure of not knowing.” 

EXPLAINING THE INEXPLICABLE 

Ultimately, what humans—unlike other species so far as we know—perennially confront is how to explain the inexplicable. For humans, that results in concepts like God and Providence. How did Paine— the Man of Reason dedicated in his bone marrow to rational thought—explain the inexplicable? Paine struggled to develop the best answers he could given the limitations of what was rationally detectable in the late 18th and early 19th Centuries. Recognizing how little could then be explained through reason and the vastness of what was inexplicable, his enlistment of and reliance on Providence is understandable. 

Did he consider his belief in an intervening Providence grounded on reason? He never either said that it was and articulated any rationale in his surviving writings. He may instead have explored the issues as deeply as rational inquiry carried him and then, in proto-Keats fashion, have embraced the unknowable that he labeled “Providence” while refraining from “irritable reaching for fact and reason.” That we, in the 21st Century, may reach different conclusions through reason does not mean that Paine was less dedicated to reason. Then, and today, firm devotees of reason rather than revelation necessarily marvel daily at inexplicable events and at the intricacies presented by Nature that are well beyond the capacities of humans to explain.

ENDNOTES

1. Jack P. Greene, “Paine, America, and the ‘Modernization’ of Political Consciousness, 93, Political Science Quarterly 73-92 (Spring, 1978), 76- 81 (Paine frequently advocated for people to insist on being governed by rationalsystems and was himself devoted to rational thinking). The biography title best capturing Paine may be Alfred Owen Aldridge, Man of Reason: The Life of Thomas Paine (Philadelphia: J. P. Lippincott & Co., 1959). 
2. E.g., John Keane, Tom Paine: A Political Life (New York: Little, Brown & Co., 1995), 500- 503. 
3. Thomas Paine, Age of Reason [1793], The Complete Writings of Thomas Paine, ed. P. Foner (New York: The Citadel Press, 1945), 1:463-514; Age of Reason: Part Second [1795], Paine Writings, 1:514-604. 
4. Age of Reason [1793], Paine Writings, 1:463- 514; Age of Reason: Part Second [1795], Paine Writings, 1:514-604. Religious views expressed in Age of Reason were “based entirely on the observation of nature and reasoning from it.” Aldridge, Man of Reason, 231. “Paine applied tests of reason to scripture,” and “rejected almost everything,” with the “notable exception [of] creation, because he could actually see the results of it”—using “his own rational teststo question every event in the Bible.” Jack Fruchtman, Jr., Thomas Paine and the Religion of Nature, (Baltimore: MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1993), 159 & 160. Paine identified within the Bible a few exceptions grounded on actual observations of “creation” and, therefore, consistent with rational inquiry. Age of Reason [1793], Paine Writings, 1:484-486. 
5. Age of Reason [1793], Paine Writings, 1:486. This logic, compelling in the late 18th Century, was drawn in question by Darwin but only genuinely challenged with the advent of modern physics. Full disclosure calls for noting that, applying the limited knowledge gleaned through the present day, your author views beliefs in a Deity and an intervening Providence to be precluded by rational inquiry while fully respecting Paine’s ability to rationally reach different conclusions using knowledge available while he lived. As indicated elsewhere, the boundary between rational inquiry and the inexplicable is individual and shifts with time and societal changes. 
6. Paine proffered a rationale for his belief in a Deity. Age of Reason [1793], Paine Writings, 1:486. But on none of the occasions that he expressed belief in Providence as an intervening force did he ever broach reasons for that belief. “Crisis No. 1” [1776], Paine Writings, 1:55; “Crisis No. 3” [1777], Paine Writings, 1:75; id, Paine Writings, 1:87; “Crisis No. 5” [1777], Paine Writings, 1:120; “Crisis No. 6” [1778], Paine Writings, 1:131; “Crisis No. 8” [1780] Paine Writings, 1:160: “Crisis No. 9 [1780], Paine Writings, 1:166: “The Crisis Extraordinary” [1780], Paine Writings, 1:185-186, “Crisis No. 10” [1782], Paine Writings, 1:193; id, Paine Writings, 1:193-194; “Crisis No. 13” [1783], Paine Writings, 1:235; Rights of Man, Part the Second [1792], Paine Writings, 1:366; “An Act for Incorporating the American Philosophical Society, held at Philadelphia for Promoting Useful Knowledge” [1780], Paine Writings, 2:39; Letter No. 3 on Peace and Newfoundland Fisheries, [1778], Paine Writings, 2:202; Public Good [1780], Paine Writings, 2:305; “To the Sheriff of the County of Sussex [1792] Paine Writings, 2:464; “Addressto the People of France” [1792], Paine Writings, 2:539; id, Paine Writings, 2:540; “Letter to the Citizens of the United States,” November 15, 1802, Paine Writings, 2:909; “Letter to the Citizens of the United States,” December 29, 1802, Paine Writings, 2:920; “Letter to the Citizens of the United States,” February 2, 1803, Paine Writings, 2:931; March 4, 1775 letter to Franklin, Paine Writings, 2:1130; “To the Chairman of the Society for Promoting Constitutional Knowledge [1792], Paine Writings, 2:1325-1326. Ironically, hissole mention of Providence in Age of Reason wasto dismiss “Christian mythology” that believed in a pantheon of Gods and Goddesses. Age of Reason [1794], Paine Writings, 1:498). De-attributed works are excluded from consideration. Thomas Paine National Historical Association, “Works Removed from the Paine Canon,” https://thomaspaine.org/writings. html#works-removed-from-the-paine-canon last accessed 6/20/2024. 
7. “Crisis No. 3” [1777], Paine Writings, 1:75 (“… embarrass Providence in her good designs”); id, Paine Writings, 1:87 (“…Providence, who best knows how to time her misfortunes as well as her immediate favors, chose this to be the time, and who dare dispute it?”); “Crisis No. 6” [1778], Paine Writings, 1:131 (“To the interposition of Providence, and her blessings on our endeavours, …are we indebted …”); “Crisis No. 10” [1782], Paine Writings, 1:193 (“…providence, for seven yearstogether, has put [the King] out of her protection,…” (italicsin original)); id, Paine Writings, 1:193-194 (“Untainted with ambition, and a stranger to revenge, [America’s] progress hath been marked by providence, and she, in every stage of the conflict, has blest [America] with success”); Rights of Man, Part the Second [1792], Paine Writings, 1:366 (“Such a mode of reasoning … finally amounts to an accusation upon Providence, asifshe had left to man no other choice with respect to government than between two evils,…”); “Letter to the Citizens of the United States,” December 29, 1802, Paine Writings, 2:920 (“They have not yet accused Providence of Infidelity. Yet according to their outrageous piety,she must be as bad as Thomas Paine;she has protected him in all his dangers,…” (italicsin original)). 
8. Conway, observing that “among these papers burned in St. Louis were the two volumes of Paine’s autobiography and correspondence seen by Redman Yorke in 1802,” characterized the loss as a true “catastrophe.” Moncure Daniel Conway, The Life of Thomas Paine (New York: G. P. Putnam’s & Sons, 1908), 1:xx-xxi. 
9. For examples of those remarks,see “Crisis No. 10” [1782], Paine Writings, 1:193 and Age of Reason, Paine Writings, 1:486. 
10. During a walk in 1817, “several things dovetailed” for Keats into his developing the concept of “Negative Capability,” the ability to comfortably be “in uncertainty.” December 22, 1817, letter from John Keatsto George & Thomas Keats, The Poetical Works and Other Writings of John Keats(London: Reeves & Turner, 1883), 3:99, italicsin original. Keats perceived that, for writers “of Achievement” to embrace rather than battle the unexplainable is a criticalspark to human creativity and inventiveness. One biographer observed that it was “precisely the ability to hold contrary truthsin creative tension which Keatssaw asthe essential quality” possessed by writers “of Achievement.” John Barnard, John Keats (Cambridge, England: Press Syndicate of the University of Cambridge, 1987), 51. Paine’s ability to hold contrary truths in creative tension may be at the heart of the two mysteries we explore here. 
11. December 22, 1817, letter from Keats, Poetical Works, 48. 
12. December 22, 1817, letter from Keats, Poetical Works, 48. 
13. Robert Giddings, John Keats (Boston, MA: Atlantic Monthly Press, 1968), 173; John Keats, “Notes on Milton’s Paradise Lost,” Poetical Works, 3:24 (“What creates the intense pleasure of not knowing? A sense of independence, of power, from the fancy’s creating a world of its own by the sense of probabilities.”) 
14. John F. Berens, Providence and Patriotism in Early America, 1640-1815 (Charlottesville, VA: University of Virginia Press, 1978), 81-111. 
15. E.g., Samuel Adams, “Resolution of the Continental Congress,” The Writings of Samuel Adams, ed. Harry Alonzo Cushing (New York: The Knickerbocker Press, 1907), 3:414-416; February 28, 1797 letter from John Jay to Rev. Jedediah Morse, The Correspondence and Papers of John Jay, ed. Henry P. Johnson (New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1893), 4:225 (“except the Bible there is not a true history in the world”); John Witherspoon, “A Practical Treatise on Regeneration,” The Works of The Rev. John Witherspoon (Philadelphia: William W. Woodward, 1802), 1:93-265, John Witherspoon, “The Dominion of Providence Over the Passions of Men,” The Works of The Rev. John Witherspoon (Philadelphia: William W. Woodward, 1802), 3:17-46; Jeffry H. Morrison, John Witherspoon and the Founding of the American Republic (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2007), 20-21, 90-91. “Sam Adams and John Jay…were orthodox, even conservative Christians, while Franklin, Jefferson, and Paine were deists.” Berens, Providence and Patriotism in Early America, 1640-1815, 107. 
16. See “ADAMS, John,” Joseph McCabe, A Biographical Dictionary of Modern Rationalists (London: Watts and Co., 1920), 7-8 (1920); “ALLEN, Colonel Ethan, Biographical Dictionary, 16; “FRANKLIN, Benjamin,” Biographical Dictionary, 267; “JEFFERSON, Thomas,” Biographical Dictionary, 387- 388; “LAFAYETTE, the Marquis M. J. P. R. Y. G. M. de,” Biographical Dictionary, 412-413; “MADISON, James,” Biographical Dictionary, 471-472; “MORRIS, Gouverneur,” Biographical Dictionary, 929-930; “PAINE, Thomas,” Biographical Dictionary, 577-578; WASHINGTON, George,” Biographical Dictionary, 870-872. A “firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence” wasinvoked in the Declaration of Independence. “Declaration of Independence: A Transcription,” National Archives, https://www.archives.gov/foundingdocs/declaration-transcript. The dominant belief among Foundersin an intervening Providence is expressed in the “Eye of Providence” displayed on all one-dollar bills and on the Great Seal of America. Leonard Wilson, The Coat of Arms, Crest and Great Seal of the United States of America: The Emblem of the Independent Sovereignty of the Nation (San Diego, CA: Leonard Wilson, 1928), pp. 28-29; U. S. Department of State, The Great Seal of the United States(Washington D.C.: Office of Media Services, Bureau of Public Affairs, U.S. Department of State, 1976). Superficially, beliefs of Deist Foundersin an intervening Providence seem to differ from those of prior Deists. Giordano Bruno, executed in 1600, created a central tenet of Deism when he “rejected the idea that Providence intervenes in the operation of nature” and that what “are called miracles can be explained in terms of natural laws.” Edward L. Ericson, The Free Mind Through the Ages(New York: F. Unger Publications, 1985), 56. As noted later, the beliefs of the Deist Founders, interrogated more deeply,suggests a heritage deriving from Bruno.
17. One commentator opined that “[n]obody believed more deeply than radical deists in an allwise Providence.” Henry F. May, Ideas, Faiths, and Feelings: Essays on American Intellectual and Religious History, 1952-1982 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1983), 141. May’s opinion is debatable, particularly when compared to contemporarieslike Rev. John Witherspoon, but, even if true, would beg the question of why “radical deists” held such beliefs. 
18. “Letter to the Citizens of the United States,” December 29, 1802, Paine Writings, 2:920. In 1804, Paine contributed numerous articlesto Elihu Palmer’s Prospect magazine. “Prospect Papers” [1804], Paine Writings, 2:789-830. The religious arguments of Paine and Palmer—who was a substantially deeper thinker regarding religious issues—mostly coordinated but may have clashed regarding the existence of an intervening Providence. Kirsten Fischer, American Freethinkers: Elihu Palmer and the Struggle for Religious Freedom in the New Nation (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2021), 174-221; Kerry S. Walters, American Deists: Voices of Reason and Dissent in the Early Republic (Lawrence, KS: University of Kansas Press, 1992), 244-277 (discussing Palmer); G. Adolf Koch, Republican Religion: The American Revolution and the Cult of Reason (New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1933), 51- 73 (same); Herbert M. Morais, Deism in Eighteenth Century America (New York: Columbia University Press, 1934), 128-138. Intriguingly, Paine’slast known reference to an intervening Providence was in February 1803 (see n7 supra) before he first published in Palmer’s Prospect. Whether that is coincidence or influenced by Palmer must remain in the realm of speculation. 
19. Thomas Paine, “Thoughts on Defensive War” [1775], The Pennsylvania Magazine or the American Monthly Museum for July 1775 (Philadelphia, July 1775), 313-314; The Writings of Thomas Paine, ed. M. Conway (New York: G. P. Putnam’s, 1894), 1:55 (attribution to Paine). 
20. Age of Reason [1793], Paine Writings, 1:505- 511; Age of Reason, Part the Second [1796], Paine Writings, 1:520 & 1:587. 
21. Bernard Shaw, Preface, Saint Joan, A Chronicle Play in Six Scenes and an Epilogue (London: Penguin Books Ltd., 2001), 13-14. 
22. Nicholas Guyatt, Providence and the Invention of the United States, 1607-1876 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 7-8 (assuming, based on Paine’s assault on Christianity in Age of Reason, that, in Common Sense and the Crisis series, Paine’s “public piety diverged from” his “private convictions” and that he cynically “adopted providential language precisely because” he realized “that many Americans accepted its premises”). 
23. Guyatt, Providence and the Invention of the United States, 7-8, 89-90, 95, 105, 148, 152, 155- 157, 169, 171 (noting only Paine’sreferencesto an intervening Providence in Common Sense and the Crisis series and not Paine’s later references). See n6 supra (noting eleven references by Paine to an intervening Providence in writings other than Common Sense and the Crisis series including a reference as late as 1803). 
24. Aldridge, Man of Reason, 53. See also Aldridge, Man of Reason, 276 (citing 1802 invocation). 
25. Matthew Stewart, Nature’s God: The Heretical Origins of the American Revolution (New York: W. W. Norton, 2014), 190-192. 
26. Morais, Deism in Eighteenth Century America, 97. 
27. Walters, American Deists, 29. 
28. Stewart, Nature’s God, 190-192. John Fea, by contrast, opined that being a Deist and believing in an intervening Providence are entirely incompatible. John Fea, “Deism and Providence,” Current, August 19, 2011, https://currentpub.com/ 2011/08/19/deism-and-providence/ 
29. June 12, 1754, letter to Robert Dinwiddie, Washington Writings, 1:76; July 18, 1755, letter to John Augustine Washington, Washington Writings 1:152. See Stewart, Nature’s God, 190-192. 
30. “Letter to the Citizens of the United States,” December 29, 1802, Writings of Paine, 2:920. 
31. Ericson, The Free Mind Through the Ages, 56. 
32. Benjamin Franklin, “A Lecture on the Providence of God in the Governance of the World,” The Complete Works of Benjamin Franklin, ed. John Bigelow (New York: The Knickerbocker Press, 1888), 7:489-497. 
33. Benjamin Franklin, “A Lecture on the Providence of God,” 7:489-497. 
34. Benjamin Franklin, “A Lecture on the Providence of God,” 7:489-497. 
35. Age of Reason [1793], Paine Writings, 1:486. 
36. Examining those occasions when Paine cited an intervening Providence, each implicates a situation that comports with the laws of nature, even if improbable. See citations at n6 supra. 
37. “Crisis No. 10” [1782], Paine Writings, 1:193. 
38. Age of Reason [1793], Paine Writings, 1:486. See Stewart, Nature’s God, 190. 
39. Gregory Claeys, Thomas Paine: Social and Political Thought (Boston: Unwin Hyman, 1989), 204-206 (Paine “extended his notion of Providence unreasonably far”) 
40. References to God as “He” “he” “His” “his” “Him” “him” “Himself” “himself” “Father” “father’s”: “Crisis No. I” [1776], Paine Writings, 1:50- 51; Rights of Man-Part the First [1791], Paine Writings, 1:452; Age of Reason [1793], Paine Writings, 1:478; id, Paine Writings, 1:483; id, Paine Writings, 1:486; id, Paine Writings, 1:487; id, Paine Writings, 1:493; id, Paine Writings, 1:497; id, Paine Writings, 1:506; id, Paine Writings, 1:510; id, Paine Writings, 1:512; Age of Reason-Part the Second [1795], Paine Writings, 1:523; id, Paine Writings, 1:529; id, Paine Writings, 1:583; id, Paine Writings, 1:584; id, Paine Writings, 1:595; id, Paine Writings, 1:601; id, Paine Writings, 1:602; Agrarian Justice [1797], Paine Writings, 1:609; Epistle to Quakers[1776], Paine Writings, 2:58; “The Forester II,” [1776], id., Paine Writings, 2:79; “A Serious Addressto the People of Pennsylvania on the Present Situation of their Affairs” [1778], Paine Writings, 2:295; “Answer to Four Questions on the Legislative and Executive Powers” [1791], Paine Writings, 2:525; “A Letter to the Hon, Thomas Erskine” [1797], Paine Writings, 2:729; id, Paine Writings, 2:733; id, Paine Writings, 2:738; id, Paine Writings, 2:744; “The Existence of God” [1797], Paine Writings, 2:749; id, Paine Writings, 2:750; Paine Writings, 2:754; “Extractsfrom a Reply to the Bishop of Llandaff” [1796-1802], Paine Writings, 2:776; id, Paine Writings, 2:785; id, Paine Writings, 2:786-787; “Remarks on R. Hall’s Sermon” [1804], Paine Writings, 2:790; “Of the Word ‘Religion,’ and Other Words of Uncertain Signification” [1804], Paine Writings, 2:792; id, Paine Writings, 2:793; “Of the Religion of Deism Compared with the Christian Religion, and the Superiority of the Former over the Latter” [1804], Paine Writings, 2:797; id, Paine Writings, 2:798; id, Paine Writings, 2:800; id, Paine Writings, 2:802; “Of the Sabbath Day in Connecticut” [1804], Paine Writings, 2:804; id, Paine Writings, 2:805; “Of the Old and the New Testament” [1804], Paine Writings, 2:806; “To John Mason” [1804], Paine Writings, 2:813; id, Paine Writings, 2:814; id, Paine Writings, 2:815; “On Deism, and the Writings of Thomas Paine” [1804], Paine Writings, 2:816; id, Paine Writings, 2:817; “Biblical Blasphemy” [1804], Paine Writings, 2:824; “Examination of the Prophecies” [1807], Paine Writings, 2:876; id, Paine Writings, 2:886; id, Paine Writings, 2:887; id, Paine Writings,, 2:888; id, Paine Writings, 2:889; id, Paine Writings, 2:890; id, Paine Writings, 2:891; “My Private Thoughts on a Future State,” Paine Writings, 2:892; id, Paine Writings, 2:893;“Predestination: Remarks on RomansIX, 18- 21” [1809], Paine Writings, 2:896. 
41. See citations in n7 supra. 
42. Daniel Gittens, Remarks on the Tenets and Principles of the Quakers as Contained in the Theses Theologica of Robert Barclay (London: J. Betterman, 1758), xii, xviii, 100, 149, 150, 157, 206 & 312 (Quaker views) William Craig Brownlee, A Careful and Free Inquiry into the True Nature and Tendency of the Religious Principles of the Society of Friends, Commonly Called Quakers (Philadelphia: John Mortimer, 1924), 107, 108, 110, 135, 149, 158, 161, 177, 184, 212, 268, (Quaker viewsin 18th century); Quaker anecdotes, ed. Richard Pike (London: Hamilton, Adams, & Co., 2nd ed. 1881), 24, 206-207, 230, 266-267, 272 & 300 (same); Alfred Plummer, The Church of England in the Eighteenth Century (London: Methuen, 1910), 97, 157, 218 (Anglican views in 18th century); A New History of Methodism, eds. Townsend, Workman, & Eayrs (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1909), 1:28- 29, 1:35, 1:66, 1:229, 1:448, 2:36, 2:45, 2:230, 2:287, 2:289 (Methodist views in 18th century). 
43. Priestley and Price routinely, in writings published before Paine emigrated, referenced the “Providence of God” or “Divine Providence” and never hinted at a female gender for Providence. E.g., Richard Price, “Dissertation I on Providence,” Four Dissertations (London: A. Millar & T. Cadell, 1767), 3- 194; Joseph Priestley, No Man Liveth to Himself: A Sermon Preached Before and Assembly of Dissenting Ministers (Warrington, 1764), viii, 19 & 33. 
44. A. Owen Aldridge, Thomas Paine’s American Ideology (Newark, NJ: University of Delaware Press, 1984), 52-53 & 80 (Paine’s citation to Burgh’s book in Common Sense); J. Burgh, Political Disquisitions: An Enquiry into Public Errors, Defects, and Abuses. Illustrated By, And Established Upon Facts and Remarks, Extracted from a Variety of Authors, Ancient and Modern, (London: Edward & Charles Dilly, 1774) 1:486, 3:85, 3:91, 3:121, 3:162, 3:183, 3:205, 3:257 (references to Providence). 
45. “Crisis No. 3” [1777], Paine Writings, 1:75; “Crisis No. 3” [1777], Paine Writings, 1:87; “Crisis No. 6” [1778], Paine Writings, 1:131. Paine’s belief in a female Providence certainly did not derive, for example, from any Catholic belief in an intervening Virgin Mary. Even Protestants in France firmly rejected Mary cults(e.g., David Garrioch, “Religious Identities and the Meaning of Things in EighteenthCentury Paris,” 3, French History and Civilization 17- 25, (2009), 22) and Paine was unquestionably anti-Papist (e.g., Aldridge, Thomas Paine’s American Ideology, 63). 
46. Fruchtman, Thomas Paine and the Religion of Nature, 188, n27. 
47. “Providentia,” Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org wiki/Providentia#cite_note1, citing J. Rufus Fears, “The Cult of Virtues and Roman Imperial Ideology,” Aufstieg und Niedergang (1981), 886. See “Providentia,” Encyclopedia Mythica,https://pantheon.org/articles/p/ providentia.html#google_vignette. 
48. Theodorus P. van Baaren, “ProvidenceTheology,” Britannica, https://www.britannica.com /topic/Providence-theology. 
49. Martin Percival Charlesworth, “Providentia and Aeternitas,” 29, The Harvard Theological Review 107-132 (April 1936), 109. 
50. Age of Reason [1793], Paine Writings, 1:496. 
51. See n7 supra. “Thoughts on Defensive War” [July 1775], Paine Writings, 2:54 (the “Romans held the world in slavery, and were themselvesthe slaves of their emperors”); Forester’s Letter No. 1 [April 3, 1776], Paine Writings, 2:61 (addressing a contemporary opponent using the pseudonym Cato by stating that the “fate of the Roman Cato is before his eyes”); “A Dialogue Between the Ghost of General Montgomery Just Arrived from the Elysian Fields; and an American Delegate, in a Wood Near Philadelphia” [May 1776], Paine Writings, 2:92 (listing “Grecian and Roman heroes” by name); “Retreat Acrossthe Delaware” [January 29, 1777], Paine Writings, 2: 95 (“the names of Fabius”— a Roman hero —“and Washington will run parallel through eternity”). Aldridge identified many occasionsthat Paine referenced classical authors or figuresfavorably or unfavorably. A. Owen Aldridge, “Thomas Paine and the Classics,” Eighteenth-Century Studies 370-380 (Summer, 1968), 370-373. 
52. “Crisis No. 5 [1778], Paine Writings, 123-124 (extended discussion of Rome and Greece); Age of Reason [1793], Paine Writings, 1:491-492 (same). In 1795, Paine expressly listed the “works of genius” by Homer, Plato, Aristotle, Demosthenes, Cicero, and others “as works of genius,” also mentioning Herotodus, Tacitus and Josephus. Age of Reason: Part the Second [1795], Paine Writings, 1:520. Later in life, Paine expressed admiration for Cicero at considerable length because he advocated rational thought. “Examination of the Prophecies of the New Testament…” [1807], Paine Writings, 2:882-886; Meyer Reinhold, Classica Americana: The Greek and Roman Heritage in the United States(Detroit, MI: Wayne University Press, 1984), 105-106; Aldridge, “Thomas Paine and the Classics,” 371-372. 
53. Keane, Paine, 41-44. 
54. Joseph Spence, Polymetis, or, An Enquiry Concerning the Agreement between the Works of the Roman Poets, and the Remains of the Antient Artists(London: R. & J. Dodsley, 2nd Edition with Corrections by the Author, 1755), https://hdl.handle.net/2027/gri.ark:/13960/t25b8jp2 x, 138, 150-151 (Roman belief in female Providence; Joseph Spence, Polymetis, or, An Enquiry Concerning the Agreement between the Works of the Roman Poets, and the Remains of the Antient Artists, (London: R. & J. Dodsley, 1st Edition, 1747), https://hdl.handle.net/2027/mdp.3901505709 9940, 138, 150-51, 161 (same). Those discussionsin Polymetis were partly supported by a citation to Cicero for the proposition “Providentia deorum mundus administrator.” (Italics added.) The 1747 and 1755 unabridged editions were available in the late 1750s when Paine, living off privateering profits, frequented London bookshops, likely borrowed library booksfor a small fee, and attended astronomy lectures by Benjamin Martin. Keane, Paine, 41-44; Craig Nelson, Thomas Paine: Enlightenment, Revolution, and the Birth of Modern Nations(New York: Viking, 2006), 22, (Martin as friend). 
55. Joseph Spence, Polymetis, 1st Ed., https://hdl.handle.net/2027/mdp. 39015057099940, x. 
56. In 1760, an unabridged edition was advertised for “2l. 12s. 6d.” The Public Advertiser” (London, August 6, 1760), 4). Keane, Paine, 41-44. See Eleanor Lochrie, A Study of Lending Libraries in EighteenthCentury Britain, University Of Strathclyde (Thesis, September 2015), https://local.cis.strath.ac. uk/wp/extras/msctheses/papers/strath_cis_publicati on_2684.pdf. 
57. Joseph Spence, A Guide to Classical Learning, or, Polymetis Abridged (London: R. Horsfeld, 1765), https://hdl.handle.net/2027/hvd.fl1e34. 153-154, text & note c (same). The abridgementsold for three shillings. The Public Advertiser (London, February 22, 1766), 4), far less than the unabridged version (e.g., The Public Advertiser (London, August 6, 1760), 4). 
58. Library Company of Philadelphia, The Second Part of the Catalogue of Books, of the Library Company of Philadelphia (Philadelphia: Robert Aitken, 1775), 55 (listing the 1755 edition of Spence’s Polymetis as No. 292 in its holdings). The Library Company wasfounded several decades earlier by Paine’sfriend, Benjamin Franklin. Austin K. Gray, Benjamin Franklin’s Library: A Short Account of the Library Company of Philadelphia 1731-1931 (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1937), 7-17. “Members could borrow booksfreely and without charge” and nonmembers could read books within the library and even borrow books. “At the Instance of Benjamin Franklin”: A Brief History of the Library Company of Philadelphia (Philadelphia: York Graphic Services, 1995), 14. 
59. July 20, 1776, letter from Jefferson to John Page, Founders Online, National Archives, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Jefferson/ 01-01-02-0189 
60. E.g., Aldridge, Thomas Paine’s American ideology, 95-122. 
61. References to Cicero: Spence, Polymetis, 2nd ed., title page quote, iii, 8-13, 15, 16, 21, 23, 29, 31, 38, 40-41, 46-47, 49-50, 57-58, 68-69, 92, 95, 103- 104, 114, 134-135, 137-140, 143-144, 150, 164, 166, 168, 172, 174, 179-180, 182, 188, 190, 193, 195-196, 207-209, 214, 220, 225, 258, 266-267, 272, 279, 287 & 316. Referencesto Macrobius: Spence, Polymetis, 2nd ed., v, 17, 20, 26, 51, 58-59. 64, 116, 174, 193, 196-198, 288 & 315. Images of Providentia: Spence, Polymetis, 1st ed., # 229, https://hdl.handle.net /2027/mdp.39015057099940?urlappend=%3Bseq=2 29%3Bownerid=113489623-228; Spence, Polymetis, 2nd ed., #225, https://hdl.handle.net /2027/gri.ark:/13960/t25b8jp2x?urlappend=%3Bseq =225. 
62. Spence, A Guide to Classical Learning, 153-154, text & note c. 
63. Maiora, “Classical Almanac: Joseph Spence,” EcBlogue: A Classics Blog, https://classicsblogging. wordpress.com/2009/04/28/classical-almanacjoseph-spence/ Compare Aldridge, “Thomas Paine and the Classics,”, 370-380. 
64. Maiora, “Classical Almanac: Joseph Spence,” EcBlogue: A Classics Blog. 
65. Aldridge, “Thomas Paine and the Classics,”370- 380. 
66. Latura, “Milky Way Vicissitudes: Macrobius to Galileo,” 18 Mediterranean Archaeology and Archaeometry 319-325 (2018), DOI:10.5281/zenodo.1477993, 320, 322 & 324. 
67. A combined total of 67 advertisements appeared for those two versions in The Public Advertiser in London from August 3, 1758 to December 29, 1772. Search for Polymetisin London County newspapers from 1700 to 1774, Newspapers.com, https://www.newspapers.com /search/?query=polymetis&p_province=gb eng&p_county=greater%20london&dr_year=1700- 1774&sort=paper-date-asc 
68. In 1775, the holdings of the Library Company included a copy of the 1755 edition of Polymetis. See n7 supra. Paine arrived in Philadelphia on November 30, 1774. Frank Smith, “The Date of Thomas Paine’s First Arrival in America,” 3, American Literature 317- 318. (November 1931). Paine’s first known identification of Providence asfemale wasin April 1777. “Crisis No. 3” [April 19, 1777], Paine Writings, 1:75 & 1:87. 
69. See n55 supra. 
70. E.g., Edward Herbert, The Antient Religion of the Gentiles, and Causes of their Errors Consider’d (London: John Nutt, 1705), 95-96 (Romans, “by her, mean Divine Providence…”). 
71. Franklin regularly referenced Providence as a manifestation of God, rarely referenced gender regarding Providence, and never identified Providence as a manifestation of God, rarely referenced gender regarding Providence, and never identified Providence asfemale. Benjamin Franklin, The Writings of Benjamin Franklin, ed. A. Smyth (New York: The Macmillan Co. 1905 to 1907), 1:221- 439, 2:1-470, 3:1-483, 4:1-471, 5:1-555, 6:1-477, 7:1-440, 8:1-651, 9:1-703 & 10:1-510. See Walters, American Deists, 53-55 & 74-75 (Franklin); Walters, American Deists, 122-124 (Jefferson); Walters, American Deists, 143, 146 & 148-155 (Ethan Allen). See nn58-62 infra. 
72. See n30 supra. 
73. See n7 supra. 
74. When Adams referenced gender regarding Providence, he sometimes identified Providence as being genderless(“it” “its”): John Adams, Diary Entry of March 9, 1774, Diary, The Works of John Adams, ed. C. Adams(Boston: Charles C. Little & James Brown, 1851), 3:110; Discourses on Davila; A Series of Papers on Political History by an American Citizen, Adams Works, 6:396; “To the Young Men of the City of New York,” Adams Works, 9:198; May 22, 1821, letter to David Sewall, Adams Works, 10:399. More often, when he referenced gender, Adamsidentified Providence as male (His” “his”): Diary Entry of March 2, 1756, Diary, Adams Works, 2:8; Diary Entry of June 14, 1756, Adams Works, 2:22; Diary Entry of October 24, 1756, Adams Works, 2:221; Diary Entry of June 9, 1771, Adams Works, 2:274; Works on Government, Adams Works, 4:220; id, Adams Works, 4:413; “Inaugural Speech to Both Houses of Congress, 4 March 1797,” Adams Works, 9:111; Adams, “Speech to Both Houses of Congress, 8 December 1798,” Adams Works, 9:128; Adams, “Speech to Both Houses of Congress 3 December 1799,” Adams Works, 9:128; December 26, 1806 letter to J.B. Varnum, Adams Works, 9:607; October 4, 1813, letter from Adamsto Jefferson, Adams Works, 10:75; April 5, 1815 letter to Richard Rush, Adams Works, 10:159. No surviving documents reflect Adams identifying Providence as female. 
75. Jefferson sometimes identified Providence as genderless(“it” “its”): March 4, 1801 Inaugural Address, The Writings of ThomasJefferson, ed. A. Bergh (Washington D.C.: The ThomasJefferson Memorial Association, 1903), 3:320; May 31, 1802 letter to Thomas Law, Jefferson Writings, 19:130. Other times, he identified Providence as male (“his” “His” “he” “Him”): March 4, 1804 Inaugural Address, Jefferson Writings, 3:383; December 5, 1805 Fifth Annual Message to Congress, Jefferson Writings, 3:384; October 12, 1786, letter to Mrs. Cosway, Jefferson Writings, 5:444; February 14, 1807, letter to the Two Branches of the Legislature of Massachusetts, Jefferson Writings, 16:287; March 28, 1809, letter to Stephen Cross, Jefferson Writings, 16:352. Jefferson ambiguously referenced Providence by “their” without indicating any particular gender. Jefferson, Notes on Virginia, Jefferson Writings, 2:242. No surviving documents reflect Jefferson identifying Providence as female. 
76. Washington’s first recorded reference to an intervening Providence was in 1754. June 12, 1754, letter to Robert Dinwiddie, The Writings of George Washington, ed. John C. Fitzpatrick (Washington D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1931), 1:76. The next year, he credited “the miraculous care of Providence” for protecting him from harm “beyond all human expectation.” July 18, 1755, letter to John Augustine Washington, Washington Writings, 1:152. 
77. April 25, 1773, letter to Burwell Bassett, Washington Writings, 3:133; May 31, 1776, letter to John Augustine Washington, Washington Writings, 5:93; March 1, 1778, letter to Bryan Fairfax, Washington Writings, 11:3; May 30, 1778, letter to Landon Carter, Washington Writings, 11:492; October 18, 1780, letter to Joseph Reed, Washington Writings, 20:213; March 9, 1781, letter to William Gordon, Washington Writings, 21:332; June 5, 1782, letter to Chevalier de la Luzerne, Washington Writings, 24:314; June 30, 1782, lettersto the Ministers, Elders, and Deacons of the Reformed Dutch Church of Schenectady, Washington Writings, 24:391; August 1, 1786, letter to Chevalier de la Luzerne, Washington Writings, 28:501; September 25, 1794, Proclamation, Washington Writings, 33:508; March 30, 1796, letter to Elizabeth Parke Custis Washington, Washington Writings, 35:1; March 30, 1796, letter to Tobias Lear, Washington Writings, 35:5; June 8, 1796, letter to Henry Knox, Washington Writings, 35:85; October 12, 1796, letter to the Inhabitants of Shepard Town and its Vicinity, Washington Writings, 35:242; March 2, 1797, letter to Henry Knox, Washington Writings, 35:409; March 3, 1797, letter to Jonathan Trumbull, Washington Writings, 35:412; August 15, 1798, letter to Reverend Jonathan Boucher, Washington Writings, 36:413-414; November 22, 1799, letter to Benjamin Goodhue, Washington Writings, 37:436. 
78. July 20, 1776, letter to Colonel Adam Stephen, Washington Writings, 5:313; April 23, 1777, letter to Brigadier General Samuel Holden Parsons, Washington Writings, 7:456; November 30, 1777, General Order, Washington Writings, 10:123; April 12, 1778, General Order, Washington Writings, 11:252; August 20, 1778, letter to Thomas Nelson, Washington Writings, 12:343; April 28, 1788, letter to L’Enfant, Washington Writings, 29:481; October 3, 1789, Thanksgiving Proclamation, Washington Writings, 30:427; July 28, 1791, letter to Lafayette, Washington Writings, 31:324; Jun 10, 1792, letter to Marquis de La Fayette, Washington Writings, 32:54. 
79. November 8, 1777, letter to Thomas Nelson, Washington Writings, 10:28 (“We must endeavour to deserve better of Providence, and, I am persuaded,she will smile upon us”); October 12, 1783, letter to Chevalier de Chastellux, Washington Writings, 27:190 (“…with the goodness of that Providence which has dealt her favour to us with so profuse a hand”). 
80. Paine was an unlikely influence on Washington, who first identified Providence as female over six months after Paine had done so. November 8, 1777, letter to Thomas Nelson, Washington Writings, 10:28; “Crisis No. 3” [April 19, 1777], Paine Writings, 1:75 & 1:87. Though Paine and Washington interacted personally shortly before the November 8, 1777, letter, including an extended conversation over breakfast after the Battle of Germantown in early October, no record suggeststhat topic was mentioned. May 16, 1778, letter to Franklin, Paine Writings, 2:1145- 1147; Keane, Paine, 160. Washington’s second identification was a year and half after Paine identified Providence as female in human right to suffrage” and that “women have rights because they are human, not because they are weaker, poorer, or more vulnerable than men”). mythology” (Age of Reason [1794], Paine Writings, 1:498). Hisidentification of Providence asfemale and God as male does not mean that he viewed Providence as a Goddess much less a separate one. “Crisis No. 10.” October 12, 1783, letter to Chevalier de Chastellux, Washington Writings, 27:190; “Crisis No. 10” [March 5, 1782], Paine Writings, 1:193-194. Personal contact in the weeks before October 12, 1783 was precluded by Paine, due to scarlet fever, delaying his visit to Washington’s Rocky Hill estate. Hawke, Paine, 140-142; October 13, 1783, letter to Washington, Paine Writings, 2:1243. 
81. Washington “settled into” Whyte’s home in September 1781. Ron Chernow, Washington: A Life (New York: The Penguin Press, 2010), 410-411. Wythe reportedly had a copy of Polymetis. “Polymetis,” Wythepedia, William and Mary Law Library, https://lawlibrary.wm.edu/ wythepedia/index.php/Polymetis. 
82. See n7 supra. 
83. E.g., Botting, “Thomas Paine amidst the Early Feminists,” The Selected Writings of Thomas Paine, eds. I. Shapiro & J. Calvert (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2014), 633 & 643-644 (observing that Paine, in his 1797 Agrarian Justice, made “a creative argument for women’s 
84. While there are many signals of Paine’s egalitarian attitudes towards women in the 1790s, there are far fewer before April 1777. Paine is no longer deemed the author of “An Occasional Letter on the Female Sex” that appeared in Pennsylvania Magazine in 1775. https://thomaspaine.org/works/works-removedfrom-the-paine-canon/an-occasional-letter-on-thefemale-sex.html 
85. Some conclude that Paine was a Pantheist rather than Deist or had pantheistic tendencies. Fruchtman, Thomas Paine and the Religion of Nature, 3-4, 52-53; Zaidi, “Rediscovering Thomas Paine and the Sacred Text of Nature,” Left Curve, No. 35 (2011), 138-141, https://www.academia.edu/2327425/Rediscovering_Thomas_Paine_and_the_S acred_Text_of_Nature. Taking Paine at his own word, however, he believed “in one God, and no more” (Age of Reason, Paine Writings, 1:464) and criticized what he viewed as the pantheism of “Christian mythology,” Age of Reason (1794], Paine Writings, 1:498). His identification of Providence as female and God as male does not mean that he viewed Providence as a Goddess much less a separate one. 
86. Jack Fruchtman, Jr., The Political Philosophy of Thomas Paine (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2009), 178, n15, (after thinking long on Paine identifying Providence as female and God as male, concluding that “at the least he viewed Providence as an immanent divine element, as part of all of nature (or Nature, in deist terms), whereas his vision of God was as creator of the universe, or First Cause”).“Crisis No. 10.” October 12, 1783, letter to Chevalier de Chastellux, Washington Writings, 27:190; “Crisis No. 10” [March 5, 1782], Paine Writings, 1:193-194. Personal contact in the weeks before October 12, 1783 was precluded by Paine, due to scarlet fever, delaying his visit to Washington’s Rocky Hill estate. Hawke, Paine, 140- 142; October 13, 1783, letter to Washington, Paine Writings, 2:1243. 
87. Fruchtman, Political Philosophy of Paine, 37-38. 88 Fruchtman, Political Philosophy of Paine, 2, 24, 26, 28, 54, 56, 
88. (“Paine’s deeply held faith in God as the sole creator…” (italics added), 135 and 178, n15. 
89. Of the many times Paine referenced gender regarding Nature, he identified Nature as genderless once. “The Existence of God: A Discourse at the Society of Theophilanthropists, Paris” [1796], Paine Writings, 2:252. Otherwise, he identified Nature asfemale—not as male or genderless. Common Sense [1776], Paine Writings, 1:13 (“she”); id, Writings of Paine, 1:23; id, Paine Writings, 1:30; id, Paine Writings, 1:34; id, Paine Writings, 1:40); “Crisis No. 6” [1778], Paine Writings, 1:131; “Crisis No. 8” [1780], Paine Writings, 1:160; Rights of Man, Part the First [1791], Paine Writings, 1:260; Paine Writings, 1:321; Rights of Man, Part the Second [1792], Paine Writings, 1:357; Paine Writings, 1:365; id, Paine Writings, 1:367; Paine Writings, 1:371; id. at p. 400; Age of Reason [1795], Paine Writings, 1:509; id, Paine Writings, 1:529; Forester Letter III [1776], Paine Writings, 1:79; Second Letter on Peace and the Newfoundland Fisheries[July 14, 1779], Paine Writings, 1:198; Third Letter on Peace and the Newfoundland Fisheries[July 21, 1779], Paine Writings, 1:201; Dissertations on Government [1786], Paine Writings, 1:411; “Answer to Four Questions,” Paine Writings, 1:525; Paine Writings, 1:527; Prospects on the Rubicon [1787], Paine Writings, 1:631; Decline and Fall of the English System of Finance [1796], Paine Writings, 1:666; Specification of Thomas Paine, A.D. 1788, No. 1667, Constructing Arches, Vaulted Roofs, and Ceiling [1788], Paine Writings, 1:1032; Spring of 1789 letter from Paine to Sir George Staunton, Bart., Paine Writings, 1:1045; June 25, 1801 Letter from Paine to Jefferson [1801], Paine Writings, 1:1048. 
90. “Crisis No. 13” [1783], Paine Writings, 1:235.

The post The Mysteries of Paine’s Beliefs in Providence appeared first on Thomas Paine Historical Association.

When I joined the ranks of His Majesty’s Customs & Excise in 1946, I was quickly made aware of the department’s historic literary tradition, led by Geoffrey Chaucer, Adam Smith, Robert Bums and Thomas Paine. But even after nearly 200 years there seemed to be a question mark over the last of these famous men. Paine had twice been dismissed from the service, and was subsequently charged with sedition, prompting his escape to France. Bums, by contrast, appeared to be revered without reserve, though I eventually discovered that during his Excise years he too had found himself in hot water, when some of his writing and activities had called his political loyalty into question. But the two men had much more in common than their time in the service of the Crown. 

There is a substantial academic literature about both Bums and Paine (in the latter case, some of it hostile). Biographies include splendid modem works by Robert Crawford (Bums) and John Keane (Paine), along with a forensic analysis of Burns’ radical tendencies by Liam Mcllvanney. But although both lives have been well chronicled (albeit separately), I hope there may be merit in a short selective account of the most salient features of the common radical ground shared by the two great writers, and its inspiration, a comparison that has attracted scant attention. I will not attempt condensed biographies outside that narrow focus: that would neither be possible, nor necessary. 

Parallels can first be found in their origins and upbringing. Both had working class roots in rural surroundings, environments and experience that inevitably conditioned their views. It is unsurprising that both found resonance in the religious and political dissent of the 18th century. 

Paine’s childhood home was close to Thetford gallows and within the purview of the ruling Grafton family. He could not have failed to be aware of the rough justice handed down to the rural poor and the contrasting privilege and power enjoyed by the landed gentry. In Scotland, Bums knew from his own painful experience the penalties of toil and labour, made futile by poverty. Drudgery and hunger racked his body, but they could not vanquish his spirit, his humour, or his innate genius. The result was, to quote Barke, that “his sympathies were for the poor, the oppressed… He hated all manner of cruelty, oppression and the arrogance of privilege and mere wealth.” 

Likewise, both men, as children, were exposed to religious ideology. In Paine’s case direct evidence is limited, but we know at least that his parents belonged to different branches of the Christian faith – his mother to the established church, his father to the dissenting Quaker sect – and that he had regular contact with the teaching of both traditions. Although never an atheist, it appears from his later writings that he was not persuaded by either theology. He said in The Age of Reason: “from the time I was capable of conceiving an idea, and acting upon it by reflection, I either doubted the truth of the Christian system or thought it to be a strange affair.” But more important than the influence of parental indoctrination is the evidence of Paine’s voluntary association with Methodism. There is a record that he heard John Wesley preach on one of his several visits to Thetford. Later, as a 21 year-old, he is said to have preached as a Methodist in both Dover and Sandwich. Eight years later, while in London waiting for an Excise vacancy, he is said to have again turned to occasional preaching. There is even a suggestion in the Oldys biography (repeated by Conway) that Paine sought from the Baptist minister Daniel Noble an introduction to the Bishop of London with a view to ordination. It is certainly reasonable to think that Methodism appealed to Paine. Its preachers were enthusiastic and able to reach out to the common people. They emphasised that Christ died for all, and their message, although concerned with spiritual salvation, was in tune with the 18th century radical aspiration towards equality. Notwithstanding Paine’s later assault upon organised religion and his repudiation of the Bible, Keane’s view “that his moral capacities ultimately had religious roots” is very persuasive. 

Bums was baptized and brought up in the Christian faith. His father William, a strict Calvinist, was committed to his sons’ religious education, though the tone of it was somewhat tempered by the preaching of his parish minister. William Dalrymple was of the Presbyterian persuasion: a moderate, liberal man, antagonistic to divisive sectarianism, zealotry and hypocrisy, concerned to reach out to the poor, and an advocate of amity and love. Although Bums later strayed from his father’s model of piety and virtue 

(particularly in his sexual inclinations: according to Berke he had passionate relationships with many women, productive of fifteen children, six out of wedlock) this early teaching was later reflected in many of his poems. And despite his departure from the constraints of Presbyterian theology, he never relinquished his belief in God. Crawford notices a manual written by Bums’s father addressing some of the fundamental questions of religious belief. One of these not only conditioned his children but, as I will mention later, was also very much in line with Paine’s thinking: 

Q. How shall I evidence to myself that there is a God? 

A. By the works of Creation; for nothing can make itself and this fabrick of nature demonstrates its creator to be possessed of all possible perfection, and for that cause we owe all that we have to him.

Similar parallels apply to the relatively brief formal education of the two writers. At the age of seven, Paine was fortunate to gain a place at Thetford Grammar School, but left when only twelve to serve for the next seven years as an apprentice in his father’s business as a maker of stays. But as a young man, over time, he cultivated the friendship of a number of distinguished men: the Scottish astronomer and instrument maker, James Ferguson, destined to become a Fellow of the Royal Society; the well-known lexicographer and optical instrument maker, Benjamin Martin; the celebrated astronomer and Fellow of the Royal Society, Dr. John Bevis; the writer, Oliver Goldsmith, and crucially the influential Benjamin Franklin, whose support helped Paine to establish himself in America. During his time in London he extended his reading, and met like-minded people who were challenging orthodox theology and the concept of top-down government. He was introduced, as Keane puts it, “to a new culture of political radicalism that rejected throne and altar”, and experienced a long- term conversion to republican democracy.” 

Burns’s first formal education was even shorter, spent between the ages of six and nine in a local school at Alloway Mill, before having to leave to help on his father’s isolated farm at Mount Oliphant. He was, however, fortunate through those years in having a young, inspirational teacher, John Murdoch, who before his departure to Dumfries imparted a thorough grounding in the technicalities of language, with an expectation far wider than was customary for children of such tender years. This, combined with Bums’s voracious and wide-ranging reading, established a literary disposition that would prosper against the grain of physical labour and frugal living on the land. Much credit for that is also due to Bums’s father. Despite the necessity of setting his sons to farming, William Burnes contrived to continue their education at home, conversing with them as adults, and procuring books for them designed both to nurture their faith and spur their imaginations. It was fortunate, too, that in 1772 Murdoch returned to teach at another school in Ayr and was concerned enough to find time to sustain intermittent contact with the Bums brothers in pursuit of their development. Unlike Paine, Bums could not yet add personal acquaintance with leading intellectuals, but he did so at second- hand, gleaning counsel from literature, not least Arthur Masson’s Collection of English Prose and Verse and John Newbury’s anthology of letter-writers of distinguished merit. 

In 1777 the family moved to Lochlea. There, although still committed to hard labour in the fields, Bums was not without friends. As he reached manhood he found particular inspiration among the Masons of Tarbolton, warming to their principles of friendship, benevolence and religious toleration. But the final shaping of Burns’s muse was forged in the depths of adversity. His problems during 1782 to 1784 have been well documented: a business venture that literally disappeared in flames; a breakdown of mind and body; the failing family farm, with the prospect of utter destitution; his father’s legal struggle in the face of a writ of sequestration. Bums’s response, as Crawford puts it, was to write his way out of it. Surrounded by deep recession and gloom across rural Scotland, he fixed upon ideals that would underpin his later poetry: dignity in poverty and admiration for men of independent minds, prepared to reject the lure of wealth and position. In 1783 he began his ‘Commonplace Book’, and gradually his identity as a ploughman gave way to that of a poet and the emergence of his distinctive style and language. By the following year he had come to think that he might be capable of exposing his work to a wider public. And among many strands of his eager imagination were political ideas drawn from his harsh, personal experience that were pointedly radical in their day. 

The legal action against Bums’s father was decided in his favour in January 1784. By then, however, he was exhausted and ill, dying a few weeks later. Throughout the travails of their lives at Lochlea, Bums and his brother had respected their father dearly. But his death and release from debt, allowed a move to Mossgiel, a new beginning, a freer lifestyle and the burgeoning of Robert’s romantic poetry. 

Quite when Paine moved from personal conviction to written advocacy remains unclear. More than once he insisted that he wrote nothing in England, though appearances suggest otherwise. What is certain is that in January 1775, having overcome a serious illness picked up on the voyage to America, he was taken on as editor of the Pennsylvania Magazine. Articles and poems in this new periodical and in William Bradford’s earlier Pennsylvania Journal appeared anonymously or under pseudonyms, but it is generally accepted that Paine was the author of a number of them, including a broadside against slavery, an exposure of cruelty to animals, and a plea for women’s rights. The battle of Lexington in April 1775 stirred him to give vent to increasingly radical views about British tyranny, and to consider the necessity of using force to secure human liberty. In July 1775 he penned a song Liberty Tree, the final verses of which were unequivocal in their call for revolution: 

But hear, 0 ye swains (`tis a tale most profane).

How all the tyrannical pow’rs,

King, Commons, and Lords, are uniting amain’

To cut down this guardian of ours;

From the east to the west blow the trumpet to arms,

Through the land let the sound of it flee:

Let the far and the near all unite with a cheer,

In defense of our Liberty Tree.

In the Journal of October 1775, Paine (as Humanus) followed this with an article headed A Serious Thought in which he reflected on the barbarities wrought by Britain, particularly the importation of negroes for sale. He declared that he would “hesitate not for a moment to believe that the Almighty will finally separate America from Britain”. 

His direct, terse and incisive prose appealed to the common citizen, and found its most positive expression with the publication, in January 1776, of his seminal pamphlet Common Sense. I need not recapitulate the arguments of this famous text, save to notice that its opening pages drew on ingrained tenets of English radicalism, with an insistence on natural rights to liberty and a vision of a new world order. Its impact was, of course, dramatic and a major factor in setting the course in favour of the war of independence. 

Chronologically, Burn’s literary debut came ten years later, with the publication in July 1786 of Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect (the so-called Kilmarnock edition). Bums was then only 27, some ten years younger than Paine had been at the time of his first Pennsylvania articles. The collection was a chosen, wide-ranging miscellany of 36 poems, verses, songs, odes and dirges, previously written alongside his farming at Mossgiel. One reviewer thought the love poems “execrable”, and most critics regretted that they were written in some measure in “an unknown tongue” which limited their audience to a small circle. But there was general recognition of Bums as “a native genius”. He was seen as the ‘ploughman poet; a phenomenon bursting from the obscurity of poverty and the obstructions of laborious life”. Yet in all this, only two reviewers briefly mentioned occasional “libertine” tendencies, dismissed as regrettable but excusable in the light of his origins. 

In fact, the edition contained three overtly political poems, written shortly before publication: The Twa Dogs, A Dream, and The Author’s Earnest Cry and Prayer. Like all the other pieces, they pre-dated Burns’s Excise service, and, according to his Preface, had not been “composed with a view to the press°. Nevertheless, one can perhaps detect a note of caution in Bums’s approach. He commonly made a virtue of his low social standing and used the paradox of a simple bard appealing to a refined audience. 

The Twa Dogs is a gem. Briefly, the dogs are represented as friendly observers of the lives of their keepers: one a local dignitary, the other a ploughman. The poem, masterly crafted, contrasts the pleasure-seeking, self-interest and dissipation of the gentry (leaving aside “some exceptions”) with the destitution and toil faced by the poor, who nevertheless, in their respite from labour, find joy in the simple, frugal, common recreations of rural life: 

A countra fellow at the pleugh,

His acre’s till’d, he’s right enough;

A countra girl at her wheel,

Her dizzen’s done, she’s unco weel;

But gentlemen, an’ ladies warst,

Wi’ ev’n down want o’work are curst

They loiter, lounging, lank an’ lazy;

Though deil-haet ails them, yet uneasy:

Their days insipid, dull an’ tasteless;

Their nights unquiet, lang an restless.

A Dream began with a vindicatory preamble:

Thoughts, words and deeds, the Statute blames with reason; But

surely Dreams were ne’re indicted Treason.

Bums went on to pretend that he had fallen asleep after reading Thomas Warton’s Laureate’s Ode for His Majesty’s Birthday, 4 June 1786, and in his dreaming fancy had imagined his own, alternative address. It was a daring device, for whereas Warton’s ode had lavishly flattered George III, Bums’ satire made it clear that he would do no such thing, but instead addressed the king with mock reverence, feigning loyalty while favouring defection, reminding him of the embarrassment of the loss of the American colonies and the failures of his ministers. He hoped that the King might wring corruption’s neck, and reduce the burden of taxation: levied till ‘old Britain’ was fleeced until she had ‘scarce a tester’ (an old Scots silver coin of small value). A cloak of pretended adulation and a representation of being but a humble poet might not normally have been enough to escape dire retribution, but Bums destiny appears somehow to have been charmed. 

The Author’s Earnest Cry and Prayer was addressed to the Right Honourable and Honourable Scotch representatives in the House of Commons. Bums again began with mock deference: To you a simple Bardie’s prayers are humbly sent. But thereafter his 25 stanzas and postscript of a further seven were unmistakably critical: an ironic blast against the 45 Scottish members, apparently supine in the face of legislation to increase the duties on whisky:

In gath’rin votes you were na slack;

Now stand as tightly by your tack:

Ne’er claw your lug, an’ fidge your back,

An’ hum and haw;

But raise your arm, an’ tell your crack

Before them a’.

He followed this with a swipe at those whose ranks he would shortly join: 

“damn’d excisemen in a bustle”! 

But his main thrust was aimed at the liaison of Scottish and English members, which he clearly saw as an unholy alliance: 

Yon mixtie-maxtie, queer hotch-potch, The Coalition.

An opinion that, albeit in a different context, has a certain resonance today. 

In 1787, though written in 1784, a further political offering appeared in a second expanded edition of Bums’s poems, published in Edinburgh. This was a ballad conveying his thoughts on the American Revolution. Aware that it might be thought “rather heretical”, he had decided not to publish it in the Kilmarnock edition, but later, with the advice of Lord Glencaim and Henry Erskine, caused it to be included in the new edition. Whereas Paine, in 1776, had fomented the war of independence, and throughout had continued to support it in eight issues of The Crisis (the last in April 1783), Bums now reflected, after its conclusion, on the tide of events. Though the facts were no doubt gleaned from other sources, it remains a brilliant and witty summary of the hapless record of Britain’s generals and politicians, remarkable for having been constructed alongside the drudgery of Bums’s ordinary occupation. 

For some years Bums added almost nothing to his political output. To make ends meet, he joined the Excise service as a common gauger, receiving his commission in 1788 and starting work in September 1789. Like myself, a condition of appointment required a pledge of allegiance to the monarch. While his poetic output was undiminished, he was now on the whole careful either to avoid contentious political issues or to try to ensure that controversial material did not appear over his name. 

Not so Paine, who was in Paris during the winter of 1789-90, seeing for himself and documenting the beginnings of the popular revolution. In January 1790 he wrote enthusiastically to his friend Edmund Burke, intimating that the French Revolution was “certainly a forerunner to other revolutions in Europe”. The reaction from Burke, a supporter of the American Revolution, was unexpected. We now know that he had already been mightily disturbed by Dr Richard Price’s address A Discourse of the Love of Our Country, given at the London Revolution Society on 4 November 1789. Rather than welcoming the new revolutionary movement, Burke denounced it in his vitriolic Reflections on the Revolution in France, published on 1 November1790. This drew from Paine his famous response, Rights of Man, published in two parts, brought together in February 1792, drawing inspiration from France and making the case for the government of the people. Despite huge sales (in Britain alone, 200,000 by 1793), public opinion was divided. Those who ached for reform saw the French National Assembly’s Declaration of the Rights of Man and of Citizens as a most desirable model for Britain; many had found in the American Revolution a prospect for change, and in the French uprising a hope that a new politics might flourish in Europe. Whereas Burke, along with the government and entrenched conservative opinion, viewed the events across the Channel with alarm, dreading the possibility of civil resistance and copycat disturbances; the more so as violence and vengeance escalated in Paris. In May 1792 George III issued a Royal Proclamation against sedition, subversion and riot. In September, Paine, indicted to stand trial on a charge of promulgating seditious libel, and under constant harassment, escaped to France. He was, of course, later tried in his absence, found guilty, and vilified by the ruling establishment. 

Burns was undoubtedly aware of the furore created by Paine’s pamphlet, and sympathetic to the reformist view; but also acutely conscious that as a government officer, needing the salary that went with the job, he must not parade his sentiments. He was careful to require that his poems should bear his name only with his agreement. However, on 30 October 1792 this show of neutrality was severely tested. In the newly opened Theatre Royal at Dumfries, with friends, he was in the pit for a performance of Shakespeare’s As You Like It, also attended by some of Scotland’s elite. When at the end of the play God Save the King was called for, there were shouts from the pit for ca ira, the song of the French revolutionaries. Scuffles accompanied the singing of the national anthem, through all of which Exciseman Burns remained in his seat. 

There could be no real doubt as to where Bums’s heart lay. Four weeks later he wrote to Louise Fontenelle, a touring London actress he admired, offering her an ‘occasional address’ to use on her benefit night on 26 November. The Rights of Woman, published anonymously in The Edinburgh Gazetter on 30 November, all too obviously echoed that of Paine’s notorious, inspirational text. Harmlessly, Burns extolled female rights as those of protection, decorum and admiration; far more interesting, however, are the lines with which he topped and tailed his thoughts:

While Europe’s eye is ftx’d on mighty things,

The fate of empires and the fall of kings;

While quacks of State must each produce his plan,

And even children lisp the Rights of Man;

Amid this mighty fuss just let me mention,

The Rights of Woman merit some attention.

When awful Beauty joins with all her charms,

Who is so rash as rise in rebel arms?

But truce with kings, and truce with constitutions,

With bloody armaments and revolutions,

Let Majesty your first attention summon:

Ah! Ca ira! The Majesty of Woman!

As the year drew to its close, and Burns became more confident of what he believed to be the impending triumph of the British reform movement, he was quite unable to restrain his feelings, giving vent to a ballad, Here’s a Health to Them That’s Awa. This unreservedly raised a series of toasts to reformers over the border. Its message was undisguised:

May Liberty meet wi’ success’

May Prudence protect her frae evil!

May tyrants and Tyranny tine i’ the mist

And wander their way to the Devil!

Here’s freedom to them that wad read,

Here’s freedom to them that would write!

There’s nane ever fear’d that the truth should be heard

But they whom the truth would indite!

And wha wad betray old Albion’s right,

May they never eat of her bread!

Sadly, Burns’s optimism was misplaced. Doubts about his loyalty had been brought to the notice of the Excise Commissioners, who promptly launched an inquiry. Learning of the Board’s misgivings, and fearful of the consequences, Burns wrote on 31 December 1792 to one of the Excise commissioners, Robert Graham of Fintry, to assure him that any such allegation was unfounded, in that he was devoutly attached to the British Constitution “on Revolution principles [i.e the 1688 ‘Glorious Revolution’], next after his God”. Remarkably, Graham promptly responded on 5 January to reassure Bums that his job was safe. And, by return, Bums then replied to the specific allegations, admitting that he had at first been an `senthusiastic votary” of the French Revolution, but had altered his sentiments when France came to show her old avidity for conquest. Some writers have judged that the tone of Bums’ letters was contrite, even abject; that effectively he renunciated his reformist stance. This is certainly the feeling they convey on first reading; but Mcllvanney makes a convincing case that on closer analysis there was no apostasy and no apology. 

Yet the detail of all this is perhaps beside the point: it seems obvious that what kept Bums in his job was his high artistic reputation and good standing, based on the fame his poetry, then as now largely focused on its sentimental, urbane and apolitical content. He was fortunate to have a number of friends and supporters in high places, not least Graham; a relationship that may fairly be judged from a ballad of 1790, which opens with the lines: 

Fintry, my stay in worldly strife, 

Friend o’ my Muse, friend o’ my life, 

The brush with authority has attracted microscopic attention, and certainly made Bums anxious for his future. But it must also be seen in the context of explicit violent agitation in France, where, exactly at this time, Paine was in Paris, passionately — but unsuccessfully – seeking to convince his fellow deputies of the National Convention that Louis XVI should be spared the guillotine. 

The Excise inquiry reminded Bums of the dangerous ground of radical poetry. Indeed, with the execution of Louis on the 21 January 1793 and the French declaration of war on Britain on 1 February, the reform movement as a whole was forced to wake up to the perils of open defiance. For the time being the State’s policy was one of such severe repression as to drive radical opposition into hiding. But at the time of the dramatic Scottish sedition trials of August 1793, Bums could no longer contain his feelings. He ventured three poems, based on the legendary heroics of Robert Bruce, all of which carried parallels, for those who could see them, to the then contemporary challenges to Scottish liberty; as Mcllvanney puts it “the tendency to view one struggle for liberty through the optic of another.” The most famous of the three, sent to trusted friends and published anonymously in The Morning Chronicle on 8 May 1794, is Scots Wha Hae, with its stark call to resist “chains and slavery° Unambiguously, through the words of Bruce, it brings the challenge into Burns’ own time – “Now’s the day, and now’s the hour”- and ends with the appeal from the lips of Bruce: 

Lay the proud usurpers lowl 

Tyrants fall in every foe! 

Liberty’s in every blow! 

Let us do, or die! 

Bums followed this up with an Ode for George Washington’s Birthday, comparing the liberty achieved in America with the political suppression imposed from London. Although he could not then openly publicise his views, this clarion call now reveals the strength of his true feelings: 

But come, ye sons of Liberty, 

Columbia’s offspring, brave as free, 

In danger’s hour still flaming in the van, 

Ye know, and dare maintain, the Royalty of Man! 

Here Bums is no longer the humble bard; there can be no mistaking the contemporary relevance of his historical allusions. 

By this time, Paine had written the first part of his passionate but controversial essay The Age of Reason: being an investigation of true and fabulous theology. The astonishing story of how he took up the subject while fearing for his life is too well known to need repetition; indeed the prefaces to the first and second parts of the eventual book, separated by his incarceration in the Luxembourg prison, largely describe the perilous circumstances that attended its completion and survival. The French Revolution had turned sour. The libertarian principles that had marked its beginning had given way to bloody retribution. Paine, whose name was on the death list, had for many years intended to express his opinions on religion, and felt that he now had no time to lose. Part one appeared during February 1794, and part two, expanding his first thoughts, came out in October 1795. Together they presented the reader with a double paradox: firstly, the essays unequivocally repudiated belief in the Bible as the authentic ‘Word of God’, but by no means repudiated God; secondly, though despising the purveyors and apparatus of organised religion, there was also a recognition that the eradication of Christianity in favour of a revolutionary dogma of equality and liberty could lead the French state towards atheism. As Paine explained at the beginning of his first essay: 

The circumstance that has now taken place in France of the total abolition of the whole national order of priesthood, and of everything appertaining to compulsive systems of religion, and compulsive articles of faith, has not only precipitated my intention, but rendered a work of this kind exceedingly necessary, lest in the general wreck of superstition, of false systems of government, and false theology, we lose sight of morality, of humanity, and of the theology that is true. 

As usual, Paine wrote with clarity and raw honesty, appealing to reason. He saw the Old Testament as “a history of the grossest vices and a collection of the most paltry and contemptible tales”, and the so-called ‘New’ Testament as being of doubtful provenance, lacking authenticity, heaping hearsay upon hearsay, and replete with irrational, fabulous inventions and contradictions. While not doubting the existence of Jesus Christ, he regarded him as merely “a virtuous and an amiable man”. On a questionable base of “wild and visionary doctrine”, the church had “set up a system of religion very contradictory to the character of the person whose name it bears…a religion of pomp and revenue, in pretended imitation of a person whose life was humility and poverty.” Nor was this type of construction limited to Christianity. Every national church or religion “had established itself by pretending some special mission from God, communicated to certain individuals”, each with books which they call ‘revelation’, or the word of God. 

Paine’s own belief was simpler. He believed “in one God, and no more” and hoped for happiness beyond this life. He expressed belief in the equality of man, and argued that religious duties consisted of doing justice, loving mercy, and endeavouring to make our fellow-creatures happy. He saw God as the compassionate creator, evidenced by creation, whose choicest gift was the gift of reason. In the first part of the essay there is a particularly interesting passage: 

That which is now called natural philosophy, embracing the whole circle of science, of which astronomy occupies the chief place, is the study of the works of God, and of the power and wisdom of God in his works, and is the true theology. 

Paine’s polemic excited huge interest, reinforcing those of a radical persuasion, but surely making more enemies than friends. Crucially, in Britain, those in gilded positions in the liaison of established church and state chose to see it only as an assault on cherished beliefs and values, a threat to good order and their own positions. Some, who cannot have read the essays, dubbed Paine an atheist. This he emphatically was not, but he undoubtedly provided his opponents with ammunition to confirm in their eyes his reputation as a disreputable trouble-maker. 

Those who had welcomed the French Revolution as the dawn of a new age clung tenaciously to its original thinking in pursuit of liberty. In 1795, Bums, though still employed in the Excise (acting- up as supervisor at Dumfries), and having felt duty-bound to enlist in the Royal Dumfries Volunteers, nevertheless contrived to write his most celebrated political song. Popularly known as A Man’s a Man for a’ that, it first appeared anonymously in the Glasgow Magazine of August 1795. James Barke, in his edition of Bums’ poems and songs, has aptly described it as “the Marseillaise of humanity”. Disparaging the ‘tinsel show” of rank and title, Bums extols the merits of the honest man of independent mind. As others have noticed, the short verses echo the sentiments of Paine’s Rights of Man, while Marilyn Butler has pointed out that the closing lines closely follow the letter and spirit of the revolutionary song ca Ira!: 

Then let us pray that come it may 

(As come it will for a’ that) 

That Sense and Worth o’er a’ the earth 

Shall bear the gree an’ a’ that! 

For a’ that, an’ a’ that, It’s comin yet for a’ that, 

That man to man the world o’er 

Shall brothers be for a’ that 

Paine struggled on until 1809, adding a number of less well-known studies to his archive, and at the last declining an attempt to have him accept Christ as the Son of God. Bums, like Paine, never surrendered his belief in a benevolent God. He died in 1796, still impoverished but a radical exciseman to the last. There is nothing to suggest that the two men ever met, but there may yet be one unremarked final parallel. Another version of The Liberty Tree, although never quite proved to be the work of Bums, bears the hallmarks of his style. Here then, to close, are the last two verses of eleven:

Wi’ plenty o’ sic trees, I trow

The wand would live in peace, man.

The sword would help to mak’ a plough,

The din o’ war wad cease, man,

Like brethren in a common cause,

We’d on each other smile, man:

And equal rights and equal laws

Wad gladden every isle, man.

Wae worth the loon wha wadna eat

Sic halesome, dainty cheer, man!

I’d gie the shoon frae aff my feet

To taste the fruit o’t here, man!

Syne let us pray, Auld England may

Sure plant this far-famed tree, man:

And blythe we’ll sing, and herald the day

That gives us liberty, man.

Sources:

• James Barke (ed.): Poems and Songs of Robert Bums (Collins, 1960)
• James A Mackay: A Biography of Robert Burns (Mainstream, 1992)
• Robert Crawford: The Bard: Robert Burns, a Biography (Pimlico, 2009)
• Liam Mcllvanney: Burns the Radical: Poetry and Politics in Late Eighteenth Century Scotland (Tuckwell Press, 2002)
• And, of course, the works of Paine and Burns referred to in the text.

The post Burns And Paine  appeared first on Thomas Paine Historical Association.

On being asked ten years ago to speak to the Thomas Paine National Historical Association here in New Rochelle, I assumed that it would be a simple matter of stringing together the literary equivalent of a laurel wreath and setting it upon the head of a statue. It had been several years since I’d read The Age of Reason or Rights of Man, but in my own writing I’d borrowed more than one of Paine’s lines of argument, often unwittingly nearly always to good effect, and I didn’t think I’d have much trouble placing the figure of Paine on the pedestal of the heroic American past.

Before appearing on the lectern I fortunately took the precaution of re-reading Common Sense, and instead of finding myself in the presence of a marble portrait bust I met a man still living in what he knew to be “the undisguised language of historical truth,” leveling a fierce polemic against a corrupt monarchy that with no more than a few changes of name and title, could as easily serve as an indictment of the complacent oligarchy currently parading around Washington in the costumes of a democratic republic. Invariably in favor of a new beginning and a better deal, Paine was speaking to his hope for the rescue of mankind in a voice that hasn’t been heard in American politics for the last forty years, and the old words brought with them the sound of water in a desert:

“When it shall be said in any country in the world, ‘My poor are happy; neither ignorance nor distress is to be found among them; my jails are empty of prisoners, my streets of beggars; the aged are not in want; the taxes are not oppressive…when these things can be said, then may that country boast its constitution and its government.'” “Why is it that scarcely any are executed but the poor?”

The abundance of Paine’s writing flows from his affectionate and generous spirit. During the twenty years of his engagement in both the American and French revolutions, he counts himself “a friend of the world’s happiness,” believing that the strength of government and the happiness of the governed is the freedom of the common people to mutually and naturally support one another. Republican democracy he conceived as a shared work of the imagination among people of disparate interests, talents and generations and therefore, as the holding of one’s fellow citizens in thoughtful regard not because they are beautiful or rich or famous but because they are one’s fellow citizens. His thinking about the mongrel splendors of democracy echoes that of Plato in The Republic: “like a coat embroidered with every kind of ornament, the city, embroidered with every kind of character, would seem to be the most beautiful.”

The force of Paine’s writing is of a match with his purpose, which is to empower his readers with the confidence to know the value of their own minds. He frames his thought in language plain enough to be understood by everybody in the room, his remarks addressed not only to the learned lawyer and the merchant prince but also to the ship chandler, the master mechanic and the ale-wife. Paine’s writing is revolutionary because it is a democratic means to a democratic end. His learning is not bookish; it is drawn from the wide reaching of his experience as corset-maker, privateer, magistrate, engineer, tax collector, Methodist preacher. Unlike the political theorists employed by our own self-important news media, Paine doesn’t think it the duty of the political writer to keep things running quietly and smoothly. His aim is to arm ordinary individuals with the weapon with which to defend themselves against organized deception and arbitrary power. The intention is explicit in the composition of Common Sense, which is why it excited so welcome a response among readers everywhere in the colonies when it was published in January 1776.

The sale of 150,000 copies within a matter of months furnished Thomas Jefferson with the proof of a national resolve that encouraged him to fit Paine’s reasoning to the writing of the Declaration of Independence in July 1776. During the course of the war Paine countered the frequent news of American defeat with the heartening rhetoric of The Crisis Papers that were passed from hand to hand around military campfires at Saratoga and Valley Forge, but the victory at Yorktown brought him little else except the prize of unemployment, his services no longer required by the proprietors of their new-found American estate.

The wealthy and well-educated gentlemen who gathered in Philadelphia in 1787 to frame the Constitution shared Paine’s distrust of monarchy, but not his faith in the abilities of the common people. From Aristotle the founders borrowed the theorem that all government, no matter what its name or form, incorporates the means by which the privileged few arrange the distribution of law and property for the less fortunate many. Recognizing in themselves the sort of people to whom James Madison assigned “the most wisdom to discern, and the most virtue to pursue, the common good of the society”, they undertook to draft a constitution accepting of the fact that whereas a democratic society puts a premium on equality, a capitalist economy does not. Unlike Magna Carta the Constitution doesn’t contemplate the sharing of the commons inherent in a bountiful wilderness; it provides the means by which men of property can acquire more property, and it was remembered that Paine opposed the holding of slaves and the denying to women the same rights granted to men, a man on too familiar terms with lower orders of society and therefore unfit for the work of dividing up the spoils.

By the end of the 19th century the several 18th century envisionings of a republic (Hamilton’s and Franklin’s as well as those of Jefferson and Paine) had been rolled off-stage by the industrial behemoth that was the glory of the Gilded Age. Mark Twain coined the phrase to represent his further observation that a society consisting of the sum of its vanity and greed “is not a society at all, but a state of war.” In the event that anybody missed Twain’s meaning, President Grover Cleveland in 1887 set forth the rules of engagement while explaining his veto of a bill offering financial aid to the poor — “The lesson should be constantly enforced that the people support the government, the government should not support the people.”

Twenty years later, Arthur Hadley, the President of Yale, further simplified the lesson, “The fundamental division of powers in the Constitution of the United States is between voters on the one hand and property owners on the other. The forces of democracy on the one side…and the forces of property on the other side.” In the years between the Civil War and the Great Depression the forces of democracy mounted the populist rising in the 1890s, the progressive movement in the 1910s, President Teddy Roosevelt’s preservation of the nation’s wilderness and his harassment of the Wall Street trusts—but it was the stock market collapse in 1929 that equipped the strength of the country’s democratic convictions with the power of the law. What Paine had meant by the community of common interest found voice and form in Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal, also in the fighting of World War II by a citizen army willing and able to perform the acts of public conscience, Paine’s love of liberty carried forward into the 1960s with the sexual revolution, the civil rights and anti-Vietnam war movements.

But that was long ago and in another county.

Ronald Reagan’s new Morning in America brought with it in the early 1980s the second coming of a Gilded Age more swinish than the first. Paine had construed democracy as a representative assembly asking as many questions as possible from as many different sorts of people as possible with the thought that all present might learn something from one another. But as the country has continued to divide ever more obviously into a nation of the rich and a nation of the poor, the shaping of the will of Congress and the choosing of the American president has become a privilege reserved to the country’s equestrian classes, a.k.a. the 5% of the population that now holds 84% of the nation’s wealth and that can be defined as the happy few who run the big corporations and the banks, own and operate the news and entertainment media, write the laws and govern the universities, control the philanthropic foundations, the policy institutes, the gambling casinos and the sports arenas.

Whether Democrat or Republican, the administrations occupying Washington for the last thirty years Paine would have recognized as royalist in sentiment, imperialist in character, the legislation emerging from Congress, like the rulings handed down by the Supreme Court, granting more freedom for property, less freedom to individuals. The privatizations of the public good accompanied by the letting fall into disrepair nearly all of the infrastructure—roads, water systems, schools, power plants, bridges, hospitals — that provide the citizenry with the foundation of its common enterprise. The domestic legislative measures align with the ambitions of a national security state backed by the guarantee of never-ending foreign war that arms the government with police powers more repressive than those available to the agents of the King George III. The Justice Department reserves the right to tap everybody’s phone, open anybody’s mail, to decide who is, and who is not, a patriot. President Obama enlarges President George W. Bush’s notions of arbitrary and preemptive strike to permit the killing of any American citizen believed to be a terrorist or a friend of terrorists, whenever and however it suits his exalted fancy.

Troubled op-ed columnists sometimes refer to the paradox implicit in the waging of a secret and undeclared war under the banners of a free, open and democratic society. They don’t proceed to what would have been Paine’s further observation that the nation’s foreign policy is cut from the same tyrannical cloth as its domestic economic policy. The invasion of Iraq in 2003 and the predatory finance engendering the Wall Street collapse in 2008 both enjoyed the full faith and backing of a government that sets itself above the law. I read the newspapers, and I think of what Paine might have had to say:

About powers usurped under the government under the Patriot Act — “Arbitrary power of an encroaching nature, like a beast devouring its natural prey — liberty, law and right.” About the Republican budget proposals — “The greedy hand of power constantly robbing society of the fruits of its labors, inventing alibis for the never-ending collection of taxes.” About the surveillance cameras and the airport security procedures meant to instill in the American people the habit of obedience—”A thousand little rooms of unfreedoms springing up at each castle of despotism whose lines of power crisscross and boss every individual subject, even to the point of corrupting an individual’s language, subjecting them to the designs of despots who treat them as dumb and submissive animals fit only for the herding through the wilderness of turnpike gates.”

The lack of vigorous objection in Congress accords with the monetized spirit of the times, which doesn’t rate politics as a valuable commodity. It is the wisdom of the age that money rules the world, transcends the boundaries of sovereign states, is the true and proper name for liberty. What need of statesmen, much less politicians, when it isn’t really necessary to remember what they say?

To read the writing of Tom Paine is to be reminded that our own contemporary political discourse is for the most part the gift for saying nothing. Forbidden the use of words apt to depress a Q score, or disturb a Gallup poll, this year’s presidential candidates stand as product placements meant to be seen instead of heard, their quality to be inferred from the cost of their manufacture. Choreographed along the lines of a Superbowl half-time show, the election campaign is the ritual performance of the legend of democracy—the bursting in air of star-spangled photo ops, the candidates so well contrived that they can be played for jokes, presented as game show contestants, posed as crusader knights setting forth on vision quests, enduring the trials by Klieg lights until on election night they come on last to judgment before the throne of cameras by whom, and for whom, they were produced. Best of all, at least from the point of view of the corporate sponsors spending upwards of $3 billion dollars for the politicians, the press coverage and the balloons, there is no loose talk about the word what is meant by the word, democracy, or how and why it refers to the cherished hope of liberty embodied in the history of a courageous people. The campaigns don’t favor the voters with the respect owed to their standing as valuable citizens participant in the making of such a thing as a common good. They stay on message with the parsing of democracy as the ancient Greek name for the American Express card, picturing the great, good American place as a Florida resort hotel wherein all present receive the privileges and comforts owed to their status as valued customers, invited to convert the acts of citizenship into the arts of shopping, to choose wisely from the fall collection of ornamental talking heads, texting A for yes, B for no. The sales pitch bends down to the electorate with a headwaiter’s condescending smile, deems the body politic incapable of generous impulse, selfless motive or creative thought. How then expect the people to trust a government that invests no trust in them? Why the surprise that over the last thirty years the voting public has been giving ever louder voice to its contempt for any and all politicians, no matter what their color, creed, prior arrest record or sexual affiliation.

As with Congress, so also with the mainstream news media that regard themselves as government factota, enabling and co-dependent. Their point of view is that of the country’s landlords, their practice equivalent to what is known to Wall Street stock market touts as “securitizing the junk.” Explain to us, my general, why the United States must maintain 662 military bases in 38 foreign countries, and we will transmit the message to the American people with a waving of the flag. Instruct us, Mr. Chairman, in the reasons why the banks and the insurance companies produce the paper that Congress doesn’t read but passes into law, and we will show the reasons to be sound. Do not be frightened by our pretending to be scornful or suspicious. Give us this day our daily bread, and we will hide your stupidity and greed in the rose bushes of inside-the-Beltway gossip. We play the game of show, not tell; the words don’t count.

The cable news networks meanwhile package dissent as tabloid entertainment so safely labeled as sound-bite spin that it threatens nobody with the awful prospect of having to learn something that they don’t already know. Comedians on the order of Jon Stewart and Bill Maher offer jokes as consolation prizes for giving up the hope of political or social change. The ever-rising cost of staging the fiction of democracy reflects the ever increasing rarity of the demonstrable fact. The country is being asked to vote in November for television commercials because only in the fanciful time zone of a television commercial can the American democracy still be seen to exist. The change of venue accounts for the current absence of honest or intelligible debate in Congress, also for the subservience of the news media. People trained to the corporate style of thought exchange the right to freely speak for the right to freely purchase. When intended to draw blood instead of laughs, the speaking truth to power is not a good career move. To lend to words the force of deeds is as rare as it is brave, and usually it brings with it misfortunes like those that accompanied Paine throughout the whole of his uneasy life.

Without a market for lines of thought suddenly become both suspect and irrelevant in Philadelphia, Paine in 1787 sailed for Europe, still bent on his great project of political transformation and social change. In England he wrote Rights of Man, the book in which he sought to give programmatic form to his plan for a just society and which, 150 years ahead of its time, anticipates much of the legislation that eventually showed up in the United States under the rubric of Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal—government welfare payments to the poor, pensions payments to the elderly, public funding of education, reductions in military spending, an estate tax limiting the amount of an inheritance. The book appeared in two volumes, in 1791-92, instantly and immensely popular with readers not only in England but also in America and France. The sale of 500,000 copies ranked it the best-selling book of the entire 18th century and prompted the British government to charge its author with treason and declare him an outlaw.

When Paine crossed the Channel to Calais in the summer of 1792, a rejoicing crowd of newborn citizens accorded him a hero’s welcome. To the makers of the French Revolution The Rights of Man bore the stamp of revelation, and as testimony of their appreciation they promptly elected Paine to the political assembly then at work in Paris on the construction of yet another new republic. He remained in France for the rest of the century, arrested by Robespierre’s Committee of Public Safety when the revolution degenerated into the Reign of Terror, writing the second volume of The Age of Reason while in the Luxembourg prison awaiting a summons to the guillotine.

On his eventual return to America in 1802 he was met at the dock in Baltimore with newspaper headlines damning him as a “loathsome reptile,” a “lying, drunken, brutal infidel.” When he died in poverty in 1809, he was memorialized by John Adams as “an insolent blasphemer of things sacred and transcendent. Libeler of all that is good.”

I’m sometimes asked why no voice like Paine’s descends from a computer cloud to rouse the American people to a regaining of their independence. The answer is in the 20th century’s shifting of the means of communication. Our contemporary political discourse is a commodity made for television, the medium defined by the late Marshall McLuhan as “the huge educational enterprise that we call advertising.” McLuhan didn’t mean the education of a competently democratic citizenry, but rather “the gathering and processing of exploitable social data” by “Madison Avenue frogmen of the mind” intent on retrieving the sunken subconscious treasure of human credulity and fear.

Like the music in elevators, our machine-made news comes and goes in a familiar loop — the same footage, the same spokespeople, the same reassuringly empty smiles. What was said last week certain to be said this week, next week and then again six weeks from now, the sequence returning as surely as the sun, demanding little else from the constant viewer except devout observance. The proof of being in the know defined as the making of the correct responses — Nike is a sneaker or a cap, Paris Hilton is not a golf ball, Miller beer is wet, politics is crime. To the degree that information can be commodified, as corporate logo campaign contribution or designer dress, the amassment of wealth and the acquisition of power follows from the labeling of things rather than from the making of them. Never have so many labels come so readily to hand, streaming in the firmament of the blogosphere, posted on the wall behind home plate at Yankee stadium. The achievement has been duly celebrated by the promoters of “innovative delivery strategies” that “broaden our horizons” and “brighten our lives” with quicker access to A-list celebrities and subprime loans.

Maybe I miss the key performance indicators, but I don’t know how a language that’s meant to be disposable enriches anybody’s life. I can understand why words devoid of meaning serve the interests of the corporation and the state, but they don’t “enhance” or “empower” people who would find in their freedom of thought a voice that they can recognize as their own. What Thomas Paine meant by the truth doesn’t emerge from a data bank; nor does it come with a declaration of war or the blessing of Christ; it’s the courage that individuals derive from not running a con game on the unique character and specific temper of their own minds.

The vitality of the American democracy rests on the capacity of its citizens to speak and think without cant, the habit of mind that James Fenimore Cooper in 1838 associated with his definition of the word candor. “By candor,” Cooper said, “we are not to understand a trifling and uncalled expositions of the truth; but a sentiment that proves a conviction of the necessity of speaking truth when speaking at all; a contempt for all designing evasions of our real opinions. In all the general concerns, the public has a right to be treated with candor. Without this manly and truly republican quality…the institutions are converted into a stupendous fraud.”

George Orwell spoke to the same point in his essay, “Politics in the English language,” published in 1946. Social and political change follows from language that induces a change of heart. “The slovenly use of words,” he said, “makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts…if one gets rid of these habits one can think more clearly, and to think clearly is a necessary first step toward political regeneration.”

Oligarchy prefers trifling evasions to real opinions. Advertising isn’t interested in political regeneration. It’s the voice of money talking to money, in the currency that Toni Morrison, accepting the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1993, denominated as “the language that drinks blood, happy to admire its own paralysis, possessed of “no desire or purpose other than maintaining the free range of narcotic narcissism…dumb, predatory, sentimental, exciting reverence in school children, providing a shelter for despots. Language designed to sanction ignorance and preserve privilege.

The vocabulary is limited but long abiding. Aristocrats in ancient Athens didn’t engage in dialogue with slaves, a segment of the population classified by the Aristotle as “speaking tools,” animate but otherwise equivalent to an iPhone app. The sponsors of the Spanish Inquisition ran data-mining operations not unlike the ones conducted by Facebook. So did the content aggregators otherwise known as the NKVD in Soviet Russia, as the Gestapo in Nazi Germany.

I’m content to regard the Internet as the best and brightest machine ever made by man, but nonetheless a machine with a tin ear and a wooden tongue. It is one thing to browse the Internet; it is another thing to write for it. The author doesn’t speak to a fellow human being; he or she addresses an algorithm neither willing nor able to wonder what the words might mean. The search engines scan everything but hear nothing, equip the fear of freedom with more expansive and far-seeing means of surveillance than were available to Tomás de Torquemada or Heinrich Himmler.

The strength of language doesn’t consist in its capacity to pin things down or sort things out. “Word work,” Toni Morrison said in Stockholm, “is sublime because it is generative,” its felicity in its reach toward the ineffable. “We die,” she said, “That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives.” Shakespeare shaped the same thought as a sonnet, comparing his beloved to a summer’s day and offering his rhymes as surety on the bond of immortality — “So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this and this gives life to thee.”

So does the writing of Thomas Paine.

The post Lewis Lapham Speech at the 2012 International Conference for Thomas Paine Studies at Iona College appeared first on Thomas Paine Historical Association.

There has been much speculation on what became of Thomas Paine’s first wife, Mary Lambert, after they moved from Sandwich to Margate in April 1760. George Chalmers, in his hostile life of Paine published in 1791, was the first to speculate on it. ‘By some she is said to have perished on the road of ill-usage’, he asserted, and a premature birth’.¹ The inference is that Tom’s’s wife-beating led Mary to miscarry and this caused her death. Then, without any acknowledgement of the contradiction, Chalmers also retails a rumour ‘that she is still alive, though the extreme obscurity of her retreat prevents ready discovery’.² Clearly both tales cannot be true. 

Hazel Burgess cast doubt on the first with her discovery in the records of St. Lawrence’s church Thanet, in Ramsgate, not far from Margate, of entries recording the baptism on 7 December, 1760, of Sarah, daughter of Thomas and Mary Pain, and of her burial on 12 September, 1761.³ This turns out to have been a red herring, however, for a later entry in the same parish register records the birth of another daughter, Pleasant, to Thomas and Mary Pain on 1 January, 1769. They were clearly not the same couple as Tom and Mary but their namesakes.⁴ It still leaves the fate of Toms’s wife a mystery. 

While Chalmers suggested that she may have survived, he admitted that ‘the women of Sandwich are positive that she died in the British Lying in Hospital, in Brownlow Street, Long Acre; but the registry of that charity, which is kept with commendable accuracy, evinces that she had not been received into this laudable refuge of female wretchedness’.⁵ ‘When Paine’s first wife died in childbirth, old women of Thetford, according to another account ‘blamed him saying that he had demanded that his wife get out of bed too soon to cook for him.’⁶. Although they differed about the circumstances, the women of Sandwich and Thetford were probably right in believing that Mary had died. 

End Notes 

1. Francis Oldys [George Chalmers]. The Life of Thomas Paine (10th edition. 1793), p.13. The ‘ill usage’ Chalmers refers to he had mentioned previously, alleging that following their marriage ‘two months had hardly elapsed when our author’s ill usage of his wife became apparent’ p.12. 
2. Ibid., p.14. 
3. Dr Burgess first announced her discovery In ‘To Thomas a Daughter, the Thetford Magazine (Summer, 2000), pp.14-17; she published a corrected version in this journal: Hazel Burgess, ‘A Small Addition to the Writings of Thomas Paine’. Thomas Paine Society Bulletin and Journal of Radical History 5:3 (2001). Pp. 7-10. Cf. George Hindmarch. ‘Thomas Paine: Observations on Methodism and his Marriage to Mary Lambert’. The Journal of Radical History of the Thomas Paine Society 8:3 (2008). p.22, and Burgess’s letter in the following issue, 8:4, p.37, 
4. Canterbury Cathedral Archives U3119/115. Registers of St. Lawrence Thanet sub baptisms 1769. Pleasant’s death is recorded under burials for 13 October, 1775. Pain was a surname shared by others in the parish. A ‘Thomas Pain batchelor’ married Ann Pierce on 28 December, 1784. 
5. Chalmers, pp.13-14.
6. Fawn Brodie. Thomas Jefferson: An Intimate History (1975), 122-3. Cited by John Keane, Tom Paine: A Political Life (1996). pp.50-1. Brodie cites only James Cheetham, The Life of Thomas Paine (1809), who did not mention the old women of Thetford, so her source is unknown.

The post The Fate Of Paine’s First Wife: A Note  appeared first on Thomas Paine Historical Association.

We live in curious times amid astonishing contrasts, reason on the one hand, the most absurd fantasies on the other…… a civil war in every soul. 

– Voltaire

Paine’s dismissal from his excise appointment at Afford left him with a shattered career, and without immediate prospects. His regular income had slipped from his grasp, but despite his swift change of fortune and the suddenness of his dismissal, he was probably quite well placed to look after himself for a few weeks while he took stock of his position and sought a means to make a living. He could always return to his trade of stay-making if nothing else was available, but he had put that trade behind him when he entered the excise, and he seems never to have considered it serious again.

Oldys, the chief informant about Paine’s movements during his first English period, painted a very sorry picture of Paine after leaving Afford, but he probably did this to heighten the effect of Paine’s dismissal in the minds of readers of his life, and also to cover the inadequacy of his own knowledge of Paine’s next few months, and as usual when he was trying to convey a false impression, he carefully phrased his account to facilitate the drawing of adverse conclusions from unsubstantiated suggestions: 

Our adventurer who appears to have had from nature, no desire of accumulating, or rather no care of the future, was now reduced to extreme wretchedness. He was absolutely without food, without raiment and without shelter. Bad, however, must that have been, who finds no friends in London. He met with persons who, from disinterested kindness, gave him clothes, money and lodging. 

So strong has been the influence of Oldys over most later biographers of Paine, who appear not to have realised that the excise records were his chief source of information about Paine’s first thirty-seven years, that the picture he painted has usually been accepted without question. But it was no wretched ragged beggar who rode his own horse from Alford to London, for simple analysis of the known facts of Paine’s excise career to date indicates a very different situation. 

Grantham, a busy town, would not have been the cheapest place in England for an excise supernumerary to maintain himself in the conservative style of living expected of a minor official and under the watchful eye of his Collector, but Paine livered there without known difficulty from December 1762 until leaving for Alford in August 1764. A supernumerary’s salary was only £25 a year, but on promotion to a ride officer in Alford, his salary would have doubled to £50, a considerable advance notwithstanding the attendant expense of acquiring and keeping a horse. His Alford duties entailed riding country roads that were frequently under water in winter, but which an exciseman nevertheless was required to negotiate, and he must have equipped himself with a serviceable wardrobe of stout clothing to enable him to continue riding in all weathers. And since Solomon Hansard (the landlord of the Windmill where Paine lodged) valued his excise connection sufficiently to retain it until he died, it is probable that Paine was able to lodge at the Windmill on very reasonable terms. 

Paine applied for restoration to the excise within a year of leaving Alford, and it was by no means certain that his application would meet with success, for there were many instances of such applications being rejected by the excise board. When he did apply, his re-appraisal would have laid particular emphasis on whether he was free from debts, in accordance with standard excise practice; and this hurdle he was to surmount with consummate ease. It was in all probability as a thrifty young man with a supply of money saved during a year of quiet living that Paine returned to London, and there he would have been able to add to his reserves by selling the horse he no longer required. Nor would he have had any great worries about whether he would be able to find employment, for he himself was to detail the comparative ease with which a discharged excise officer could find a job when he came to write his Case of the Excise Officers a few years later. 

The easy transition of a qualified Officer to the ‘Cornpting-House’ or at least to a School-Master, at any time, as it naturally supports and backs his Indifference about the Excise, so it takes off all Punishment from the Order whenever it happens. 

Paine might have sought a teaching appointment in a country town such as Thetford or Afford, each of which maintained a notable school, but London seems always to have retained its magnetism for him. He had already lived there long enough to know the metropolis reasonably well and to appreciate that it offered the greatest scope for new employment; and it may have seemed the most attractive centre for his future studies. It was in London that John Wesley had his own church and this was sited not far from that other building to which Paine proposed soon to address himself — the Excise Office in Broad Street. 

It is one of the stranger aspects of the story of Thomas Paine that the outstanding failure in his life — his personal religious struggle to promote a free community of men happily together in the light of the dispensations of a Supreme Being — has been largely lost to sight in the conventional accounts of his political struggles, which were but the means by which he strove to advance his mission. Not even the pioneer work of Moncure Conway, who first recognised religious motivation as the driving force in Paine’s life, has done much to dispel the general prejudice that Paine was primarily a secular revolutionary; yet Paine, the political innovator, was merely the working guise of Paine the idealistic preacher. John Wesley originated the Methodist practice of associating humanitarianism with assemblies of religious harmony; his follower, Thomas Paine, went much further and saw that religious harmony and social fulfilment were two equally important sides of a single golden coin representing the wealth of a happy contented people. 

It was during the years after Alford and prior to his emigration that we can now see most clearly the original Paine, and can glimpse the pattern of his probable development had Fate dealt more kindly with him. Although already scarred, Paine then looked at life with compassion blended with quizzical humour, and would probably have made his mark as an influential and popular commentator on human affairs, pointing the way towards amelioration of the common lot. But that was not the path which would have led Paine to the great historic part he was to play in world affairs. In his later life, like John Bunyan and George Fox before him, he was to feel that Providence had taken a special interest in him and had intervened to influence his progress; indeed it may have been because he felt himself unable fully to comprehend the mysterious working of the Divinity in his own life that he did not publish an autobiography. And if there was one critical incident in which the Divinity covertly intervened to direct Paine’s path towards his destiny, it was surely in his diversion from the standard excise life and into intellectual originality. After leaving Afford and returning to London, Paine would have returned naturally to the circles in which he had moved before going to Dover, and it would have been his old Methodist friends whose ‘disinterested kindness’, to borrow Oldys’s words, helped Paine into his next profession of school teaching which was to become the springboard from which he made his great leap forward towards the spectacular achievements that lay ahead of him. 

It was in July 1766, barely ten months after his dismissal from Alford, that Paine addressed himself to the Excise Commissioners. It is one of the unexplained inconsistencies in his story, which in most respects is poorly illustrated by personal documents, that Paine’s application to them has long been known in full. It was first published as early as 1817 by Richard Celine, an admirer of his political career who was persecuted and imprisoned for publishing Paine’s writings although he did not accept his religious opinions. Celine did not indicate how he learned the contents of Paine’s restoration application, but it is likely that the source was Paine himself. The application read: 

London, July 3, 1766. 

Honourable Sirs,

In humble obedience to your honours’ letter of discharge bearing date August 29, 1765, I delivered up my commission and since that time have given you no trouble. I confess the justice of your honours’ displeasure and humbly beg to add my thanks for the candour and lenity with which you at that unfortunate time indulged me. And though the nature of the report and my own confession cut off of expectations of enjoying your honours’ favour then, yet I humbly hope it has not finally excluded me therefrom, upon which hope I presume to entreat your honours’ to restore me. The time I enjoyed my former commission was short and unfortunate — an officer only a single year. No complaint of the least dishonesty or intemperance ever appeared against me; and, if I am so happy as to succeed in this, my humble petition, I will endeavour that my future conduct shall as much engage your honours’ approbation as my former has merited your displeasure. 

I am, your honours’ most dutiful humble servant, 

Thomas Paine. 

The board’s minutes for the following day, July 4th record: 

Thomas Paine, late Officer of Alford Outride Grantham Collection having petitioned to Board praying to be restored, begging Pardon for the Offence for which he was Discharged and promising diligence in future; Ordered that he be restored on a proper vacancy. 

Paine’s history was given newspaper publicity in September 1871 when The Scotsman printed a letter from Mr. B. F. Dun, who had been for many years an officer in the excise. This letter first disclosed the Board’s misleading minute of Paine’s dismissal from Alford which Dun had seen on a visit to Somerset House [where the records were stored], and this fresh item about Paine attracted journalistic comment from G. J. Holyoake, who apparently received a further letter from Dun which the latter passed on to Moncure Conway. Dun seems merely to have disclosed the dismissal minute, expressed routine departmental opinions, and given a short conventional biographical sketch of Paine which included his previously-known restoration application in full as a natural sequel to the dismissal minute. But Dun’s connection with the excise induced Conway to overate him as an informant, with the result that instead of subjecting Dun’s account to critical scrutiny, Conway welcomed it at face value as supplying additional authentic information beyond that already publicised by Oldys. 

There are several points arising from Paine’s restoration petition which call for consideration when reconstructing his position at this time. The first is the address at the top of his letter, the single word London. No experienced person in any age addresses to a government office an appeal which he hopes will elicit a favourable reply, without making arrangements to be informed of the response. There is but one logical conclusion to be drawn from Paine’s use of this single word address, he addressed his letter from the London Excise Office itself during personal attendance there, and arranged to call again as necessary to be informed of any progress. 

It would have been quite inconsistent with the detailed vetting Paine had to undergo on first applying for an excise appointment, if there had been no formal re-appraisal before re-appointment after an alleged offence incurring dismissal, with its consequent heavy blot on his official character. Perusal of the exercise archives reveals a number of instances of applicants for restoration failing to pass this second vetting, and where reasons for rejection are recorded, inquiries into personal solvency figure prominently. Yet Paine’s formal application dated July 3 was approved by the Board on the following day; the circumstances indicated by this apparently swift processing of his application are not difficult to envisage when the ways of the excise are taken into account. 

Instead of conducting his restoration application by letters submitted through the post, Paine initiated his attempt by a personal call at the central office, where he would have been interviewed by the official responsible for such matters, who at the time was a Mr. Earle. Paine’s record would have been examined, and any necessary enquiries conducted by Earle, who would have invited a formal application from Paine on their satisfactory conclusion, which Paine therein made out on the spot In accordance with standard excise routine his letter would have been headed by the name of the office of origin; thus the single word London was all that was necessary. 

The tone of Paine’s petition has surprised some commentators, who have thought it servile; but his repeated expressions of humility has occasioned no raised eyebrows amongst excisemen, in the experience of the present writer. For Paine’s letter is a perfect example of the style Commissioners are believed to consider fitting in addresses to their august selves. It is highly probable that the petition was phrased on the advice, and possibly dictation, of Earl. Paine’s own character shows only where he claims he was never accused of dishonesty or intemperance, and thereby excludes any admission of having stamped a survey [having stamped an interest as having been taxed but not having actually been so]. 

Earl would have re-examined the circumstances of Paine’s dismissal scarcely two months after processing Swallow’s [William Swallow, Paine’s supervisor) appointment as supervisor at Caister following restoration, and in 1766 he was probably better informed than Paine himself about the outcome of the affair at Alford. As a responsible headquarters official with experience in personnel and disciplinary matters, had been aware of Swallow’s admitted misconduct at Afford [Swallow was later himself dismissed having admitted faking the charges against Paine]. It is to be observed that the board’s minute restoring Paine speaks of his begging pardon for his offence, although he had not done so; it is likely that Earle under-wrote his petition by a reports based on a personal interview which gave this impression, and that he did so to obviate any possible reluctance on the part of the commissioners to refuse the application. That Paine’s petition struck the right note with the board is demonstrated by the remarkable swiftness of its acceptance, and the fact that it took place only a day after Paine submitted it is a further strong indication that he penned it in the excise office and did not submit it through the post. John Tucker, another discharged officer, whose application for restoration was considered at the same time as Paine’s, does not appear to have been as well advised about the appropriate style of petitions as Paine had been, and he did not conform to the requisite ritual grovelling; the minute recording Tucker’s failure immediately follows that detailing Paine’s success. 

Restoration did not confer swift re-appointment to an excise station, and Paine would surely have had his name added to a waiting list there was nothing he could do now except to wait patiently for a summons to return to the service, but in order to ensure that the summons when it was eventually issued should reach him, it was necessary for him to register his private address with the board and keep the central office informed of any subsequent change in personal circumstances during the waiting period. Paine therefore would have reported his post-restoration addresses and movements for inclusion in his personal file; there Oldys found them in due course when he was given access to that file, and he abstracted for publication such details as suited his purpose. 

Oldys cognisance of Paine’s excise records explains very simply his remarkable proficiency as the first biographer of Paine, and his ability to disclose details which other biographers have not been able to verify should have pointed to the air source of his information. However, as Paine had no reason to declare his movements between his first dismissal and his restoration, Oldys was not informed of this period from excise sources, and it was probably to cover his ignorance about those months that he depicted Paine as having been penniless and homeless at that time. 

There is an interesting error of fact in the Oldys account of Paine’s restoration. Whereas the board’s minute books establish absolutely that Paine was restored on July 4, Oldys dates that event as July 11, although the manner of writing the figure 4 in the minute book precludes any confusion with 11. The working system in the personnel section is detailed in the excise archives. It was the task of the clerks to translate the board’s decisions into appropriate instructions and letters, and this could only be done after the minutes of the day had been written up and passed to them. The restoration minute bears the appropriate tick, the initials of the supervising official appear on the page, and these marks and the subsequent note ‘he has had notice’ are indications of subsequent action which would not have been completed for a few days, and would have appeared in Paine’s file where Oldys would have found it recorded. In that file the completion of action was probably dated July 11, and Oldys mistook this date for the restoration date itself. 

The further details Paine registered with the board after his restoration had been approved, enabled Oldys to reveal significant facts about the ensuing period, which was a very important one in Paine’s life; for it was now that he was able to extend his education and prepare himself for his great intellectual advances. Oldys informs us that he began to teach at the great academy kept by Mr. Noble in Goodman’s Fields, earning a salary of twenty pounds a year, with an allowance of another five pounds for finding his own lodgings in nearby WhItechapel at the house of a hairdresser named Oliver. 

Daniel Noble, Paine’s new mentor, was one of a group of Baptist ministers who included Arminian views in their philosophy, and he would this have been amicably disposed towards Wesleyan Arminians, from whom may have come the recommendation that led to him employing Paine as an assistant However, it may have been that Paine had taught in other places during the ten months when his movements remain unknown to us, and that he worked his way up to Noble’s establishment through experience of teaching in lesser schools. 

The dissenting academies owed their origin to the Act of Conformity of 1662 which had forbidden dissenting ministers to teach in established colleges and had driven them to found their own centres of learning. Their original attitudes of mind had guided their academies to a much higher standard of instruction than was to be found in the long established grammar schools such as the one Paine had himself attended at Thetford. The main impetus was not conditional on proficiency in the latin language, but was placed upon developments in the scientific world; in consequence, some of the clearest-sighted and most influential men of the country were glad to send their sons to these academies, which accepted adherents of all faiths, and were rated by many progressive minds as superior to universities. 

In this fresh environment, and at the comparatively late age of twenty-nine, Paine at last had access to the new learning of his day, and was able to join whole-heartedly in the study and evaluation of advances in scientific knowledge. Astronomy figured high in his interests, and he himself recorded that as soon as he was able he had purchased a pair of globes and attended philosophical lectures, where he would have made the acquaintance of some of the most notable astronomers of his day, and perhaps established contact with other pupils of note. His close associated of later days, Thomas Rickman, was himself to record: 

I remember when once speaking of the improvement he gained in the above capacities and some other lowly situations he had once been in, he made the observation: °Here I derived considerable Information; indeed I have seldom passed five minutes of my life, however circumstanced, in which I did not acquire some knowledge’. 

Education is most swiftly accomplished in the early years of life. As spring is the season when nature reproduces last year’s foliage in quick green growth, so is youth the time when the knowledge’ our forefathers slowly gathered is most easily re-created by progressive study under the guidance of teachers. But even brilliant young students may not develop Into skilful practitioners until student days are left behind and they approach their work from practical angles. There are differences which can produce varying attitudes to problems from relatively unquestioning students and objectively viewing operatives, and these are perhaps never more impeding than when a practical man becomes a scholar. Difficulties that may not occur to an academic student may then arise out of his remembered experience to hinder smooth acceptance of progressive tuition. Because his practical mind already reaches out from intermediate stages, he is less likely to be able to accept scholastic opinions as secure platforms by which to advance towards his goal. 

Paine not only had a mind thirsty for knowledge, but he possessed also a varied background against which to set his new ideas. In the ten years that had elapsed since he left his parental home, his restive spirit had led him into many situations. He had worked in town and country, at sea and on land; he had been apprentice and master-tradesman, religious convert and preacher, he had been stay-maker, privateersman, class-leader, exciseman and now schoolmaster, and he may have followed other professions as well since Rickman referred to ‘some other lowly situations he had been in’ without specifying them. 

A man who comes late to the fount of contemporary knowledge has to struggle harder than his youthful contemporaries if he is to benefit fully from his opportunity; but if such a man succeeds, he acquires erudition more widely and more soundly based than theirs, for in the process he will have worked out within his own mind and from his own initiative many more problems than they; and in overcoming these additional difficulties he develops an indigenous momentum of thought which carries him forward more swiftly than his fellows. This enables him to appreciate the wider implications of new concepts, to relate them to the every-day world he already knows and understands, and to realise how they will be viewed by the ordinary people who inhabit it. 

As his comment to Rickman makes clear, Paine used his return to the scholastic sphere to expand his existing knowledge; he would also have been able to fill in some of the gaps in his original schooling that had resulted from the restricting tenets of his Quaker father, and to re-examine questions that had troubled him, such as the concept of redemption which had perplexed his childish mind. He would not have been concerned to construct a basic philosophy as a young student might have been, but rather to test and advance the views he had already worked out during his chequered career to date. In a dissenting academy headed by a minister, Paine would have had opportunities not only to acquaint himself with the progress of science, but also to study the early history of Christianity. The new ideas he encountered did not disturb his basic belief in God, but they seem to have stimulated re-appraisal of the attitudes of the Anglican Church. Paine’s analytical mind began to identify pagan traditions that had been grafted onto the original teaching of Jesus by church-makers; this had probably happened when pagan communities had been absorbed into the expanding early Christian church as their members had accepted the essence of the message of Jesus, but had retained their festivities and superstitions deriving from their interpretation of the annual waning and waxing of the sun, and of other important natural phenomena.

Paine reversed this process, and began to reject these additions, streamlining his personal religion into a simpler faith revolving around the ideas he found good in the philosophy of Christ This simplified Christianity did not conflict with the emergent scientific view of the universe, which Paine eagerly studied with the help of his newly acquired globes under the guidance of the astronomers whose lectures he was now able to attend. As a schoolmaster he now had facilities for after-school studies, whereas during his earlier period in London (as a journeyman staymaker) he had worked daily for from six in the morning till eight at night But as, and probably because, his own beliefs became strengthened through simplification, he found it difficult to countenance and excuse the indecision in lesser minds thrown into confusion by conflict between paganised Christianity and scientific concepts, and deplored the attitudes who became more confused they more they studied. A few years earlier, when Paine began to express in print his views as they had so far evolved, he developed the forceful style which was to become the hall mark of his major writings. From a careful sympathetic arrangement of his premises, he proceeded swiftly to his conclusions, and punched home his message in striking phrases that seized the imagination of his readers: 

Among the various Kinds of Idolatry we have upon record, that of worshipping the heavenly bodies, seems of all others the most plausible and rational. Consider the Sun as an immense fountain of light and heat, ripening by his influence into lie and action all the several tithes of the animal, mineral, and vegetable kingdoms, and you may, I think, easily conceive how obvious and natural it was for the uninstructed heathen to mistake such a body for the God of this lower world. I remember at school being much pleased with Herodotus’s worshippers of the Moon, waiting to hail and welcome their rising Goddess with all the festivities of music, dancing &c., they were really Idolaters of taste. In all the grand machinery of the creation, I hardly know so fine an object as the rising full moon, especially in summer. After an oppressively hot day, which has thrown a languor upon both mind and body, can anything equal the coming of a grateful evening mild”, ushered in by such a glorious harbinger? What exquisite painting! What scenery! A very bulgy of nature, One of her richest repasts; Every sense seems regaled, every faculty harmonised and disposed to favour thought and reflection. And yet how lost, how utterly lost is all this to millions and millions? Why? Because we all look through different glasses; one has the lens of his (mind’s) eye so thick and horny that he sees no objects distinctly. Some view everything through the medium of gain; others through the misty glass of sensual pleasure. Some are blinded by ambition, others drunk and besotted by Intemperance. But of all, one is most vexed by these who are TOO SHARP-SIGHTED TO SEE, or, in other words, who have too much learning to have any taste at all, who are so bewildered in the labyrinth of science falsely so-called, that they are lost to everything worthy of their notice. Admirable work this!, to be learnedly stupid. A man in such a case is like a warrior pressed to death with the weight of his own armour. 

The works of Herodotus, the Greek historian and traveller whose descriptions made a strong impression on Paine’s mind, were available in translation when Paine was ‘at school’ in the academies of Noble and Gardner; the importance attached to them is evidenced by the prefatory comment of the translator Isaac Littlebury that Herodotus first advanced history from fable and poetic fiction to ‘true dignity and lustre’. Paine probably used such translations and other kindred works to trace the residual forms of ancient practices in contemporary dogma. Philosophers of old had always been strongly influenced by the paramount importance of the sun in human affairs, and had progressed to a study of other celestial bodies, as the standing stones of Stonehenge and the massive sextant carved in the rock near Samakand bear witness, and, as the horoscopes widely printed in our own day confirm, such influences are slow to lose their grip. But Paine was an original thinker, and instead of becoming over awed by the immensities of the skies, his flexible mind found confirmation of divine purpose in the minutiae of Creation as well as its most significant manifestations: 

One of the loudest Infidel batteries that have been ptay’d off against revealed religion, is that it abound in mysteries. It is absurd (they say) to require our faith in matters confessedly above the reach of our understanding”. The objection, at first sight, appears formidable enough, but it will be found, upon examination, to carry with it very little or no force at all. Whether a thing exists, and how it exists, are certainly two very different enquiries. Even among the objects of sense, which we may be supposed to be the best acquainted with, are every moment forced to acknowledge numberless truths, which, with the uttermost stretch of our faculties, we can no way fully conceive, nay, which we have hardly any competent idea of at all. The various modifications of matter, the exquisite mechanism, and organisation of animal and vegetable bodies, &c, are (as to their first rationale) utter secrets to us, and so they will ever remain. A single blade of grass is as effectual a puzzle-wit for all the philosophers on earth, as is Its Solar System, and twenty other Systems added to it. 

The originality of mind Paine first displayed in his religious writing was later to find expression in his secular works also. Historians, like students of Nature, were drawn naturally to the influence of the Suns; and it was not by accident that Louis XIV of France became known as the Sun IGng, and that English history, even in the twentieth century, has been presented mainly in terms of the sovereign and his entourage. But modern commentators are coming to place less weight upon central authority and greater emphasis upon the effects by plebeian personalities. As long ago as the eighteenth century Thomas Paine had the vision to see the divine patterns in the minute as well as in the enormous, and he was one of the earliest to appreciate the potential goodness of the human spirit even in its modest manifestations in the minds of ordinary people. He realised that effective power could spring from such tiny units if peaceful persuasion could induce coalescence of a multitude of them in a common concerted purpose, and an understanding of how such persuasion could be exercised was to come to his mind over the following years. As Trevelyan has indicated, the beginnings of democracy as we know it are all traceable to the writings of Thomas Paine, and the power of this new force in domestic politics was to grow as his work was to become known to the general public through the mass distribution of cheap editions of his books, which Paine was always keen to promote. 

RETURN TO THE EXCISE 

Although the progression on Paine’s thinking may have been continuous, his career was destined to embrace a number of disjointed episodes, and in May 1767 he faced again the prospect of a change in his way of life when the opportunity arose for him to return to the Excise. In the Cornish town of Grampound, George Chappell the resident exciseman had been ill for some months, and when his supervisor reported that he was unlikely to be able to resume his duties, the Excise Board decided that he should be retired under the pension arrangements of the day. As no other exciseman had applied for the vacancy, the Commissioners turned for a successor to the waiting list, at the head of which now appeared the name of Thomas Paine, who was duly appointed. The Grampound post was a town division, otherwise known as a footwalk, which rated above an outride, so the posting was in the nature of a promotion for Paine as well as restoration to active service. 

The term footwalk indicated an excise station where the work was sufficiently concentrated to be covered by foot instead of on horseback; but any impression of comparatively easy travelling which this seems to imply is misleading, for footwalks could be far from comfortable postings. The Commissioners had considered the ambulatory powers of their officers, and set the limits of footwalks as up to twelve miles overall for regular traders and up to sixteen for those visited occasionally, so town officers commonly walked up to twelve miles a day, with an extra four thrown in now and again for variety. It is not surprising that after being ill for several months Chappell was thought to be incapable of copying with the excise work in Grampound. 

Lack of competition for the vacancy may have reflected the character of the town and its reputation amongst visitors. John Wesley preached there, and recorded an unfriendly reaction from the mayor, who asked him to move on. Such surly resentment of newcomers may have been a feature of local attitudes at the time, which an incoming exciseman might have had to face also. The operation of political bribery at parliamentary elections furnishes another illustration of the local atmosphere; one freeman of Grampound received more than one hundred pounds in cash during the six years preceding the election of 1754 to secure his vote. Local worthies accustomed to be treated with such exaggerated consideration could have been prickly customers of the exciseman, and throughout Cornwall these revenue officers had become accustomed to performing their duties with scant regard for the procedures decreed by the Board for the protection of the revenue. And Grampound, like Alford, was a one man excise station where the exciseman was thrown largely on to his own resources. Paine, as a restored officer, would have been particularly vulnerable to official repercussions if he was again represented as being at fault by his superiors or by influential local traders. 

Paine may have had some idea of the peculiar excise conditions in Cornwall, which were so unusual that rumours about them must have circulated in the service; he may have consulted Earle and had been informed about them, or he could have made contact with London excisemen to keep himself familiar with service conditions in order to facilitate his eventual return to duty. Alternatively he may have been sufficiently wrapped up in his current activities to wish to continue them. Whatever his reasons, Paine decided against Grampound and requested to be allowed to await a further vacancy. His rejection of the proposed appointment was probably a wise one, as events were to demonstrate.

In the summer of the following year the Board ordered a general inspection of the Cornwall Collection which was organised in four districts under its collector, and was probably administered by between forty and fifty local officers. As a result of the consequent report, the collector and one supervisor were dismissed, the three remaining supervisors were reduced to officers and removed to other collections, two officers were dismissed, twenty-seven reprimanded and six admonished. The supervisor Truro, whose district included Grampound was dismissed; he was reported as having been remiss in Grampound in particular, where he rarely bothered to re-gauge important brewing vessels to ensure that beer duty was accurately charged, and the interchangeable letters in his stamp for marking hides, which should have been periodically changed as a safeguard against malpractice, had not been varied in thirteen years and had become rusted in their positions. The supervisor at Launceston was demoted to one of the town divisions at Lewes in Sussex, where he would have been able to recount the slaughter of the Cornish excisemen to his Lewes colleagues, amongst whom was numbered at that time Paine himself, who was probably thankful to have escaped being involved in the debacle. 

As Paine sought restoration in the summer of 1766, only ten months after being dismissed, he must have seriously considered returning; but from movements he subsequently reported to the Board, Oldys was able to recount: 

Paine’s desire of preaching now returned on him: but applying to his old master for a certificate of his qualifications to the bishop of London. Mr. Noble told him that since he was only an English scholar, he could not recommend him as a proper candidate for ordination in the church. Our adventurer, however, determined to persevere in his purpose, without regular orders. And he preached in Moorfields, and in various populous places in England, as he was urged by his necessities, or directed by his spirit. 

A contemporary account of aspiring Methodist preachers at Moorfields is to be found in the memoirs of the publisher, James Lackington, who was at the time estranged from the Methodist movement to which he owed his start in business, and to which he later returned. Some latitude is therefore called for when considering his unfavourable comments, and his disparagement of itinerant Methodist preachers whom he depicted as frequently lodging at the houses of sympathetic widows, and readily abandoning their itinerancy if offered a permanent home by one of them. An essay by Paine entitled Forgetfulness, which he probably wrote many years later and which was preserved by being copied by a friend, also sheds some light on Paine’s movements at this time. In it he speaks of himself being ‘about the summer of 1766’ in a fenland village and lodging with a widow who was also sheltering a young lady in a depressed frame of mind following an unhappy love affair. Paine mentioned these circumstances because he was able to dissuade the young lady from an attempt at suicide, but in the present context they serve as an indication that Paine could already have been engaged in itinerant preaching about the time he applied for restoration in the Excise. 

If Paine was already a circuit preacher in the summer of 1766, it means that he had been approved by the Methodist organisation. His practical experience and his repeated changes in his way of life would have indicated his adaptability, and hence his suitability for a nomadic life, and his experience of riding the difficult sunken roads of Eastern England as an exciseman would have made him a natural choice for East Anglican circuits. Paine possibly returned to Alford as an itinerant preacher about a year after he left it; he may have learned what had happened to Swallow after his own departure, and he may also have played a part in preparing the ground for the establishment of a Methodist group in the town, which was to come about within few more years. 

At this critical stage in his life, it seems that Paine stood at a crossroads, with the separate paths of two different professions — the Excise and the Methodist ministry — diverging before him. But it would seem that he had not yet decided which path he would follow although he would soon have to make up his mind to which he proposed to devote the rest of his life. It is suggested here that the reason for his delaying his decision was his desire to pursue his evangelistic career as an ordained minister, a course which John Wesley encouraged his lay ministers to follow, and until he has ascertained his prospects for ordination Paine preferred to keep both his options open. 

An attempt can now be made to reconstruct Paine’s position at this period, using as a basis the Oldys account, which would have drawn upon dated information given by Paine to the Excise Office:

Mr. Noble relinquished Paine, without much regret, to Mr. Gardner, and then taught a reputable school at Kensington; yet, owing to whatever cause, he here acted as usher only the first three months of 1767. 

The adverse slant of Oldy’s writings cannot conceal Noble’s regret at Paine’s departure in early 1767, and it is also dear that Paine’s assistance was sought by a school of considerable standing, although nothing is further known about Mr. Gardner, its proprietor. Since Paine returned to Noble, a minister, when seeking a recommendation to the bishop of London in the spring of 1767 at the time of leaving Gardner, it is clear that Paine decided to test his prospects in the church about the time when he would have been preparing for another summer as an itinerant Methodist minister. In May 1767, when the excise station at Grampound was offered to him, Paine may have wished to hold himself readily available for ordination-studies, and it would have been for this reason that he decided against departing for distant Cornwall. And since the only known reason why Noble did not recommend him for ordination is his lack of classical education, Paine may well have concluded that the ministry was not closed to him, and that his chance of acceptance would be greatly enhanced if he added proficiency in the classics to his growing erudition. 

The Oldys account leaves little room to doubt that Paine was again a circuit preacher in the summer of 1767. Great interest would attach to any reliable accounts of Paine’s preaching style, as they would indicate his approach to his listeners; even Oldys gives a hint in his remark that Paine preached ‘as directed by his spirit’, for Paine’s spirit was characterised by originality, and his sermons may have been arresting. But the scant references to his work in the field which have survived give no indication of his effectiveness beyond intimating that he was at last adequate in his addresses. However it is probable that Paine found a return to an itinerant life precluded continuation of the rapid advances in self-education that he had enjoyed during his periods as a schoolmaster in London. If acquisition of the classics, especially a knowledge of the latin language, had become one of his objectives, he may have found the prospect of another settled period in the Excise increasingly attractive because of the attendant improved facilities for systematic study. 

Paine’s rejection of Grampound probably resulted in his name being returned to the bottom of the list of restored officers awaiting re-appointment, and it took nine months for his name to work its way back to the top. Then, at Abergavenny in Wales, Robert Henry Whitney, after having been seven times reprimanded and thrice admonished in the preceding three years, again incurred censure and was dismissed. The detailed account of the Board’s minute book of the multiple faults of this hardened offender once again highlights the harshness of Paine’s dismissal after an unestablished first offence at Afford. Daniel Jones of Wells Outride in Somerset obtained Abergavenny, and Paine was posted to Somerset, but following receipt of a letter from a certain Edward Dalton, the Board decided on different arrangements. Dalton, the officer at Lewes 4th Outride was now appointed to Abergavanny, Jones was ordered to remain at Wells, and Thomas Paine was appointed to the Lewes vacancy on February 29, 1768. 

Thus a new chapter commenced in Paine’s life that was to have consequences which at the time neither he nor anyone else may have envisaged.

The post Paine At The Crossroads, 1763-1768  appeared first on Thomas Paine Historical Association.

Gender, Religion And Radicalism In The Long Eighteenth Century by Judith Jennings. Illustrated. 204pp. ISBN 0 7546 5500. £55.00 

This excellent book, sub-titled “The ‘Ingenious Quaker’ and Her Connections”, came my way by chance. I enjoyed reading it. 

It is well presented, and beautifully printed. The scholarship is rigorous. The book itself is easy to handle, and the text well written. It is meticulously indexed. 

Although a Quaker I knew nothing of Mary Morris Knowles, sometimes called Molly Knowles, nor of her patient determination to live her faith so fearlessly and – more or less – without pretension. Her constancy shines through the text; so does her single mindedness in holding to her beliefs and mounting her attack when forced so to do without bitterness even when wrongly accused, and always with considerable fortitude. A certain tenacity emerges, but one devoid, apparently, of jealousy or pettiness. 

Born in 1733 as Mary Morris, Knowles was an accomplished eighteenth century artist and writer who struggled successfully to express her gender within the turbulent ups & downs of George the Third’s feign. That vibrant century with its agricultural and industrial revolutions, the emergence of Wesley and English Methodism, the new sciences, the challenge of slavery, the French and American revolutions, Thomas Paine and other enlightened thinkers, but then the loss of the American colonies – could not have been an easy stage on which a woman might make her case, let alone win it. But Knowles was no ordinary woman. She deliberately cultivated new forms of “polite Quakerism” which stood her in good stead throughout life – not least with non-Quakers. She also knew how to use humour so as to subvert traditional Quakerism. 

Knowles was a “middling” woman by way of social standing. But she emerges under the skilful eye of author Jennings (Kentucky Foundation for Women, USA), as a powerful, determined woman who thought for herself and acted accordingly – regardless of class, wealth, or standing.

Because of their commitment to non-violence, their assumption of equality as between men and women, their rejection of titles and honours including clericalism, Quakers who sought social advancement were mostly excluded from-the recognised norms for making progress — the Crown and its royal court, the Church of England, or the military. Their idiosyncratic faith obliged them to find their own way notwithstanding these closed doors. 

Throughout the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries many Quakers turned to industry, commerce, or manufacturing for their living. Increasingly, education and science also became an open and creative field of endeavour for many of them. Mainly because of their honesty and plain speaking they performed brilliantly – as the great banking families of Lloyds and Barclays, the manufacturers Carr (biscuits), Cadbury, Rowntree and Fry (chocolates), Clarke of Street (footwear) and many others, demonstrated: Often the entrepreneurs became embarrassingly wealthy as a consequence of their probity and inventiveness. Power came their way, frequently to their inner embarrassment. 

Knowles, doubly handicapped as a woman and a Quaker, found her way through force of personality, diligence, and clarity of thought. In not a few instances she helped to create or shape prevailing social conditions. 

She chose her own husband when most women did not. Dr. Thomas Knowles was an expert in treating fever, although he would die of it in due course. Their marriage was happy and fulfilling. Knowles was also able to count amongst her personal friends many of the leading Quaker bankers, some of the principle manufacturers and educationalists, many writers and poets. Unusually she was destined to be recognised by the King and became a visitor at court, yet without bending before it. 

Her style was to communicate by way of poetry — the heroic couplet more often than not. She travelled widely, enjoyed good health, engaged in music, and a new form of needlework. In the process she developed her radical politics without rancour or bitterness. Moreover, inner serenity and a blend of gender confidence arising from clear religious convictions formed a solid basis for life. By probing these characteristics in the “most minute of particulars” as Ashmole might have observed, Jennings reveals new insights which rarely appear in the lexicon of standard British history. 

Knowles’ life was punctuated by a handful of events or occasions which became her “concerns” — itself a special word in Quaker philosophy. 

From her twenties she helped to pioneer the new art form of “needle painting”. Later Dr. Johnson was to call her art “the subtle pictures which imitate tapestry”. It changed her life for on seeing examples of her work the Queen, in 1771, invited her to embroider a full size portrait of her husband, King George the Third. It was an outstanding success such that it went into the Royal collection where it remains today. The King, mightily pleased, gave her £800 (sterling) for her endeavours — a considerable sum of money in the eighteenth century. Knowles was also made welcome in court as, a century earlier, had been Wm Penn who founded Pennsylvania but whose father had been an Admiral of the Fleet. 

Both “portraits” and “access to the court” must have been problematic for the Quaker needle painter — but once settled in her mind that her independence had not been compromised, Knowles would not.be diverted. She knew that, “Those who tread in Courts tread in slippery places.” Her commitment to political liberty and all that flows from that concept emerges as the constant of her personal morality. Jennings unravels this process with sound analysis. 

In 1776 Knowles met James Boswell and then the formidable Dr. Samuel Johnson over dinner. Others were present including John Wilkes and his supporter Arthur Lee as well as other radical Whigs. Their host was the liberal Quaker Edward Dilly. Typically, Knowles was the only woman present. 

The American colonies were a major subject for debate — but so therefore were religion and liberty — especially women’s liberty on which subject Johnson was decidedly negative, complex and, at times, contradictory. He placed individual liberty lower than social cohesion and so had little sympathy for the American revolutionaries. 

Knowles’ position was the opposite – she abhorred slavery. Being a Quaker she held it self evident that “that there is that of God in every person”. The Quakers were largely responsible for forming the Anti-Slavery Society which continues the work today. 

Her argument with Johnson and Boswell embraced the case of a young Jamaican woman — Jane Harry — who had decided to quit the Church of England and was later to attend Quaker meetings. Eventually Harry was disowned by her adopted family and was looked after by the Knowles. Knowles directly disputed Johnson’s position. She defended the right of the Jamaican to choose her own religion. She also rebuked Johnson for his negative attitude towards Quakers whom he disparagingly classified as “deists”. The dispute thus laid between them was to rumble on for decades. 

From the outset of their many encounters Knowles steadfastly claimed that Boswell took no notes during much of the argument as to her own contribution, nor when they met again to dispute much the same range of subjects. She maintained that Boswell only wrote later in respect of her contribution from memory. She asserted that he had paraphrased her contribution, getting it wrong in the process. When Boswell and Johnson visited her in 1790 so as to read to her Boswell’s narrative of her earlier meetings with Johnson, Knowles declared that “It was not genuine”. It contained too many “fabrications and suppressions”. Subsequently, she published her own account. Boswell refused to recognise its authenticity. 

It is within the interstices of the arguments which continue over the years that Jennings is able to unveil and pin-point aspects of gender, morality, liberty, freedom for colonists, the social limits of toleration (Harry), the meaning of death, of Quakerism and the like, which other historians have tended to ignore — except with passing reference. Knowles’ analysed issues painstakingly. She drew radical confusions consistent with her spiritual beliefs. Henceforth, Knowles would speak and write carefully, but without restraint and largely in contradiction to what the Doctor claimed, or judged. She gave no quarter whatsoever. 

In June 1788, for example, to take but one typical example, Knowles crafted the verse,

‘Tho various tints the human face adorn,

To glorious Liberty Mankind are born:

0, May the hands which rais’d this fav’rite weed (tobacco)

Be Ioos’d in mercy and the slave be freed!’

Here is what Jennings calls “a female expression of the radical commitment to “glorious liberty”. Knowles viewed liberty as the birthright of all. For her, liberty encompassed politics as well as religion, “liberty had become a rational, non-sectarian, universal, human right”, she wrote. We still need to understand that insight two centuries later. She advocated the freeing of all slaves. She practised and extolled the virtues of her Quakerism; she promoted the virtues of liberty and tolerance, especially for women. 

Knowles discussed Thomas Paine’s Rights of Man Part 1 with her close Quaker friend, Anne Seward. She also quoted from Paine’s Age of Reason that the Quaker taste presided at the Creation “what a drab world we should have had.” (1794) Two years earlier Seward & Knowles had discussed Paine’s Rights of Man Part 11 when the former criticised “Paine’s pernicious and impossible system for equal rights.” This radical difference between the two women gave rise to “sharp tension” for Knowles supported the French Revolution and whole- heartedly approved of Mary Wollstonecraft’s, Vindication of the Rights of Women. 

Motherhood and a happy, secure marriage were critical to Knowles’ understanding of life. She secured and held on to lifelong friendships, not least within the Society of Friends, but also well outside that community. Her verse, her wit, and her fearless but consistent honesty, transcended even her feminism. 

The French Revolution as well as lesser issues were dissected, debated and fought over when necessary. She never backed off. Issues included deism, water baptism, wealth, beauty and public fame, all of which featured in her verses, as well as in her discussions with friends and those experts or commentators whom she met. 

At the end Knowles, now a rich woman, carefully arranged for The transfer of 50 — 60 thousand pounds prior to her death to her son, George, by way of a “Deed of Gift”. Prudent to the end, yet despite having practised “polite Quakerliness” all her life, she was finally assailed by doubt as death approached. She died on the morning of 3rd February 1807, aged 73 years. 

The real virtue of this riveting analysis of a highly intelligent woman who could and did match any man or alleged “expert” who came her way is in the light it shines on the way the great issues of the day were meticulously discussed in homes and saloons, in court and coffee houses by otherwise ordinary men and women. Many of the issues she tackled through her verse, the exchange of letters, or by debate remain to be resolved 200 years later. But as a guiding light Knowles, an extraordinary woman, can be trusted and followed.

The post BOOK REVIEW: Gender, Religion And Radicalism In The Long Eighteenth Century appeared first on Thomas Paine Historical Association.

A biography can follow a personal life-history as honestly or as deviously as suits its author’s purpose, for biographers may be motivated just as strongly against as in favour of their subject. The justification for a biography is that its subject has achieved enough distinction to excite curiosity about the factors in his life, which induced a situation marking parts in the development of many personal lives, and these can become known only in variable degree, even to close associates. It is not very surprising when a man from a distinguished background makes an impact upon the history of this time (although his background does not diminish his title to credit for his achievements), but it is much more intriguing when a man from an apparently common-place background makes a strong impact. Sons born to monarchs, and sons born to prominent dignitaries may reasonably be expected to make a contribution to contemporary society, but members of the lower orders do not inherit springboards from which to launch themselves. Those of undistinguished birth who do achieve enduring fame, whether or not they drive – or were driven by,- the special circumstances with which posterity subsequently associate them, may therefore fall to be judged by serried ranks of undistinguished peers unwilling to award them adequate credit through reluctance to concede that better results than their own have been attained from similar circumstances. As has long been recognised ‘a prophet is’ never without honour save in. his own country and amongst his own people’. So it has been, in considerable measure for Thomas Paine, the man from the people who remained always a man of the people, notwithstanding that he achieved far greater distinction than did most of his fellows. 

To the resentment of those of similar social standing to himself, who felt – and still feel in their subconscious minds, that his exceptional success underlined their own mediocrity, there must be added the open hostility shown by members of the upper classes who could not bring themselves to recognise that greater intellectual powers could emanate from a man of lower social ranking. To these, any rod was a suitable one with which to belabour the upstart stay-maker turned excise officer, later driven by intellectual hostility into rebellion against the Crown that failed to reciprocate his loyalty. And since Paine was modest about his private life. A circumstance which greatly contrasted with his justified pride in his immensely popular writing — his personal life was an avenue to which his enemies and detractors have turned en masse when seeking to off-set the great unassailable support his writings elicited from the numerous thinkers then emerging from the populace. Within Paine’s little-known private life, there was no important aspect less familiar to the public than the marriages which had been central to his early life in England, and so it was the matrimonial field which was selected as the location for the most virulent attacks upon his personal character. 

Paine’s experience of marriage, that of his parents as well as his own, did greatly influence him, just as it greatly influences the great majority of other Englishmen; and it is therefore appropriate to take another look at all three of these, within the broad context of feminine influence upon him during his formative years; for greater insight into this aspect of his life has slowly accrued to us, and has conferred an ability to make a more fair assessment thereon than Paine has generally received from earlier writers. 

Paine’s parents, Joseph Pain and his wife Frances, came from two very different backgrounds; Joseph was a farmer’s son and a practising Quaker, Frances was daughter to an attorney and a member of the Established Church. Their points of contact are not easily imagined, but were obviously sufficient to allow them to move towards wedlock. They seem to have resolved their religious differences through toleration of each other’s opinions. Frances’s view was allowed to prevail when they decided the mode and location of their marriage, and Joseph’s yielding to her wishes was a reasonable masculine deferment to her natural concerns that their wedding should be recognised by her family and friends; but Joseph’s choice of a bride from outside the Quaker community brought him into disfavour with his own religious confreres, who are thought to have expelled him from formal membership of their Society. However, this would not have debarred Joseph and his family from attendance at Quaker meetings. 

Joseph and Frances were married on June 20, 1734 in the parish church at Euston, just outside Thetford. Joseph was twenty-six on his wending day, and his bride was eleven years older. According to Oldys [George Chalmers], the biographer who found out most about Paine’s family, Frances possessed a sour temper and was an eccentric character, and later commentators have sometimes drawn the conclusion that Joseph contracted an unhappy marriage, but this opinion is probably ill-founded, as is explained below, and there is no positive reason to suppose that the marriage was other than normally stable and happy. Thomas was born after two years of wedlock to a mother aged thirty-nine, and was followed eleven months later by a sister, who did not survive infancy. Understandably, in view of Frances’s age, there were no more children born to the union, which continued without known loss of harmony until Joseph died in 1788 at the age of seventy- eight; Frances survived him by nearly three years, living to the grand old age of more than ninety. 

Joseph Pain probably received a great deal of help from his wife in the course of his business, for Oldys speaks of ‘fitting stays for the ladies of Thetford’. At that time, corsets were worn continually until they were worn out, and they were never cleaned. The fitting of these foundation garments would have called for considerable tact, and a working wife would have been necessary for a small stay maker; certainly, a woman such as Oldys represented Frances to have driven customers away, and the family business would scarcely have survived. George Fox, the founder of the Quakers, and Joseph% constant source of guidance, had expressed Quaker opinion on such matters: ‘There are many things proper for a woman to look after, both in their families and concerning women, which are not so proper for the men; which modesty in women cannot so well speak of before men as they can amongst their own sex’. Undoubtedly, the matrons of Thetford would have addressed themselves more readily to Frances than to Joseph when they needed a new corset. 

Thetford was an old town and the government maintained a constant presence in it, for an excise officer was stationed there. Excise offices were usually located at inns and when Paine was born it was at The Swan, though the following year it was moved to another inn, The Cock. Thomas would have been familiar with the excise presence from his earliest days and Oldys suggested that in his early youth he enquired about the duties of the excise men.

Later in life, when Paine returned to Thetford and applied for an excise appointment, his application would have entailed placing on record a considerable amount of information regarding his personal circumstances, and this would have been fully disclosed to Oldys when the Excise Head Office was instructed to cooperate with him in his privileged researches into Paine’s life and excise experience. Thus it was Paine himself who supplied much of the information drawn on by Oldys for his book, though it was adversely slanted by him, but every biographer of Paine since has turned to his biography for information; but it is not necessary to accept it blindly and without consulting contemporary information from sources Oldys found convenient to ignore. For example, he disclosed that Paine had not been baptised, but he did not make known to the public that this was sufficiently common in excise applicants (in those days) for the Excise Commissioners to have provided for alternative evidence of an applicant’s age to be acceptable for ensuring that it fell within the strictly prescribed limits. Family evidence, such as an entry in a family bible, was the favoured alternative, but all alternative evidence of age was required to be vetted by an investigating supervisor (a senior excise official), who had to reconcile it with visual indications, and have it confirmed by formal declarations before magistrates. When Paine applied to join the excise service his mother would have been visited by a mature official who studied her face and inquired why she was so much older-looking than he had expected, and why there had ‘been variations in the baptismal practices of her children, and he would have demanded legal statements in support of her replies. Such probing into her personal life might have seemed highly impertinent to Frances, and if she gave sharp replies, the investigator would have recorded them as evidence of Paine’s family background, and in due course they would have been made known to Oldys. Such is the likely basis for the adverse comments he made about Frances. 

Paine separated himself from the direct influence of the unusual marriage of his diverse parents when he left Thetford whilst still a young man, having found himself dissatisfied by the hum-drum life of an assistant to his father in the stay making business, and went to sea, but returned to the stay making craft for a while in London, at which stage in life he probably joined the new Christian sect we now know as Wesleyan Methodism, which was then growing within the Established Church. Methodism took root and spread most swiftly within the concentrations of workers who had entered the new industries spawned by the Industrial Revolution; many of them keenly missed the social support they had known in cottage industries now superseded, and they found an answer to their need in Methodism. Much of the credit for the movement’s success is due to the genius of its leader John Wesley, whose novel technique for integrating local groups into an internally- communicating national organisation was soon copied by other movements seeking to integrate workers. 

Well-known features of modern trade-unionism such as the membership card and regular local subscriptions are of Methodist origin. Wesley’s local societies were the fore-runners of local union branches, each guided by a class leader who collected a penny a week from every member. Each society also elected its own officers and took a lively interest in the welfare of every individual member. Membership was formally acknowledged by a ‘ticket which conferred membership nationally as well as locally and thus served as a ‘passport’. It is probable that Paine availed himself of such a Methodist ‘passport’ when he moved from London to Dover in 1758, and there entered into employment with another stay maker, Mr. Grace, a prominent Methodist in the town. Indeed, he may even have heard of the vacancy in Dover through the Methodist grape-vine. 

The Methodist Recorder for August 16, 1906, described Mr. Grace as the Dover class-leader, and that he took Paine to class with him. On one occasion a preacher failed to turn up and Paine was invited to take his place. It is interesting that Grace did not himself take the missing preacher’s place but delegated the job to Paine. Clearly he had decided that Paine was worthy to stand before his fellow Methodists, but it is unlikely that this was solely on his own judgement, for there was another member of his household whose advice would have been highly influential, Miss Grace, his niece, a lady of outwardly meek behaviour, but who was driven by an implacable will. She had already demonstrated her concern to further Methodism by converting her uncle, and she was probably the strongest influence on Paine. She has been frequently misrepresented by Paine biographers as the daughter of Mr. Grace, a precedent maliciously set by Oldys which others have ineptly followed. Oldys also foolishly imputed a romantic attachment between her and Paine, although at the time of his sojourn in Dover she was probably being courted by the first of her two husbands. But she was undoubtedly a strong influence on Paine at the time, and she is long overdue for depiction in his story.

Miss Grace was born about May 1735 and was brought up in Wakefield, where she scandalised her parents by attending a Methodist service in a public house. They thought her insane and threatened to have her confined in an asylum if she attended again, but on reflection decided to send her to live with her uncle in Dover, where Methodism had not quite arrived, but it soon did and Miss Grace attended its first service there held in a cooper’s shop about 1755. Now it was her uncle’s turn to remonstrate with her and he too banned her from attending but she ignored the ban. He then reported the matter to her family in Wakefield which brought her mother to Dover. But this too failed to prevent the girl attending the meetings, and eventually she converted her uncle! 

Paine moved to Sandwich, but the town was in the doldrums and a poor prospect for a stay maker. Oldys states that Paine was ‘not the first who had there used the mysteries of stay-making’, and Mr. Grace would have known the fate of Paine’s predecessors in trade and probably had warned him of the risk he was taking, but also probably hoped that Paine would bring hope to the town with his missionary zeal for Methodism. Oldy records that ‘There is a tradition that in his lodging he collected a congregation to whom he preached as an independent, or as a Methodist…’. 

One of Paine’s most urgent needs was for a local source of raw materials, which would have brought him into contact with Richard Solly, the town’s woollens draper, his visit would also have afforded him an opportunity to make known his evangelical mission and issue invitations to his meetings. Solly’s wife Maria seems to have become interested in the remarkable new-comer, and just as Miss Grace had taken her uncle to a Methodist meeting in Dover, so did Maria Solly bring her maid an orphan named Mary Lambert, who, according to Oldys, was ‘a pretty girl of modest behaviour’. To her the lonely preacher may have seemed a romantic figure. Five months later Paine and Mary married at St. Peter’s Church, Sandwich, one of the witnesses being Maria Solly. 

The marriage did not last long. Paine may have drawn encouragement from his parent’s union, as they had achieved success although initially appearing to have little in common, but his parents were much more mature on their wedding day than 

Mary, aged twenty-one, and Thomas twenty-two, whose parents had both come from the same locality and had got to know each other over a far longer period than Thomas had known Mary, a mere five months. The pair simply had not had enough time together, nor enough leisure in each other’s company to discuss to adequately discuss their ambitions and domestic prospects. For Mary, the sudden transition from a life in service where many decisions would have been taken for her, to a hectic doubly- demanding existence divided between being a working wife to a newly-established stay-maker, and a supportive wife to an enthusiastic evangelical preacher, must have been traumatic. Many years later, in the June 1775 issue of the Pennsylvania Magazine, Paine published his essay, ‘Reflections on Unhappy Marriages’, and his comments therein seem drawn from the disappointment of his youthful first marriage: 

Those that are undone this way are the young, the rash and amorous, whose hearts are ever glowing with desire, whose eyes are ever roaming after beauty, those dote on the first amiable image that chance throws in their way when the flame is once kindled, would risk eternity itself to appease it. But, still like their first parents, they no sooner taste the tempting fruit, but their eyes are opened: the folly of their intemperance becomes visible; shame -succeeds first, then repentance; but sorrow for themselves soon returns to anger with the innocent cause of their unhappiness. Hence flow bitter reproaches, and keen invectives, which end in mutual hatred and contempt. Love abhors clamour, and soon flies away, and happiness finds no entrance when love is gone. Thus for a few hours of dalliance, I will not call it affection, the repose of all their future days are sacrificed, and those who but just before seem’d to live only for each other, now would almost cease to live, that the separation might be eternal. 

Little is known of Paine’s first marriage except that it was short; and the circumstances of its termination have never been reliably ascertained. The couple are said to have furnished a house with the assistance of Mr. Rutter, an upholsterer, who could have been another supplier of materials to Paine in his business; a house in Sandwich has long been regarded as their abode, but this is not an established fact, and a few months after their wedding, the couple moved to Margate, a busier town where Methodism was also making its appearance. And there Paine’s first marriage seems to have come to an end. 

Oldys sought to portray Paine as a cruel husband, disappointed because Mary, who had been merely a lady’s maid, had bought no fortune, but conceding that Maria Sony remained a benefactress. Oldys also recalls a local tradition that Mary died in childbirth, but this is unsubstantiated, although many writers sympathetic to Paine have seized upon it as the reason for the termination of the union. Finally, Oldys suggested that Mary may have left Paine to live out the rest of her life in obscurity, and this is not only plausible, but is the most probable outcome of his ill-advised, short lived first marriage. Little information has ever come to light, although Oldys availed himself of every assistant he could find, including an antiquary living in Sandwich, and various excise officers in Margate and London. He tried very hard to trace Mary, because Paine’s first marriage and its break-up, offered him the most likely prospect of embarrassing Paine though his private life, but he did succeed in capitalising on this opportunity. However, he did succeed in discovering a lot about Mary’s background (probably through trawling the excise network in south-east England), and elicited the fact that her father had once been an excise officer in the vicinity of Sittingboume, consequently, with the assistance of the surviving excise archives, we can discern some features of Mary’s life and experiences before her marriage to Thomas, from which an outline of her world may be attempted. 

Mary Lambert seems to have been of considerable interest in her own right; she was the only known child of James Lambert and his mentally unstable wife, having been born two years after he was dismissed from the excise station of Milton near Sittingboume. James became first a shop-keeper and then a bailiff for the rest of his life. He died in poor circumstances when Mary was only fifteen years old, and her mother died in an asylum about the same time, thus her situation must have been very difficult. Nevertheless, she made a life for herself, although this entailed crossing the county and entering into service in the Solly household, where six years later she appears to have achieved the status of an accepted companion for Mrs. Solly, going with her to church, and enjoying her mistress’s support both at her marriage and afterwards. Why she came to Sandwich is not dear, but there is a link between Sandwich and Sittingboume through trade, for many of the brick houses in Sandwich had been built of Sittingboume bricks; the distance between the two towns was about thirty miles, and heavy consignments of bricks would have floundered in mud on poor roads if they had been conveyed in horse drawn carts, but both tons had access to functioning wharves along the coast and transport by sea would have been convenient and economic for this trade. The greater part of Lambert’s professional life whilst Mary lived with him was as a bailiff, which would have brought him into contact with disputing parties within this established trade, and he would have been called to Sandwich on occasion and to have met some of the established traders there, possibly including the Sollys. We do not know when Mary’s mother entered a mental home, but as Mary approached school-leaving age, her father may have looked out for vacancies in service for young girls in his area of work, and he may have been the agent arranging Mary’s employment by Mrs. Solly, who is a rather shadowy figure of whom we know little. But Maria SoIly was obviously a warm-hearted woman, possibly lacking a daughter of her own, and she seems to have treated Mary more as an adopted daughter than just a maid. 

When Mary tried to settle down with her very busy husband, and friction began to arise in the marriage, it is quite likely that from a background of a quasi-favoured daughter she stood her ground against Thomas, and noisy quarrels became known to their neighbours, which reflected against Paine as both a stay maker and preacher. Mary, indeed, may seriously have fought to make a success of her marriage, but whether she knew it or not the dice were loaded against her, for her husband probably already had in mind a fixed idea of the wife he thought he needed, and believed he had found in Mary, whose modest behaviour would have initially seemed to reflect that of Miss Grace, the talented niece of his previous employer. But if so, such an expectation would have been unfair, as well as ill-judged. Miss Grace had settled into her uncle’s household before Methodism became a growing part of both their lives, and her later style of living was in the established house of a successful man much more mature in outlook than the young preacher Mary married. Had Paine been similar to John Bunyan, and content to develop his religion with the assistance of his wife, Mary’s marriage might have enjoyed better prospects, but Paine was more akin to George Fox, are zealous to pit himself against a world still hostile in many places to Methodism. Mary may have soon lost heart, and Thomas may well have lost patience; the circumstances of unhappy marriages which Paine later described accord very well with what is known of his swift courtship and hasty marriage to Mary, and with the rapidly deteriorating domestic relationships they soon seem to have found themselves in. 

In such stressful circumstances, the not-distant town of Margate where Methodism was also taking hold, may have offered better domestic prospects from stay making, and hence a firmer basis from which Paine could acquire expanding status a..; a preacher, but clearly any such idea did not work out. There is no indication whether Mary developed similar irrationality to that which had brought her mother into mental care, but having once before made a new start in life, Mary could have felt it was time to do so again, and slipped away to another location where Oldys failed to find her. And Paine probably sought her himself after she had gone missing and similarly failed to find her. However, speculative gossip retailed by Oldys that Mary, now pregnant, had gone to a lying in hospital may have been well-founded although it was not confirmed by his subsequent enquiries. But two entries survive in the records for the nearby Parish of St. Lawrence in Thanet which strongly suggest the presence there of Mary after the presumed break-up date of her marriage; the first is of the baptism on December 7, 1760 of: ‘Pain — Sarah, daughter of Thomas and Mary; the second sadly records that Pain’s daughter did not survive infancy, for in a burial entry reading baldly: Sarah, daughter of Thomas and Mary Pain. Clearly someone had been concerned that Sarah’s brief existence should be formally recorded; Mary herself is the obvious suggestion, and since Sarah lived for nine months someone must have taken care of her, presumably within the Parish of St. Lawrence, where Mary gave her birth, and may have seen out her own life also. Nothing is known of any other friends of Mary along the coast, but her father may have had contacts she could avail herself of, through deliveries coastwise of consignments of Sittingboume bricks. And of course Maria Sally may have had friends to whose care Mary and her unborn child could have been recommended; but although Mrs. Sally is reputed to have maintained contact with Mary after her marriage, Mary’s return to the Sally household never seems to have taken place. 

How much Paine ever learned about his daughter and his estranged wife we will probably never know. Sarah would appear to have conceived about six months after the marriage, and Paine was back in Thetford to commence studying for the Excise about the time his daughter died in the Autumn of 1761, according to information supplied by Oldys. Only one piece of evidence as to what actually happened has ever existed, and amongst the scores of Paine biographers it has been held only by Oldys. It is the written declaration of his martial status Paine made in his own hand when he applied to enter the Excise. Oldys seems to have held this document in reserve, presumably to challenge Paine if he could tempt him into public dispute, but it must have been insufficient in itself to clinch a case against Paine in the contemporary climate. Unless Paine’s excise dossier ever comes to light, and this, in the opinion of the present writer, remains a possibility, then the circumstances of the break-up of his first marriage, and its probable effect on his second, will remain forever subjects of speculation. The likelihood is that Mary simply left him, possibly while he was visiting his parents and seeking their advice, and it may have been that when Paine returned to Margate he found her gone, and never ascertained what had actually happened to her. This possibility, which Oldys also postulated, is supported by what we know of his second marriage ten years later in 1771.

Editorial Note

The paper presented above was extracted from notes left by the late George Hindmarch that are now held by the society, having been presented to it by his wife. It was intended to be followed by a study of Paine’s second marriage, as there is a note to that effect at the conclusion of the paper, but there is no manuscript of such a study in the papers we have. 

However, Mr. Hindmarch, who worked as an Excise officer for forty years and took a great interest in its history, wrote about Paine’s work in drawing up a petition for better pay and conditions for excise officers which he set out in his Case of the Officers of Excise (1772-3). Mr. Hindmarch’s study was published in an edition of only one hundred copies in 1998, of which he allowed only a strictly limited number to go, and then only to scholars he felt would acknowledge his work. His book, a paperback of 95 pages was entitled, Thomas Paine: The Case of the King of England and his Officers of Excise, and is a very important though little known study. Anyone seriously interested in Paine’s life and work should read it. The remaining copies of the book have been presented to the society to sell for its funds and copies are available at £3. 50 which includes postage.

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Freethinkers, A History Of American Secularism. Susan Jacoby. New York, Metropolitan Books, 2004. 417pp. Illustrated. Hardback. ISBN 0 8050 7442 2. $27.50 (£17.50). 

Although it may seem something of an exaggeration I nevertheless feel that books devoted to the history of secularism are sadly as rare as hens teeth, so it was something of a surprise when I read a mention in an American publication about the forthcoming publication of the work under review. The author’s name was unfamiliar to me, something which made me wonder just what sort of book she had produced, would it turn out to be a poorly researched work that damned secularists and then went on to describe them as old fashioned and out of date because Christianity had changed so much, which it has not? Or would it be a melodramatic essay based around the activities of a few controversial figures such as Madelyn Murray O’Hair? 

Well, in the event the book turned out to be an extremely well written and very readable work, and, yes, it does mention Madalyn Murray O’Hair, albeit briefly, the author describing her as “almost alone in her willingness to call herself an atheist”, and who earned her place in the religious right’s pantheon of demons for her success in having prayers banned in American schools. However, although individual rooms are large in the pages of the book, by no means all having actually connected with organised secularism as such, the author’s overwhelming concern is with issues, and it is the secular response to these that is the main characteristic of the book. Nevertheless in the process the author, who does not lack a sense of humour, introduces her readers to characters such as Philo D. Beckworth, who built a “grand theatre” or “temple of the performing arts”, in Dowagiac. Beckworth was “a committed freethinker and the town’s main employer, his factory being one of the largest producers of stoves and furnaces in the United States. He had a strong philanthropic streak and not only paid his employees high wages but also gave them sick pay, which, Ms.Jacoby remarks, was in 1890s America almost unheard of. His theatre was, which was adorned with busts of famous freethinkers, including Ingersoll, Paine, Voltaire, Susan B. Anthony, George Elliot, Victor Hugo, George Sand and Walt Whitman, theatre was dedicated by Ingersoll, who, she writes, °seized the once-in-a- lifetime chance to dedicate a building prominently displaying his own graven image — a distinction customarily reserved for the honoured dead”. The theatre was demolished in 1968 and many of the busts were destroyed, however, local freethinkers rescued that of Ingersoll and it can now be seen in the Ingersoll Birthplace Museum in Dresden, New York. Another bit of odd information was that the notorious Roman Catholic bishop Fulton J. Sheen, went to considerable lengths to conceal the fact that he had a Protestant half-sister, and what was more, something he acknowledged with great reluctance, his great uncle Daniel Sheen had been a partner in Robert Ingersoll’s law practice in Peoria, but, claimed Sheen, he never embraced his partners agnosticism. 

American is a country in which state and church are legally separated, but as Ms. Jacoby notes, it is “one of the greatest unresolved paradoxes of American history that religion has come to occupy such an important place in the communal psyche and public life of a nation founder on the separation of church and state”. The early chapters of the book discuss the influence of Thomas Paine, to whom a whole chapter is devoted and attempts to impose religion on the new republic, one such attempt being made by Patrick Henry, who in 1784 introduced a bill into the Virginia General Assembly to assess all citizens for faxes to pay teachers of religion. The bill’s passage appeared to be a foregone conclusion but following a campaign against it led by James Madison, which even gained support from religious groups — one petition against it was signed by four thousand Quakers, it was, the author says, “relegated to the dustbin of history”, and instead the Assembly adopted Jefferson’s proposal for the complete separation of church and state, with some modifications. 

Essentially this book might be described in broad terms as being thematic, in that the author examines in subjects such as woman’s rights, slavery, evolution and anti-evolution, the rights of America’s coloured population, cultural activities, the ‘Unholy Trinity: Atheists, Reds, Darwinists’ (a chapter heading) which introduces readers to among others, the Scopes trial, which has popularly been represented as a defeat for obscurantist fundamentalism, but, as the author points out, this was not quite so, and literary censorship, discussing in detail the efforts to suppress Walt Whitman’s poem Leaves of Grass. In this issue, the author presents the attitudes and work of individual secularists, but also brings to the fore just how much support they received from religious individuals and groups. 

Freethought had little impact on one major group in American society, the coloureds. Ms.Jacoby discusses the reasons for this and in the process introduces us to the Negro secularist W. E. B. Du Bois, not that he appears to have had any formal connection with any freethought group. Brought up a Christian he increasingly came to regard “the church as an institution which defended such evils as slavery, colour caste, exploitation of labour and war”, although this clearly points to his freethought, or if you like, secularism, having been founded on and inspired by political considerations. In 1894 he had created a storm of controversy while employed as a lecturer at Wilberforce College, a college for Negroes run by the Ohio state government and the African Methodist Episcopal Church, when he flatly refused to lead students in public prayer. He was to write as a consequence of having studied in Europe that, ‘Religion helped and hindered my artistic sense. I knew the old English and German hymns by heart. I loved their music but ignored their silly words with studied inattention. Grand music came at last in the religious oratorios which we learned at Fisk University but it burst on me in Berlin with the Ninth Symphony and its Hymn of Joy. I worshiped at the Cathedral and ceremony which I saw in Europe but I knew what I was looking at when in New York a Cardinal became a strike-breaker and the Church of Christ fought the Communism of Christianity. The cardinal in question was Patrick Hayes. In old age Du Bois joined the Communist Party as a protest against McCarthyism. 

Secularists prominent in the fight for women’s rights include Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Ernestine Rose, both of whom get good coverage in the book. The work of the anti-immorality campaigner Anthony Comstock in seeking to use the legislation he and his associates had inspired in an attempt to suppress the distribution of freethought and secularist works, targeting in particular the freethought publisher D. M. Bennett, whom he managed to have jailed having tricked him into selling him an immoral pamphlet and sending it through the post, this being the charge, however, Comstock’s real aim, as Ms. Jacobi notes, was to close down Bennett’s successful journal the Truth Seeker. In this he failed.

It may well be that in the coverage of individual Secularists one could wish for more detail, as in the case of Emanuel Haldeman- Julius. His success as a publisher is recounted, indeed his Little Blue Books sold in their hundreds of millions, but there is no mention of the attention FBI’s chief J. Edgar Hoover’s animosity and his attempts to have Haldiman-Julius indicted as a communist, however, unlike so many others Haleman-Julius’s great wealth made this difficult because he could afford to hire good lawyers. He was certainly a sort of ambivalent socialist but he never a member of the Communist Party, even if he did publish a gushingly uncritical biography of Stalin written by Joseph McCabe, although this was during the war when Stalin was very, much an `Uncle Joe’ figure. One might add that Ms. Jacoby says Haldeman-Julius also published an edition of the bible, though while I possess the Stalin biography I have. never. I saw a copy of this, though it would not surprise me if he did, it’s rather too long for the Little Blue Book format, or the other series, the Big Blue Books, in which the Stalin biography appeared. 

This is a truly fine book, even if it is not about organised, secularism as such, and here the title is a bit misleading, but secularism in broad terms, or secularisation if you prefer. Nevertheless it deserves a place on the shoes of anyone interested in freethought history. It is well indexed, and has a bibliography that has extended my books wanted list considerably. What is more, for a well-bound, illustrated hardback the price is reasonable, there are many paperbacks that nowhere approach its value priced far in excess of it. I do not often describe a work as being essential reading, but in this case I have not the slightest hesitation in doing so.

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Most biographers of Thomas Paine say something about his early religious associations. There is general agreement that his father was a Quaker and his mother an Anglican, that he was baptised and confirmed into the Church of England and that as a boy in Thetford he preferred the quiet meetings of the Friends to the services at the parish church. It is also well known that, although he continued all his life to admire the Quakers for their good works, he could never completely accommodate himself to their life-style. 

Though I reverence their philanthropy I cannot help smiling at the conceit that, if the taste of a Quaker had been consulted at the creation, what a silent and discoloured creation it would have been! Not a flower would have bloomed its gayeties nor a bird been permitted to sing. 

But if neither the Church nor the Quakers attracted him, where could he find a place to belong religiously?¹

John Keane, in a biography that has been acclaimed as ‘definitive’, has suggested that as a young man Paine had a significant ‘brush with Methodism’: 

In Thetford Paine reportedly heard John Wesley preach. Wesley’s journal also records that when Paine was living in Dover, Benjamin Grace, Paine’s employer, took him along to the Methodist chapel on Limekiln Street, where Paine, aged twenty-one, confessed himself a believer and later preached sermons to the congregations (‘the hearers’) who gathered in that chapel. 

This gives the impression that Wesley, who frequently visited Dover, had himself supplied this important information. Only those readers who turn to Keane’s copious endnotes will realise that the Dover story did not come from Wesley but from the editor of the 1916 edition of his Journal, who recorded it in a footnote. The authority he cited was an article that had appeared ten years previously in the Methodist Recorder, in which an anonymous contributor — following a day trip to Dover — assembled a few miscellaneous facts about the local history of Methodism. After describing the chapel that Wesley had opened in Limekiln Street the writer added this interesting snippet:

The building in question, now a public house, has one queer association. Tom Paine, author of The Age of Reason, read a sermon there one day. He was apprenticed to Mr.Grace and went with him to class and chapel. He professed to believe, and was so far trusted that when a minister failed one day Tom Paine took the service. 

Since the information was provided by a leading Methodist whose family had lived in Dover for generations there is likely to be some truth in it. In fact, as Keane points out, the story is attested by this inscription in a copy of Wesley’s Sermons on Several Occasions taken to America in the nineteenth century: 

Out of this volume Thomas Paine, author of The Age of Reason, used to read sermons to the Congregations at the Methodist Chapel in Dover when they were disappointed of a Preacher. At that time he belonged to the Methodist Society in that place. 

Be that as it may, Paine did not stay long in Dover. After only a year he moved to Sandwich where he remained until 1761 and, according to a local tradition, sometimes preached ‘as an independent or a Methodist’ to small gathering in his own Iodgings.² 

Paine’s involvement with Methodism, it is suggested, did not end on his departure from Sandwich, as Keane speculates that during the year and a half he spent as an Excise officer in Grantham (1763-4) he relieved his boredom either by ‘socialising with patrons of the George inn’ or by ‘mixing with local Methodists’ — activities that, in view of the Wesleyans aversion to alehouses, might be considered barely compatible. The mixing with Methodists is said to have continued after Paine, following brief sojourns in Alford and Diss, eventually moved to London in 1766. Here for a time he eked out a living by teaching in an academy run by Daniel Noble, which, according to Keane, ‘stood in a forest of private-enterprise schools then shooting up in London. 

Some of these charitable schools were run by Methodists and Methodist sympathisers for labourers’ children, who were taught godliness, craft skills, and their social duties and rights. Noble’s academy was one of these.

It is, however, rather misleading to include this academy in the general run of ‘charitable schools’. Noble was no ordinary private school proprietor and was almost certainly not a ‘Methodist sympathiser’. Such a description is not borne out by the brief biographical details Keane himself supplies. 

[Noble] had been well educated at the Kendal Academy under Caleb Rotheram (a friend of Joseph Priestly) and at Glasgow University. He had a large private library and was well known for his Dissenting sympathies and active support for civil liberties. 

Apart from the confusion of Rotheram with his son of the same name (who was Priestley’s contemporary) his description of Noble, taken from a letter written to the Times Literary Supplement by the Baptist historian Ernest Payne, is accurate and to the point.³ 

Keane considers it likely that Paine assisted Noble in the work of preaching to his Seventh Day Baptist congregation at Mill Yard. He also gives some credence to a tradition that during his brief residence in London he preached in the city’s open fields. Here again, it is suggested, there was a significant link with Methodism. 

The Methodists, for whom he had preached in Dover and Sandwich, welcomed lay preachers in the struggle for ministers especially among London’s poorer folk, whose souls they thought could be saved from wickedness and whose lives could be defended in the name of humanity and civilization. 

But would they have welcomed Paine as a preacher if they had known that he was an associate of Noble? As Ernest Payne pointed out, Noble ‘belonged to a group of Baptists who added Arian sympathies to their Arminian and Sabbath-Keeping views’. . Moreover, as another Baptist historian W. T. Whitley expressed it, ‘he did not escape the drift towards Socinianism• which was prevalent nor did he seem to have been attracted by the revival under the early Methodists.⁴ 

Paine in Lewes 

As it transpired, Paine’s association with Noble was not to last long. Early in 1768, having been appointed to the post of Excise officer there, he left London and moved to the Sussex town of Lewes, where he took lodgings in the house of a tobacconist named Samuel alive. Keane states that he acquired this accommodation ‘through Methodist connections’, but, since there were no Wesleyans in or around Lewes at this time, this is highly unlikely. It was not until the nineteenth century that Lewes became what he calls ‘a town of Nonconformist churches’. Apart from the Quakers there were in Paine’s day, only two non-Anglican congregations there and both belonged to ‘Rational’, as opposed to ‘Evangelical’, Dissent. These were the General Baptists in Eastport Lane, and the mixed Presbyterian-Independent congregation at the Westgate Meeting, to which Ollive — who lived next door at Bull House — himself belonged. By this date the General Baptists and the Presbyterians, who were eventually to unite to form a single Unitarian congregation, were drawing closer together. Therefore it may be that, metaphorically speaking, Paine came to Bull House by way of Eastport Lane. The little congregation meeting there formed part of a General Baptist association extending throughout Kent and Sussex with which Noble, who was later to be invited to become their ‘Messenger’ or district minister, was closely associated. When needing help to find lodgings in Lewes it would have been only natural for Paine to turn to him.⁵ 

Where did Paine worship during his six years in Lewes? Lodging where he did, it is likely that, if he went anywhere, it would be to the Westgate Meeting. ‘Bull Meeting’, as it was also sometimes known, and Bull House had originally been one building and the wall of partition between them remained thin. Indeed, if Paine stayed in bed on a Sunday morning he might have heard the singing of psalms next door. On occasion he might have been inclined, if only out of courtesy, to accompany the 011ives to their family chapel. It is said that it was here that he went with Samuel’s daughter Elizabeth in March 1771 to exchange vows before going to be legally married to her at St. Michael’s church over the road. It is likely, however, that he was never formally a member of the Westgate congregation. The shilling a year that he agreed to pay to the trustees was not a membership subscription. It was, as he expressed in a letter to them in 1772, ‘an acknowledgement for their sufferings the droppings of rain’ which fell into the meeting- house yard from a structure that he had erected above it.⁶ 

Had he attended services at Westgate Paine would probably have approved of the preaching of Ebenezer Johnston, the liberal- minded Scotsman who had ministered there since 1742. Like Noble he had been educated at a Dissenting academy and well grounded in the philosophy of the Enlightenment. Although none of his sermons survive it is certain that, like all the Rational Dissenters, his emphasis would not have been upon the saving work of Christ but upon ‘practical religion’. At a time when many Protestant Dissenting congregations were experiencing divisions and schisms, Johnston succeeded — possibly by being ‘all things to all men’ — in keeping his people together. Although probably not himself a Socinian, he would have tolerated heretical views if he encountered them. And so if Paine, in the course of conversation, had expressed doubts about the Atonement or the Trinity or even gone so far as to question the whole idea of revealed religion, Johnston would not have been shocked.⁷ 

It is not certain where Paine stood theologically during his time in Lewes, but it is clear that he was mentally on the move. For many people their early 30s are formative years and for Paine, who was regularly exercising his critical faculties and speaking skills in debates at the local Headstrong Club, they may have been specially so. If, as Keane suggests, he was the ‘P….’ who wrote a satirical poem entitled ‘An Arithmetical Paraphrase of the Lord’s Prayer’ printed in the Lewes Journal in July 1771, he may by then have reached a Deist position. Perhaps his anger against injustice had already led him to reject revelation and question the truth of what Noble had said in a 1767 sermon about ‘the wisdom of Christ’: 

It is certainly proof of the wisdom of Christ that he did not at all interfere in civil matters or make such declarations in behalf of the common rights of universal mankind as could only have tended to draw down the whole fury of the secular power upon all his followers. 

By the time he left Lewes in 1774 it is likely that Paine, never one to worry about drawing down fury, would have openly disagreed with this statement and with Noble’s conclusion that philosophy must always be ‘assisted by Revelation’.⁸ 

Conclusion 

Which then had the greater influence on Paine as a young man — Wesleyan Methodism or Rational Dissent? John Keane is evidently convinced that it was Methodism. In a sub-section of his book entitled ‘The Methodist Revolution’ he considers the effects of Paine’s involvement with the Wesleyan movement. He contends that historians have misunderstood Methodism, wrongly seeing it as ‘a reactionary protest against Enlightenment reason and a movement that seduced its followers into conformism’. On the contrary, he says, Methodism ‘fed the modem democratic revolution in mid-eighteenth century England by offering a vision of a more equal and free community of souls living together on earth’ Although he admits that ‘the extent of Paine’s involvement with Methodism is uncertain’ he believes that it was primarily from this that the young man derived his egalitarianism, his passion for justice and his conviction that individuals were morally responsible for their own conduct. Several sentences begin with statements such as ‘Methodism demonstrated’, ‘Methodism showed’ or ‘Methodism convinced him’. Moreover it was Methodism that allegedly provided Paine with ‘the exhilarating view, traceable to the Dutch theologian Jacobus Arminus, that Christ’s sacrifice and atonement meant that all men and women might be saved’. 

‘You are steeped in sin, and there is nothing in you which merits God’s goodness’, the young Paine may have told his nervous and spellbound congregations in Dover and Sandwich, rephrasing words from other Methodist preachers that he had heard in action. ‘Yet remember the new light of God’s grace shines equally upon the poor and the rich. God is ready to welcome you — all of you — as His children so long as you strive to attain His grace and live the holy life which allows you to enter into His Kingdom’. 

But do these sound like the worst of a man who had been (at the age of seven or eight) ‘revolted, by a sermon on the Atonement and had ever since ‘either doubted the truth of the Christian system or thought it to be a strange affair’? Although the Wesleyan doctrine of the Atonement was more liberal and humane than that of the Calvinistic Methodists it is doubtful if it could ever have been acceptable to Paine, whom the whole idea of God sacrificing his own son was repugnant.⁹ 

Because of his distaste for the orthodox ‘Christian system’ it is likely that Paine responded positively to the heterodox preaching of Rational Dissenters such as Daniel Noble. Although, as Keane points out, Noble ‘preached Arminian views’, his Arminianism was very different from Wesley’s. While Wesley’s position was close to that of Arminius himself (as introduced into England by the Caroline divines), Noble’s was that of a later generation of Dutch Remonstrants, whose views had been introduced into England by Limborch and Locke. Having been steeped in Locke’s philosophy at Kendal academy, Noble was more concerned with enlightening men’s minds than with saving their souls. His Arminianism, to borrow a phrase from Geoffrey Nuttall, was not ‘of the heart but ‘of the head’.¹⁰ 

Some idea of what Noble’s preaching was like can be obtained from a sermon he delivered during Paine’s time in London, entitled ‘Religion, perfect Freedom’. It is full of references to such things as `the providence and moral government of God’, the ‘Sovereign Being who is able to make all things work together for good’ and the ‘laws of benevolence which are the true spirit of the Gospel’. ‘Is it not evident’, he asked, ‘that the pure and undefiled religion of Jesus bears a very friendly aspect to the cause of civil liberty?’ This is a very different tone than that of the average Methodist sermon with its heavy emphasis on sin and personal salvation. Is there not a foretaste here of what Paine was to write in The Age of Reason? Could not Noble’s preaching have helped to convince him that ‘the oral duty of man consists in imitating the moral goodness and beneficence of God’ and that ‘everything of persecution and revenge between man and man, and of everything of cruelty to animals, is -a violation of moral duty’? Apart from the reference to cruelty to animals, which shows Paine to have been far ‘ahead of his time’, the phraseology could have been lifted from almost any Rational Dissenting sermon.¹¹

Was it not from the Rational Dissenters rather than the Methodists that Paine derived the belief that his religion was simply ‘to do good’? Is it not likely that, as Ernest ‘Payne suggested, his association with Daniel Noble was ‘of some importance for the young man’s intellectual and spiritual development’? Judging by ‘A Sketch of the Character of the late reverend and learned Daniel Noble’ published in The Protestant Dissenters’ Magazine some years after his death he sounds like a man after Paine’s own heart. 

He had very enlarged ideas of the rights of others and was, upon principle, a thorough friend to the civil and religious liberties of all mankind. In conversation he was open and liberal, and at the same time serious and instructive. 

By all accounts Ebenezer Johnston of Lewes was a man of similar temper. Could the author of The Age of Reason have found better mentors than these two very rational Dissenters?¹²

References

1. T. Paine. The Age of Reason. Paris, 1794. 82-3. 
2. J. Keane. Tom Paine: A Political Life (1995). 46, 544 n.29; N. Cumock. Ed.. The Journal of the Rev. John Wesley, Vol.8 (1916), 3, in The Methodist Recorder, 16 August, 1906, 9. 
3. Keane, op.cit, 55, 60-1. E. A. Payne, ‘Tom Paine Preacher’, The Times Literary Supplement, 31 May, 1947, 267. 
4. Keane, op.cit., 62; Payne. back, W. T. Whitley, Seventh Day Baptists in England, Baptist Quarterly, n.s., Vol. 12 (1947), 265. 
5. Keane, op.cit., 62-3; W. T. Whitley, ‘Daniel Noble’, Baptist Quarterly, n.s., Val (1922), 137. 
6. J. M. Connell, The Story of an Old Meeting House, 2nd edn (1935), 64- 6; Keane, op.cit., 76-7. 
7. Connell, op.cit, 55-60. 
8. Keane, op.cit., 70; D. Noble, Religion, perfect Freedom: A sermon preached at Barbican. March 1, 1767, 25-7. 
9. Keane, op.cit., 45-9; Paine, The Age of Reason, 80-81. 
10. Keane, op.cit, 61; C. G. Bolam et. AL, The English Presbyterians (1968), 22-3; G. F. Nutthall, The Influence of Arminianism in England’, in, G. 0. McCulloch, ed., Man’s Faith and Freedom (1962), 46-7. 
11. Noble, op.cit, 19-20, 26-8; Paine, The Age of Reason, 116. 
12. The Protestant Dissenters’ Magazine, Vol.5 (1798), 441-2. 

Dr. Jeremy Goring is a member of the Thomas Paine Society and is a former Dean of Humanities at Goldsmiths College, University of London. He is the author of, Bum Holy Fire: Religion in Lewes Since the Reformation, which was published by the Lutterworth Press in 2003. 

Reprinted from the Transactions of the Unitarian Historical Society.

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There has been much discussion in recent months, and many letters published, about which outstanding British person should occupy the vacant plinth in Trafalgar Square. It so happened in one week that two Norfolk contemporaries, Admiral Nelson and Thomas Paine, were put forward at the same time and there was little doubt which way the majority of Britons would have voted. Every schoolboy knows Nelson’s achievements; after all winning battles is what really matters, is it not? More senior teenagers would know of other achievements. But in his day Paine led his own nation, as well as America, France and others, to think radically on the ways in which society should function. His greatest work, Rights of Man, sold hundreds of thousands of copies right across the western world, bringing people at all levels of society together to study and discuss its many advanced views. 

Paine’s thinking influenced social evolution relentlessly, although much too slowly, during the 19th century and on into the 20th, but his own nation has largely forgotten him and all that it owes to him; America is much more aware. His last major publication, The Age of Reason, must take a large share of the blame for this. It is not so much that he adopted a deist philosophy, it is the extraordinarily ill informed and hateful way in which he attacked Christianity, and Judaism before it. Christians of all denominations were affronted and disgusted, even the Quakers whom he singles out to exclude from his general condemnation, when he requested burial in their cemetery, refused. 

When we consider Paine’s personal in detail it is difficult to understand how he could have published such a work, even allowing that he was heavily influenced by deist leaders of the French Revolution in its degenerative stage, overwhelmed and stressed by the threat to his own life when he was imprisoned for daring to vote against sending Louis XVI to the guillotine.

Paine was born into a family of practising Christians. His mother was an Anglican, ensuring that he was baptise, confirmed and twice married in that communion, but his father was a Quaker and obviously had a profound influence upon his faith. In early life he wrote of, ‘the ef- fectionate and moral remonstrance of a good father’. Most signifi- cantly, as he was reaching maturity, he was to come under the spell of John Wesley and, as a result of hearing him preach, he engaged as a Methodist preacher in several locations. It has in recent times been asserted that he aimed to be ordained as a Methodist minister. (*George Hindmarsh. ‘Thomas Paine: The Methodist Influence’. TPS Bulletin. March, 1979.)

At that stage there were no separately ordained Methodists, since Wesley never regarded himself as anything other than Church of England, though taking a rather independent line. Paine himself, as officially Church of England, could have been ordained apart from one gap in his education. When he had reached grammar school his father decreed that he was not to learn Latin, which he associated primarily with Roman Catholicism. Without Latin Paine could not enter one of the English universities, the only path to ordination. How different his whole career might have been had this been otherwise. We might never have had Rights of Man let alone The Age of Reason, although it would be surprising if he had not published significant work on human rights and social development, considering his broad interest in these subjects. 

Looking at the 18th century in England overall, we see the early stages of the Industrial Revolution, with rural workers migrating to new manufacturing towns where they were soon being grounded down by ambitious mill owners and other leading industrialists, making them savage and illiterate in ways that were later illustrated in novels by Charles Dickens, Elizabeth Gaskell, and others. The established church took little interest in saving these people until John Wesley came along to convert and civilise, producing what we may now see as ‘articulate artisans’. Without Wesley the 1790s might well have seen bloody revolution throughout England following the example of France. Instead, those whom he had encouraged to know and read sacred scripture were well to read relevant social works such as Rights of Man when they came to hand, boosting Paine’s sales to such an extraordinary extent.

Those who have a formal education, in which they consider to be superior institutions, are always ready to demean those whom they regard as their less fortunate fellows, but they miss the point that people with superior intelligence will acquire an appropriate education by one means or another. And so it was with Thomas Paine, particularly when he moved to Lewes in Sussex, where he was soon drafted onto the Town Council. However, a more important factor was the Headstrong Club based in a local hostelry, somewhat akin to Rotary, Probus or similar organisations today, where he associated with experienced, educated and well read individuals. As his knowledge grew, a certain arrogance began to manifest itself from early on, as for instance when he declared after Common Sense had been published in America, “I scarcely ever quote, the reason is I always think”. And this attitude manifests itself again when he tackles The Age of Reason. 

It is interesting to compare Paine’s experience in Paris during the Reign of Terror with what Charles Dickens reveals in A Tale of Two Cities when dealing with the same problems. Dickens had a great gift for exploring complex social attitudes and developments as well as presenting fascinating, albeit fictional, characters. Sydney Carton was one of these, who had certain things in common with Paine in his later days. Both had resorted to a heavy reliance to alcohol to combat stress, and almost certainly had similar reflections when facing the end of life. 

Sydney Carton was contemplating a tremendous self-sacrifice which could bring him to the guillotine, in the interest of very dear friends, one of whom would himself escape as a result of what Carton was prepared to undertake. 

[It is a far better thing I do than I have ever done. It is a far better rest I go on to than I have ever known.] 

He reflects upon his ‘vagabond and restless habits’ remembering that ‘he had been famous among his earliest competitors as a youth of great promise’ up until his father’s death. He remembered solemn words which had been read at his father’s grave:

I am the resurrection and the life saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and he who liveth and believeth in me, shall never die. 

It was the end of a fateful day as he looks upon – 

…the lighted windows where the people were going to rest, forgetful through a few calm hours of the horrors surrounding them; in the towers of the churches, where no prayers were said, for the popular revulsion had even travelled that length of self destruction from years of priestly impostors, plunderers and profligates; in the distant burial-places reserved, as they wrote upon the gates, for eternal sleep. 

As he moves along the phrase, ‘I am the resurrection and the life’ keeps haunting him, while remembering his father. It is repeated three times. 

Not far off Thomas Paine would have been lying in his prison cell, another victim of ‘The Reign of Terror’, contemplating his own pos- sibly imminent journey to a likely conclusion. Was he reflecting on. ‘the affectionate and moral remonstrances of a good father’? Probably not, if he was already involved in composing The Age of Reason, but years later, retired back in America, when he appealed to the Quakers to inter him in their cemetery, can we be sure that his thoughts were not similar to those of Sydney Garton? Who can say? 

In composing Rights ofMan Paine is assessing a social structure with which he had become very familiar, looking at its weakness, as well as some strengths, then going on to point out ways in which reformation and improvements may be achieved. He had thought long and hard, so he was writing with confidence. 

When it comes to The Age of Reason however, this is a man floundering and lashing about in a sphere where he was entitled, like all of us, to have his own views, but hardly to foist them upon a public at large, many of whom, because of his excellent reputation up to that point, would regard him as a potential expert in almost anything to which he might put his mind.

When we associate with people of faith across a wide spectrum of Christian denominations it soon becomes apparent that faith may be strong without a detailed knowledge and study of scripture. As Paine discovered, when he had access to a Bible for part two of The Age of Reason, apparent contradictions rise up to challenge us which are not always easy to resolve. To start with, the concept of Revelation does not feature strongly with him, as it challenges the Deism which by then he had firmly adopted. 

It is not the purpose of this presentation to go through the publication in detail, but a few outstanding examples will hopefully serve to illustrate its weaknesses. Starting with the Old Testament he shows little knowledge of Judaism; he is not well informed on the oral tradition of earlier times, faithfully handed down from generation to generation until written records take over first in Hebrew, then in Greek and Latin, resulting in slightly different printed versions over time. He has particular difficulty with prophets and prophecy; he sees them as primitive poets acting on the side, not scribes, nor priests. It is commonplace to regard them as individuals predicting the future. He has no appreciation that where with hindsight we now see some prophecy in that way, the actual prophet may not himself have appreciated the full meaning of what he was proclaiming. 

This is well illustrated in Luke’s book of Acts where he gives an account of the apostle Philip’s meeting with a eunuch, an officer from the Queen of Ethiopia’s court returning from a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The man was reading a passage from Isaiah (53:7-8): “Like a sheep that is led to the slaughter; like a lamb that is dumb in front of its shearers,…He never opens his mouth. He has been humiliated and has no-one to defend Him. Who will ever talk about His descendants, since His life on earth has been cut short?” 

The eunuch asks Philip, “Is the prophet referring to himself or to someone else?” From that point Philip explained to him the good news of Jesus, which was there predicted. The eunuch was converted and sought baptism. The prophecy had been fulfilled centuries after Isaiah and Philip was expounding it years after the trial and death of Jesus.

Prophets were inspired individuals, who might occasionally be priests but most frequently were critics of God’s people and the leaders who were taking them astray. Good examples are Nathan when he confronts King David with his sin against Uriah the Hittite, so that he may add Bathsheba to his tally of wives and concubines, or Elijah when he is overcoming the prophets of Baal, then pursuing King Ahab and Queen Jezebel at the risk of his own life and welfare, feeling mightily threatened and depressed. 

Coming to the New Testament, Paine sees the four evangelists, authors of the Gospels, as four of the twelve apostles of Jesus, a not uncommon misconception throughout Christianity even today, and of little consequence for many, but for Paine the idea was misleading. He regards the Gospels as if they were all written in or about the same time by individuals who had lived with Jesus to the end of his earthly life. In his own experience as a journalist, such a group of contemporary reporters should vary little. 

In fact the position was quite different, only two were apostles of Jesus, Matthew was one of the earliest to write and John was the last who, at the end of a long life, with much to cogitate, seeing the synoptic gospels already in place, accounting for the life and actions of Jesus, wanted to present His teaching in greater detail. The other two, Mark and Luke, were companions of Paul, so their perceptions would be influenced by him. Luke was a convert from paganism, a Roman citizen, a physician studying at Alexandria, but with a keen perception of Judaism and what was happening at its heart just then. If Paine had appreciated all this he would have been much less confused. 

Some of his off-the-cuff comments on New Testament details are intemperate and highly offensive to sincere Christians as, for instance, what he has to say on the virgin birth, and on the life of Jesus. He rubbishes Jesus, Mary and Joseph as genuine historical characters, which of course enemies have done down through two millennia.

To conclude, our Thomas Paine Society undoubtedly has members who cherish his Age of Reason, their undoubted right, but can they deny that it has damaged Rights of Man for many others? A sad out- come for such an outstanding social reformer, and his work.

References

John Keane. Tom Paine – A Political Life. London, Bloomsbury, 1995.

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On July 22, 1815, Charles Sutton, founder, proprietor and editor of the Nottingham Review was charged with libel against the government and the British army, although it was not until February the following year that he was actually brought to trial before a special jury on an ex officio information.¹ Predictably found guilty, he was sentenced on February 17 to a year in Northampton prison, plus a substantial fine. According to the charge, it had been his ‘intention to breed discontent in the minds of His Majesty’s subjects’ by publishing in the October 14, 1814 issue of the Review a letter purporting to have come from ‘General Ludd’ which contrasted the destructive activities of the British army in the United States, the two countries being at war, and the approval given this by the government with the attitude they took in respect of the Luddites, however rather than present isolated passages I give the letter in full as it does not appear to have been republished since it first appeared in Sutton’s newspaper:

‘I take the liberty of dropping you a few lines to inform you of the good fortune of one of my sons, who is come to very high honour. You may know that some time ago, owing to some imprudent conduct, my eldest son Ned decamped and enlisted into his Majesty’s service, and as he was notorious for heroism and honourable enterprise, he was entrusted with a commission to exercise his prowess against the Americans, and I am happy to say he has acquitted himself in a way which will establish his fame to generations yet unborn. I assure you Mr. Editor, I scarcely know how to keep my feelings within bounds, for while all our former and united efforts in breaking frames, were commented upon with some severity, and in a way which cast an odium upon my character and that of my family, I now think the scales are turned, and our enemies are converted into friends; they sing a new tune to an old song, and the mighty deeds of my son are trumpeted fourth in every loyal paper in the kingdom. My son is not confined to breaking a few frames, having the sanction of the government, he can now not only wield his great hammer to break printing presses and types, but he has the license to set fire to places and property which he deems obnoxious, and now and then even a little private pillage to wink at. Even the GAZETTE EDITOR of Mr. Tupman’s who was formerly one of my greatest enemies, and threatened to pursue both me and my family to the uttermost, is now in my favour, and is become a patron, and an admirer of my son, on account of his achievements in Washington.² There is one thing though in the conduct of this Gentleman which has caused me some little uneasiness; a few weeks ago he strongly recommended to the magistrates to offer a very large award to any person who would disclose our secret system of operation in the neighbourhood; he went so far as to say 5,000f ought to be offered, enough he said to enable the informant to live independent in another country, intimating that such a character would not be considered a proper person for the society of this country, and therefore he should emigrate to seek other associates. I hope it is not true that this notorious Editor has any secrets to disclose against me and my family, and that he is waiting for this very large reward to be offered, that he may avail himself of such an opportunity of making his fortune, and fleeing his country. Now, I really think, as my son is become truly loyal, and is working for his country’s good, and under the sanction of the Crown, and as his achievements have been first rate “old grievances ought not to be repeated;” though bye and bye, I of the opinion that all which I and my son have done in Nottingham and neighbourhood, is not half so bad as what my son has done in America; but then you know he has supreme orders from indisputable authority, for his operations in America, and that makes all the difference.

I am, Sir, your obedient servant

GENERAL LUDD

Ludd Hall, October 5, 1814.

In some notes prepared for his defence, Sutton describes the letter as ‘an ephemeral trifling article’ which the Attorney General, Sir William Garrow ‘would not conceived the idea of prosecuting …. had he not been instigated thereto by some of our own townsmen who (shame on such hypocrisy) wore the mask of whiggism’.³ In other words, Sutton was of the opinion that some people had masqueraded as radicals whereas they were actually anything but so. The Home Office is known to have kept newspapers critical of government policies and supportive of reform under close surveillance, which in the case of the provincial press was undertaken by ‘innumerable Tory magistrates and clergymen in all parts of the country’ who sent the Home Secretary those papers and pamphlets they considered should be subject to prosecution,⁴ these included the Nottingham Review, which had been under official scrutiny from 1814,⁵ although it is likely this had commenced earlier. A reader of the paper, a Mr. Orgill, who may well have been one of Sutton’s pseudo-Whigs, had sent a copy of the issue containing the letter to the Attorney-General, as he revealed in a letter he sent to Sutton in which he demanded the dismissal of the paper’s editor, who he names as being John Blackner, in addition he also accuses Blackner of being the author of the ‘General Ludd’ letter.⁶

 Despite the decision of the court in Sutton’s case, Orgill was probably correct in naming Blackner as the author of the letter, perhaps having heard him talk about it and his other contributions to the paper, incorrectly concluding from the latter that he, not Sutton, was the editor. According to Derek Fraser, Blackner had assisted Sutton from 1809 to 1812 with editorials,⁷ basing this claim on a paper written by C.J. Warren, who actually says nothing of the sort but limits himself only to asserting him to have been a regular contributor.⁸ However, following Sutton being jailed it does seem Blackner then assumed some sort of editorial responsibility, although in this he appears to have been assisted, or overseen, by Sutton’s son Richard,⁹ The Attorney-General appears not to have taken Orgill’s claim seriously and no action was ever taken against Blackner. It is, of course, possible that Sutton had incorporated material written by Blackner into his own contributions but this would not constitute assisting with editorials in the formal sense, Sutton could do as he wished with material he had paid for, there being no copyright laws to worry about. 

The sentiments expressed in `Ludd’s’ letter reflect Blackner’s known sympathy for the Luddites, in addition to which his eldest son, also named John, had joined the army and been sent to the United States where he participated in the war between that country and England, and during which he was killed in action in 1812, the first year of the war. This must have been a terrible blow to Blackner and his wife who appear to have enjoyed a happily married life together. Of all Sutton’s known associates, Blackner was the most likely to have written such a letter. Moreover, Blackner could speak from personal experience about the problems the framework knitters were encountering and he was very sympathetic to their complaints. As a Paineite he also tended to look upon the newly established United States as the democratic ideal which most radicals saw as the blueprint for a new society in Britain. Such unquestioning idealism may have been flawed, but this fact was not obvious at the time. 

During the late 18th and first quarter of the 19th centuries Luddism was a major political and economic thorn in the side of the government, consequently newspapers considered sympathetic towards it such as the Review became targets for prosecution, unless, of course, their owners and editors, frequently one and the same, could be pressured into publishing government propaganda against the Luddites, perhaps while still seeking to create the impression they were sympathetic to the ‘Luddite cause. This plan of action can be seen in the case of Thomas Paine, for in order to reduce his support and influence the government paid George Chalmers (who used the name Francis Oldys) to write an ostensibly friendly biography of him which was really an exercise in character assassination. We do not know if the government sought to pressure Sutton into working for them, but one suspects they may have attempted to, particularly as his paper was popular and had attained a considerable circulation, this in 1812 being around 1,500 copies per weekly issue, of which half were sold outside Nottingham. 

At a Cabinet meeting held on January 29, 1812 to discuss action to be taken against the Luddites, time was devoted to exploring means by which articles hostile to them could be inserted into Nottingham newspapers. During the ensuing discussion it emerged that the Home Secretary had serious doubts whether there was a single paper in the town likely to cooperate, or ‘that could be relied upon’ to convince ‘the lower orders’ that their own ruin would be the result of further machine breaking. If this was not sufficient doubts were also expressed as to the difficulty in finding suitable writers for the proposed articles.¹⁰ One wonders whether these observations were made in light of a refusal on Sutton’s part to accept a secret subsidy to ensure his newspaper took a pro-government stance. Such payments, using unaccountable secret service funds, had been paid to several publishers including John Stockdale, who received close to £300, and John Heriot, who had been paid over £172 for producing pamphlets and advertisements.¹¹ 

Although the political nature of the prosecution was obvious to Sutton, he was convinced that the real reason for it was not the letter, but his sustained opposition to the war with France and believed that Attorney-General had given into pressure at the urging of ‘an enemy’ who’ stood at his (the Attorney-General’s) ear… as Satan of old stood at the ear of Eve’.¹² Although he does not name the individual he had in mind one can speculate it was the lawyer, D.C.Coke, who had been, with one short but significant break, Tory MP for Nottingham from 1780 until 1812. The break occurred in 1802 when following a bitterly fought election campaign lasting several days Coke lost his seat to Joseph Birch, a radical. Coke was mortified and petitioned for the election to be declared invalid, arguing that the pro-radical Nottingham Council had failed to ensure his supporters protection when they sought to vote, as the radicals had intimidated them. A House of Commons committee accepted his complaint and ordered a re-run of the election in 1803. 

Birch had been nominated to contest the 1802 election without his foreknowledge by two artisans, one a journeyman stockingmaker, the other, a woolcomber, but this notwithstanding he had agreed to accept nomination. This set the proverbial cat among the political pigeons, for Tory supporters were horrified by the fact that two members of an inferior social order had interfered in what was said to be an unofficial agreement to ensure that one of Nottingham’s two Parliamentary seats went to the Whigs and one to the Tories. The ‘lower orders’ were supposed to know their station in society, this pair obviously did not. One hysterical supporter of Coke wrote of this being ‘a frightful omen on the part of the labouring class’.¹³ Faced with a similar ‘omen’ a quite useless society ornament, the duchess of Buckingham, had spluttered in rage about workers being ‘tinctured with impertinence and disrespect towards their superiors’. To this Coke would have no doubt have added a sincere `amen’. 

Intimidation came from both sides during the 1802 election, for certain of Coke’s supporters amongst local employers sought to pressure their employees eligible to vote into supporting him by threatening to dismiss them. This was instrumental in catapulting Sutton into the political arena, as in association with certain other prominent local radicals he established a benevolent fund from which payments would be made to assist anyone who had voted ‘according to Conscience, and irrespective of party, and for which they had been oppressed `by the Iron-hand of power’ until they had obtained further employment.¹⁴

The 1803 election became known as the “paper war” on account of the sheer volume of electoral posters, handbills, broadsheets and such like that were produced and circulated in the town. Sutton, a Birch supporter, must have benefited financially as he printed much of the material issued by Birch and his supporters. Whether he wrote as well as printed any of the largely anonymously written handbills, etc., cannot be determined, nor do we know whether Blackner was involved, but one suspects this to have been likely. Did he have a vote and was one of those dismissed and so turned to the benevolent fund for assistance, and having done this did he make his first acquaintance with Sutton at this time? If so then it could also be when he decided to become politically active.

During the campaign Coke sought to show Birch as being if not the devil incarnate at least his right hand demon, while his supporters, if not himself, were depicted as being followers of Thomas Paine, and as such intent upon the destruction of the monarchy.¹⁵ In contrast, Coke represented himself as ‘venerating the monarchy’.¹⁶ Sutton, one might add, is reputed to have held republican views and the coverage he gave republican radicals in the Review following its foundation in 1808 would tend to support this belief. 

Charles Sutton was born 1765, his parents being Unitarians. He received a good education and was apprenticeship as a printer, establishing his own busi- ness in Bridlesmith gate, Nottingham, in 1792. He converted, probably due to the influ- ence of his `pious’ wife, from Unitarianism to Methodism, joining the breakaway Methodist New Connection in 1783. Like so many of his fellow co-religionists he had been greatly influenced by Thomas Paine’s Rights of Man, indeed Paine himself had sought, without success, to become a Methodist minister.¹⁷ Although Sutton never mentioned Paine in his paper, or listed any of his titles in his book catalogues, these did contain many radical classics and accounts of the trials of radicals such as Thomas Muir, in which Paine loomed large, Muir being sentenced to transportation for having books by Paine. If he stocked Paine’s works, which one suspects he did, Sutton would have done so on an ‘under the counter basis’, a common practice amongst booksellers. Despite his radicalism Sutton does not appear to have written any separate political works, his political feelings being expressed anonymously through the pages of his paper following its establishment in 1808, he did, though, produce several religious essays of no particular significance. 

Little is known of John Blackner’s early years apart from him having first seen the light of day in the small Derbyshire town of Ilkeston, a few miles from Nottingham. There is no record of his mother’s marriage in the register of the parish church, there is an entry for the marriage of a John Blackase to a Martha Brambury, which took place on December 4, 1769. There is no evidence of any connection and the only reason I mention it is the fact that Blackner’s mother’s name was Martha. Nor is there any mention of his baptism, but this is not surprising as his parents are known to have been nonconformists who worshiped at the town’s Independent Chapel. Many nonconformists objected to participating in an Anglican rite, even if only for infant baptism and are known to have deliberately ignored their legal obligation to have their children baptised in an Anglican church. It was not until the passing of the 1836 Registration Act that nonconformists were allowed to baptise children in their own places of worship. There is, of course, the possibility that the family did not live in Ilkeston. Whether Blackner had any brothers and sisters is also unknown. His father is said to have died while he was an infant, but there is no entry for him in the parish burial register. However, his widowed mother remarried a man named Joseph Large, a tailor by profession, who came from Greasley, Nottinghamshire, on November 14, 1791, according to the parish marriage register. To all effect and purpose she then disappears from the Blackner story, although John retained fond memories of his step-father, who he described as ‘a kind parent, a father to the fatherless, a meek Christian and a good man’.¹⁸ 

Blackner is said to have been apprenticed to an Ilkeston stocking- maker, although at what age is not on record, but one suspects it was when he was either ten or eleven, although boys as young as none were apprenticed, particularly if they came from poor families and required assistance from the Guardians of the Poor in order to obtain an apprenticeship, in such cases they remained in servitude until they reached the age of twenty-one, thus making them a source of cheap labour. On May 11, 1788, presumably after he had finished his apprenticeship, Blackner married Sarah Brown, both bride and groom are said not to have been able to write.¹⁹ As can be seen documented biographical details about him are all but non-existent until around 1805, by when he had become an accomplished writer, publishing in that year his first known political essay The Utility of Commerce Defended…., which Sutton printed for him. This combines a discussion of the ill effects of the Corn Law with a passionate plea for radical reform, and concludes with a restatement of the argument in verse, a most unusual, but not unique, feature for a political pamphlet. In this essay Blackner provides one of the few fragments of biographical information he ever presented his readers, stating that he had been a father for sixteen years.²⁰ This means his first child was born in 1789, however, he omits to say whether it was male or female. He incorrectly gives the number of his children as six children, whereas he actually had seven, a son he named Alfred having been born in 1804, being baptised on February 27 of that year according to an entry in the baptismal register of St. Mary’s church, Nottingham. His other children were John, Algernon, Lucius, Mary, Sarah and Letitia. 

Some time during the 1790s Blackner moved from Ilkeston to Nottingham, though the year he did so is not known. Most of those who have written about him opt for 1792, but some say it was the following year. To move from one place to another in order to settle required an official Certificate of Settlement, but there is no record of one ever having been issued to him in either year, or any other for the matter. The only certificate carrying the name Blackner was for a 12 year boy named Michael Blackner, who moved from Arnold to Nottingham in 1773. Nevertheless, John Blackner moved to Nottingham certificate or no certificate and found accommodation in Narrow Marsh along with what is said to have been a well-paid job in the lace industry. We now meet another of the stories circulated about him, namely he started to drink heavily and having spent his wages on the demon drink was forced to resort to poaching to feed his family, although whether a drunkard would have made a good poacher is anyone’s guess. Although no one has produced a shred of evidence to support this tale I am inclined to think there might be some substance in it as a period of prolonged drinking may have effected his liver and contributed to the illness which shortened his life. Of course this is sheer guesswork, and it may just be that as in the case of Thomas Paine, Blackner’s detractors cooked up the story to harm his reputation.²¹ 

Another incident which is supposed to have happened is that at some unspecified date Blackner accepted the ‘King’s Shilling’ and joined the 45th (Nottinghamshire) Regiment, but bought himself out after only three months.²² I am yet to encounter any contemporary evidence supportive of this tale and until this is forthcoming there is no point in discussing it in any detail, it is sufficient to say that the regiment concerned had recently returned to England from the West Indies, its ranks depleted as officers and men had died off like flies from diseases contacted out there,²³ and being desperate for recruits recruits to replace them would have been exceedingly loathe to have allowed Blackner to so rapidly purchase his discharge, if they permitted him to do so at all. It is not impossible that the story of his military services originated in someone hearing an account if his son John having joined up and managed to confuse the two. 

Despite the lack of evidence for Blackner’s military service, several writers have commented upon it, particularly the rapid discharge element in the tale, thus one writer seeking to explain what he recognises as a difficulty attempts to get around it by advancing the proposition, qualified with the words, ‘no doubt’, that his `radical temperament found army discipline as irksome as his military superiors must have found this very voluble and recalcitrant recruit and the parting would be to the benefit of both’.<sup>24</sup> Somehow this explanation fails to carry conviction, for the army was more than capable of breaking even the most ‘voluble’ and `recalcitrant’ of recruits. 

Descriptions of Blackner do not represent him as a drunk, he appears to have been rather smart, being tall and commanding and an able public speaker who received respect and attention from his fellows.²⁵ He is said to have been ‘insinuating in manner’, in private ‘mild and unostentatious’, in public, ‘boisterous in speech and argument and overbearing in behaviour’, but also as a friend he was ‘warm hearted, kind and generous’.²⁶ According to the entry on Blackner in Dictionary of National Biography, he was very popular among his associates. 

According to all sources Blackner received little, if any, education as a child, which makes it all the more remarkable that he became a writer, being the author not only of material for Sutton’s paper but of several political pamphlets and an important history of his adopted town. Like much else in his early years, how he managed to receive an education is a mystery, but perhaps he maintained silence about this out of the embarrassment of publicly acknowledging he had once been illiterate may have caused him. It is possible that having settled in Nottingham Blackner became involved with a group of radical artisans who met at a local pub to debate, discuss and read the latest political news, publications and such like, which may have stimulated in him a desire to be educated.²⁷ The existence of such informal groups is well attested to and were much disapproved of by the Tory press, which found it astonishing that artisans and apprentices should consider themselves as authorities in matters they were supposedly unqualified to comment upon and which they would be best advised to leave for the attention of their betters. This is an attitude which is encountered occasionally even now. Whatever was the stimulus for Blackner to desire an education he did not receive as a boy, and wherever it occurred, the fact is that he managed to transform himself dramatically. In doing this he is said to have been assisted by Scottish shoemaker named Arthur Gordon, which is about all we know of him, and that they used as a text book, Louth’s Grammar.²⁸ Whether he later received further assistance from an educated individual such as Charles Sutton, is not known, though this is not impossible.

When, then, did Blackner become acquainted with Charles Sutton? Perhaps it was during the 1802 election, but whatever brought them together they got on very well. They were an unlikely pair, Sutton, the radical and very religious businessman who was rapidly expanding both his interests and his wealth, and Blackner, a relatively poor self-educated radical with a flair for writing and speaking but who was also an unbeliever. Their partnership survived even Sutton was jailed for publishing something that I contend Blackner to have written. What was Blackner’s first first work? We do not know, but it just may have been the Paineite broadsheet, Freedom Triumphant over Oppression, issued during the 1803 election and which Sutton printed.²⁹ 

In 1807 Blackner issued another pamphlet, Thoughts on the Late Change of Administration, containing a Contrasted Table of the Prices of Provisions. As with his earlier essay the theme repeatedly stressed was the need for political, economic and social reform: ‘…without Reform’, he wrote,’and that too of the most radical nature; all other renovations will be but patchwork, and that of the lowest kind’.³⁰ He goes on to attack hereditary monarchy, which, he observes, ‘when viewed in the abstract, is laughable in the extreme’, and refers to the risk of being ‘governed by an idiot or a child,.’ a point which could have been lifted from chapter three of part two of Rights of Man. Writing of an elective monarchy he is equally dismissive, however, here he diverges from Paine in that he is not hostile to a monarchy as such providing it was hedged around with restrictions, yet having taken this stance he then pours cold water on the idea, implying it to be an impossibility, for if the House of Lords was seen as a curb on the power of the monarchy the king could easily circumvent it by creating more lords. He also points out that monarch could use the House of Commons to grant pensions to his cronies, and, as he puts it, `the embers of English liberty, will be sold in their turn to complete the influence of the Oligarchy, and the Crown,<sup>31</sup> Blackner, like Paine, has scant respect for Burke, and refers to when he ‘wrote an unpensioned hand, attacking the miseries of princes for want of a system of virtuous law’.<sup>32</sup> Nor does he spare the clergy of the Anglican establishment, drawing attention to its lack of democracy and to `so many parsons, who are a disgrace to their cloth’.³³

1807 was also to see Blackner become embroiled in a controversy concerning an attempt to establish a new workhouse in Nottingham, or as it was described, a ‘House of Industry’, to serve the St.Mary’s and St.Nicholas’s parishes. The scheme had been concocted in secrecy by a group of individuals associated with these churches, the vicar of St.Mary’s being a particularly strong supporter. To put the proposal into effect required Parliamentary approval, hence a Bill was introduced into the House of Commons to obtain this. Eventually someone, probably Sutton, heard of the scheme and passed the news to Blackner, who commenced a campaign to make the public aware of what was going on and also to • prevent it going through. It may well be that Sutton personally funded Blackner’s campaign. 

Blackner pointed out that while the scheme was being promoted `under the plausible pretext of bettering the condition of the poor’, the reality was rather different, for as far as the inmates went it would ‘make their situation as dependent and wretched as galley slaves’. He saluted the third Nottingham parish, St.Peter’s, for having ‘had the good sense to keep out of this nefarious business’. 

The proposed workhouse was intended to admit the poor from a twelve mile radius around the two parishes and the institution would be under the control of a ‘a corporation’ consisting of a number of directors who, among other things, would be empowered to order the use of corporal punishment on the inmates and send pauper boys to sea. The Bill stipulated that anyone who absconded twice from the house wearing clothes provided by it would be deemed to have committed a felony and be liable for transportation. About this Blackner sarcastically commented, that this fate could ‘not have been avoided, except they had escaped in a state of nudity’ (his emphasis). He said the powers of the corporation were dictatorial, the directors being ‘accusers, jurors and judges. The harsh disciplinary rules planned for the new workhouse, though, were only a reflection of those currently prevailing in England at that time, a typical illustration of which was the sentencing to death of eleven year old John Write in 1801 for stealing a cow.³⁴ He was eventually reprieved on grounds of being too young to be hanged, though not long after his case a fourteen year old was hanged for acting as a Luddite look-out, and a few years later a six year old boy was sentenced to transportation and the sentence actually carried out. 

So ‘adroitly’, to employ a term used by Blackner, was secrecy about the scheme maintained `that even some of the committee were strangers to its contents’, nor were `the public acquainted with its existence till it was on the eve of being read for a second time in the House of Commons’. Blackner’s campaign gave rise to considerable, and to the proposers unwelcome, public interest, but ‘progress on the Bill’ was abruptly halted, not as a result of Blackner’s agitation but because Parliament was prorogued on April 27, however, as he was quick to point out, the Bill could be revived. Although the scheme was now in limbo, the controversy continued unabated with the vicar of St. Mary’s, the Rev J. Bristow, said to have been its most outspoken defender, even entering into correspondence with Blackner on the subject. Eventually public interest resulted in a vestry meeting being convened to discuss the scheme, this, according to Blackner, attracted so many people that it was said to have been the best attended such meeting anyone present could recall. A string of hostile resolutions were moved and passed and, as he records, ‘the iniquitous scheme fell to the ground never’, he hoped ‘to be revived’.³⁵ Once the campaign against the proposed workhouse concluded, Blackner found himself something of a local hero amongst his fellow artisans, becoming their unofficial spokesman. In 1808 a group of them sought to make their feelings about him public by petitioning-for him to be made a Freeman of the town. This was open, to all who had served an apprenticeship in Nottingham, but in Blackner’s case there was a major difficulty, he had served his in Ilkeston and so was ineligible for enrolment as a Freeman. But all, or most, problems have solutions and in his case it was overcome by making him an Honorary Freeman, his enrolment and stamp fees being met by the Lace Trade Committee, a substitute for a trade union, workers `combinations’ being banned, if ineffectively, by the Combination Acts of 1799 and 1800. 

According to CJ. Warren,³⁶ citing what he says is a manuscript memoir of Blackner written by someone who knew him personally, Blackner commenced contributing to the Review in 1809, his first article being in its issue for April 30, but there was no issue for that date, the nearest being April 28, the next May 5. Warren says his contribution dealt with home affairs, but an examination of both issues shows there were no articles specifically on this theme, though there are several items which encompassed the subject. As no material written for the Review is attributed to any writer it is difficult to decide about who wrote what, particularly as Blackner and Sutton shared almost identical political opinions. It is not impossible that he contributed to the Review from its first issue in 1808 onwards, as Sutton would have been familiar with his political opinions having printed his political essays. 

The Review was highly critical of the financial sinecures enjoyed by the government’s supporters and officials, and in what I suspect may have been one of Blackner’s contributions, on the grounds that he had addressed economic matters in his essay, The Utility of Commerce Defended , is a detailed list of the payments given to various political luminaries The article is both critical and sarcastic, thus when commenting upon the ‘pensions’ paid to various individuals representing England abroad, the writer observes that ‘The present state of the Continent proves to demonstrate the eminent services which have been performed at the various courts by these illustrious pensioners’ Examples of the payments given to various functionaries are noted, these include, £4,086 to the ‘filagazer’, £1030 to the ‘Clerk of Errors’, £260 to the `Surveyor of Green Wax’, and the £23,081 and £23,474 paid respectably to the two ‘Tellers of the Exchequer’, both peers, one a marquis the other an earl. Another earl received £1,006 for being `A Searcher, Packer and Ganger’.³⁷ 

In 1812 Blackner went to London to assume the editorship of a radical daily paper, The Statesman.³⁸ How long he remained in the capital is not known for certain, but it was probably until around November. A summons had been taken out against him in Nottingham on June 18 for having failed to pay the poor rate to St.Mary’s, so it would seem he was still there then and had no knowledge of the demand as it had not been forwarded to him. A second summons was issued on December 14 which appears to have been paid as no more is heard of it, so presumably he was back in Nottingham by then. Blackner was standing in for the editor and owner of The Statesman, Daniel Lovell, who had been sentenced to twelve months in prison in 1811 for criticising the conduct of the military when they broke into the home of Sir Francis Burdett in 1810 to arrest him. As Lovell was released late in 1812 and resumed his role as editor, Blackner’s job was strictly temporary, a fact which makes a nonsense out of the charge levelled against him by W.H.Wylie that he was forced to give up the editorship because he was too old fashioned and boring as a journalist, as well as being educationally backward.³⁹ It goes without saying that Wylie was careful not to mention Lovell. 

Having failed to find a newspaper in Nottingham to publish its anti-Luddite propaganda, the government may have resorted to using posters designed to create the impression that the Luddites were a revolutionary movement planning to assassinate the Prime Minister and overthrow the government. Circumstantial evidence for this may exist in the form of a verse copied on the back of a letter which had been sent to Sutton from Mansfield on April 23, 1812. The verse appears to have been copied from a poster which must have been put up around Nottingham some time after April 23, the copy being made by someone from Sutton’s office, but just who is not known. The fact that the copy was made on a letter to Sutton rather than in a blank sheet is strange, one would have assumed that a blank sheet of paper would have been used had he ordered a copy to have been made. This possess the question: was it planted on Sutton? The verse reads:

‘Well walk on Ned Lud, your cause is good,

Make Perceval⁴⁰ your aim,

By the late Bill⁴¹ ’tis understood,

Tis death to break a frame.

Will dextrs skill to Hosiers kill,

For they are quite as bad,

To die you must by the late Bill,

Go on my bonny lad

You may as well be hangd for death

As breaking a machine,

So now my lad your sword unsheath,

And make it sharp and keen.

Were ready now your cause to join,

Whenever you may call,

To make fresh blood run fair and fine,

Of tyrants grt and small.

There now follows a postscript:

Deface this who does,

Shall have tyrants fare,

For Ned’s Every where,

So both see and hear.

“An enemy to Tyrants’.⁴²

Perhaps those behind the poster hoped Sutton would print it, which might have left him open to a charge with serious consequences and as such putting him into a position which may have forced him to accept government propaganda for publication in the Review. The verse was never printed but from 1812 onwards the paper’s sympathy for the Luddites declined, so if there was a government plot it may be said to have met with a measure of success, although at the time the authorities may not have realised it. 

Early in 1813, Blackner became landlord of a public house, the Bull’s Inn on the corner of what was then Turncalf alley, which in 1884 was renamed Sussex street. Not long after taking over he renamed the pub the Rancliffe Arms after the second Lord Rancliffe, who had been elected as a Member of Parliament for Nottingham in 1812 as a moderate radical. Joseph Birch had been invited to stand but had declined as he was contesting another seat, but had he done so and been elected the pub may have been renamed the Birch Arms. It is rather ironic, though, that Blackner, who was contemptuous of titles, should have named his pub after an individual with one. Peers were in fact ineligible to sit in the Commons but Rancliffe’s peerage was Irish so the restriction did not apply in his case. The inn, which was to retain its new name until its demolition in 1927, ‘soon became the principle place of leading members, among the humbler classes in particular, of radical reformers.’⁴³ Blacker himself, in the words of one historian, becoming a ‘representative of the new industrial class’⁴⁴ while the textile historian, Gravenor Henson, describes him as having been ‘an active man in forwarding the interests of the operating classes’, these being the framework knitters.⁴⁵

Having managed to talk Birch into fighting the 1802 election, Nottingham’s artisans appear to have got the bit between their collective teeth and ensured the omen the Tories had feared so much came to pass, for they made up a delegation, which included Blackner, to meet Rancliffe and request he fight the seat. Knowing Blackner’s ability as a speaker and his commanding presence, it is likely that he led the delegation and acted as its spokesman. It is possible he had met the peer some years earlier as there is a reference in his, Utility of Commerce Defended… to him having discussed the Corn Law with a landowner; was this Rancliffe, whose family owned an estate at Bunny near Nottingham? John Blackner is best known to present-day historians as being the author of an important book on the history of the Nottingham. According to Geoffrey Oldfield this was first advertised in the Nottingham Review of December 30, 1814,⁴⁶ but in actual fact the first announcement of its impending publication came several years earlier when a notice was inserted in the Review for November 18, 1808 stating ‘a compendious history of Nottingham’ would shortly be ready for the press and requested ‘ladies and gentlemen’ to provide ‘any information, either family anecdotes or otherwise’ for inclusion in it. However, it was to be seven years before the History eventually came off Sutton’s press in successive parts. The author never explained the delay in publication, so perhaps he had been submerged under a veritable deluge of ‘family anecdotes’ from hordes of ‘ladies and gentlemen’. It is thought the History was never completed and its author had planned to issue further parts. 

Although Blackner’s radicalism is evident throughout the pages of his History, as, too, is his lack of respect for those lauded by most writers of his day as the great and good, it emerges with greatest clarity in chapter thirteen which describes events that occurred in Nottingham during his own lifetime and in some instances he may have even participated. This is the chapter even his harshest critics have been forced to acknowledge, albeit often with great reluctance, to give the book its particular value not just locally but nationally. Writing of the impact of the American and French revolutions in Nottingham, but which may be taken as reflecting what occurred in other industrial towns throughout the country, he says they divided it into two hostile camps, ‘the democrats and the aristocrats’. The former held ‘delegated authority’ was the only legitimate power and ‘titles of nobility’ were ‘as so many excrescences upon the body politic which ought to be cut off’. The ‘aristocrats’, in contrast, had `abandoned their rights as brother members of a community, and made unconditional submission to the will of the king, the nobility, and clergy the controlling article of their faith’.⁴⁷ 

However strong he sought to advance the cause of his fellow workers, Blackner never showed the least hesitation in criticising them when he considered this to be necessary. Thus he castigates ‘the rustics of Newthorpe’, a village near Nottingham, who, had behaved like the ‘sons of ignorance and prejudice in many other places, giving a show of their loyalty, by hanging, shooting and burning a bundle of straw, &c which they, in their manifest wisdom (his emphasis), intended to represent Thomas Paine, author of the Rights of Man’.⁴⁸ He goes on to state that having expended their ammunition they then sought to obtain a further supply from a local shop, but as it was dark and against the law to sell ammunition the shopkeeper refused their demands whereupon they attacked and damaged his shop.⁴⁹ Brought before the local Tory magistrates, these individuals put political bias before justice and sided with the accused, releasing them without penalty. A consequence of this was that when they later met the shopkeeper in the street they attacked him, but once more, as Blackner points out, nothing was done about it, indeed, he tells his readers, the shopkeeper was lucky to have escaped without serious injury. This incident appears to have influenced him in favour of the private possession of firearms, the right to hold them being, he argued, one which every Englishman had in order to defend his person, family and property when in peril. 

To return again to Blackner’s contributions to the Nottingham Review, these, as noted earlier, are difficult to determine with certainty due to contributions not being attributed to specific writers. The Review strongly supported the principles of the French Revolution and in one article it is asserted that the lessons of the Revolution had been lost on the British ruling class who ‘persevered in the old system, which springs from corruption, and breeds imbecility’⁵⁰ go Blackner was a strong supporter of the principles of the French Revolution, as his History indicates, so one is tempted to see this article as perhaps being his first contribution to the Review. Blackner also wrote verse, as noted earlier when reference was made to his 1805 pamphlet in which several pages are taken up by a resume of his argument set out in verse, and this suggests he may have contributed some the Review, but care should be taken in assuming political verses came from his pen as some years after his death the paper published a short poem bitterly critical of the lack of freedom in Britain which forced people to emigrate, had .Blackner been alive it may well have been attributed to him. Entitled, The Emigrant’s Farewell to his Country, it concludes: 

`To some more favor’d strand, where liberty

Still holds her sacred empire, I must go;

There under her sweet smile, learn to transfer

My warm affections to a happier land.⁵¹

Sometime during 1816 Blackner was struck down by a serious and ultimately fatal illness which may have been drink related, although no medical details are available. He had abandoned the evangelical Christianity of his youth for deism,⁵² perhaps having been influenced by The Age of Reason, though exactly what form his deism took is another matter as the term covered a spectrum of beliefs ranging from mysticism to atheism, however, he gives a vague clue in a letter he sent to Sutton on September 17, in response to one Sutton had sent him on July 12. In this he admits to having become an unbeliever, so it does not seem unreasonable to conclude that his position was rather nearer the last part of the spectrum than of the first.⁵³ As an associate of several years standing Sutton must have known of his colleague’s deism and his letter, presumably written after he had learned of Blackner’s state of health, was probably an attempt made out of real concern for what he would have considered the spiritual danger his friend was in. Whether Blackner saw it that way is uncertain, but his reply shows that whatever Sutton thought he considered his chances of a future life to be good, whatever mistakes he might have made. Nowhere in his reply does he specifically state he was a Christian. Readers, however, can judge for themselves as I reproduce Blackner’s letter in full as an appendix. Had he become a Christian I have no doubt that once the news was made public, perhaps in the pages of the Review, the news of the conversion of so celebrated a local deist would have come to Nottingham’s clergy like manna from heaven, the news being thundered forth from innumerable pulpits. But it never happened and Nottingham’s clergy were left to worry, as were their brethren elsewhere, about the spread of infidelism amongst the ‘the lower orders’. 

During the course of his letter to Sutton Blackner refers to having protected ‘professors of Christianity when they were unable to defend themselves against the scoffs and taunts of some of my more immediate acquaintances’, or when he was ‘ in indiscriminate company’. This seems to suggest that a group of unbelievers met together and at times deliberately set out to provoke their opponents. This would not have been unusual as it is known that from the late 18th century informal groups, who included apprentices, met in pubs to read and discuss political and deistical literature. In the late 1790s Nottingham radicals are said to have met at the Sun Inn on Pelham street, for allowing them to do so the landlady, a Mrs. Carter, was threatened with having her establishment burned down. 

John Blackner died on the morning of December 22, 1816, at the age of 47 following, according to a brief announcement in the Review, ‘a long and painful illness’,⁵⁴ being buried four days later in St. Mary’s churchyard, however, the site of his grave has long been lost, due, in all probability, to it being in one of the church’s three satellite burying grounds all of which were eventually to be built over. In 1911 a local antiquarian undertook a survey of the monuments in the churchyard surrounding St. Mary’s proper, parts of which have also been built over. His notes contain no reference to any monument to Blackner or any member of his family.⁵⁵ Recently the remains of a large number of people buried in one of the graveyards were uncovered when the foundations of Nottingham’s new National Ice Stadium were excavated, these may include those of Blackner, but no identification was attempted and they have been reburied in a communal grave at Wilford Hill which overlooks Nottingham.

There is currently no monument of any sort to Blackner in Nottingham, although there once was, for in 1900 a resident of the city left the Council £200 for erecting, as he put it, ‘tablets to mark the several spots within the city upon which events of historical interest have occurred’. One of these commemorated Blackner, being placed on the wall of the Rancliffe Arms. It bore the following inscription: ‘In this house / from 1813 to 1816 / lived / John Blackner / local historian / born 1769. Died 1816’.⁵⁶ The fate of this monument is not known, for following the demolition of the pub in the 1920s, when the area in which it stood was redeveloped, it disappeared. The present Council appears keen to commemorate celebrated citizens of the city so they may eventually get round to remembering John Blackner and also Charles Sutton. 

Blackner was survived by his wife Sarah, who became landlady of the Rancliffe Arms until her own death in August 1818, after which it passed into other hands. He was also survived by three daughters, Mary, Sarah and Letitia and two sons, Algernon and Lucius, – the’ latter having been apprenticed to Richard Sutton as a printer is 1815, finishing this in 1822, but unlike his father and older brother, he did not become a Freeman of the town (in the late 19th century Nottingham had been designated a city, hence my use of the two terms). Both married, Algernon to Susan Thatcher and Lucius to her sister Rebecca. Mary married a shoemaker named Lee, who had his premises near Sutton’s shop in Bridlesmith gate. 

Charles Sutton was released from prison in February 1817 and resumed running his newspaper and other businesses until he eventually handed them over to his son Richard. Like Blackner, Sutton was struck down by a painful illness and died on December 4, 1829. Richard Sutton continued to run the Nottingham Review, which by now had assumed a much more local bias. He was also radical in politics and became an active Chartist, his name appearing on some of their locally issued literature while his paper printed the National Charter in full not once but twice, although in common with his father he deplored violence and condemned those Chartists who advocated it, describing them as ‘assassins’ and urged `peaceful Chartists’ to distance themselves from the others.⁵⁷ 

As for the paper itself, its ‘long and honourable record of humanitarianism and radical agitation’,⁵⁸ as ‘a middle class journal with radical views’,⁵⁹ ceased in 1870 when the Sutton family merged it with another local paper. Richard Sutton remained radical in politics, being elected to the Town Council. He also remained an active Methodist, holding numerous offices in that sect and when he died in 1855 following a long illness he was laid to rest in the family vault in Nottingham’s Parliament Street Methodist church, now the Methodist Central Mission, to which Charles Sutton had made a generous contribution to its building fund. 

Although Charles Sutton preferred to restrict his political opinions anonymously to the pages of his paper, his few separately published essays being religious in character, John Blackner was never one to conceal his, and his outspokenness was to damn his reputation in the opinion of several later Nottingham historians. One such was Robert Mellors, who described him as ‘a violent politician’ who did ‘good service by compiling and publishing in 1815 his History of Nottinghamshire’.⁶⁰ This comment can be said, perhaps, to reveal rather more about its writer than about its target, for it shows Mellors to have been an individual incapable of distinguishing between firm opinions strongly expressed and violent language. Blackner was certainly guilty of the former but not of the latter. However, it may also show that he was uncritically repeating the opinion of an earlier writer, W.H. Wylie, who had expressed himself along similar lines. This led to Oldfield concluding that he had never read Blackner’s History,⁶¹ a conclusion with which I concur.

References and Notes

1. The reference is to Walter Tupman, printer of the Nottingham Gazette the editor and owner of which was Richard Eaton.

2. This refers to the burning of parts of Washington.

3. Nottinghamshire County Archives (NCA) 1001.

4. Aspinall, Arthur. Politics and the Press, 1780-1850. London, Home & Van Thai, 1949. p.353.

5. Home Office Papers, 47/6/393, 403, 471.

6. Cited in The /Theston Pioneer, 11/8/1922.

7. Fraser, D. The Nottingham Press, 1800-1850′. Transactions of the Thoroton Society. Vol. LXVII (1963). Nottingham, 1964. p.163.

8. Warren, C.J. ‘The Life of John Blackner’. Transactions of the Thornton Society (1926). VoI.XXX. Nottingham, 1927. p.163. The manuscript is said to have been written by the Nottingham antiquarian, John Crosby (1775-1846), its present whereabouts is not known.

9. Oldfield, G. Introduction to, Blackner, J. The History of Nottingham (1815). Amethyst Press reprint, Otley, 1985. p.viii.

10. Aspinall. op.cit p.352.

11. Aspinall. ibid.. p.135.

12. NCA- M. 1001.

13. Address to the Electors of Nottingham Nottingham, 1802.

14. Handbill, To the Benevolent. Nottingham, 1802. Including Sutton’s name were those of J.Carr, W.Morley, J.Bates, W. Follows and W. Huddlestone, all local tradesmen. Sutton is also given as being the printer.

15. Despard’s Ghast’s Address to theJacobins Nottingham, 1803.

16. Coke, D.C. Address to the Electors of Nottingham Nottingham, 1803.

17. For a discussion of the influence on Paine of Methodism see, George Hindmarch’s paper, ‘Thomas Paine: The Methodist Influence’. TPS Bulletin Vol.6. No.3. 1979. pp.59-78.

18. English, J.S. ‘John Blackner, A Worthy Son of Ilkeston’. Derbyshire Countryside Vol.26. No.5. 1961. p.31. This article appears to be a revised version of a typescript manuscript dated 1957 in the Local Studies Department of Ilkeston Public Library.

19. English. op.cit p.31.

20. Blackner, J. The Utility of Commerce Defended…. Nottingham, 1805. p.3. This was printed by Sutton but no publisher is given, so presumably it was self-published by Blackner.

21. For a criticism of a relatively recent picture of Paine being a drunk, that by Professor Hawke, see the present writer’s short article, The Character of Thomas Paine’, in The American Rationalist September/October, 1979. p.37.

22. English. ibid p.31.

23. Dalbiac, P.H. History of the 45: 1st Nottingham Regiment London, Swan Sonnenschein, 1902. pp.18 & 20.

24. Wood, A.G. A History of Nottinghamshire S.R.Publishers, 1971. p.288.

25. Godfrey, J.T. Ed. Manuscripts Relating to the County of Nottingham London, Henry Sotheran, 1900. p.81.

26. Warren. op.cit p.165.

27. Letter to Charles Sutton, NCA TS6/2/4.

28. I have been unable to locate a copy of this work, which is not listed in the British Library catalogue.

29. Freedom Triumphant over Oppression. Nottingham, 1803. The words were supposed to be sung to the tune of Poor Jack.

30. Blackner, J. Thoughts on the Late Change of Administration, containing a Contrasted Table of the Prices of Provisions…. Nottingham, for the author, (1807). p.9. No copy of this pamphlet I examined bears a printed date of publication, but a copy in the Nottingham Public Library’s Local Studies collection has the date 1807 inscribed on the cover in an old hand followed by a question mark. The content matter supports that date.

31. Blackner. 1807 op.cit p.12.

32. Blackner. 1807.ibid pp.14-15.

33. Blackner. 1807.ibid p.17.

34. Nottingham Journal 1/8/1801. In respect to the six year old, this case is mentioned by H.Mayhew and J,Binney in their book, The Criminal Prisons of London, Scenes of Prison Life London, Griffin, 1862. p.246, who received the information from “an old warden”.

35. Blackner, John. The History of Nottingham Nottingham, Sutton & Son, 1815. Reprint by Amethyst Press, Otley, 1985. pp. 308-309.

36. Warren. ibid p.161.

37. Nottingham Review. June 16, 1809.

38. Founded in 1806 and expired in 1824, although another paper with the same name was established.

39. Wylie, W.H. Old and New Nottingham London, Longman, Brown, Green & Longmans, 1853. pp.232-233.

40. The reference is to the Prime Minister, Spencer Perceval, who was assassinated on May 11, 1812 at the House of Commons by John Bellingham, who was tried, sentenced and hanged the following week even though considered to have

been mentally unstable.

41. The Bill referred to is 52 George III, c, 16 of February 1812, which made the breaking of machinery a capital offence. In May of the same year another Bill was enacted against administrating and receiving oaths.

42. NCA. M 297.

43. Bailey, Thomas. Annals of Nottinghamshire London, 18531855. Vol.4. p.286.

44. Wood. op.cit p.287.

45. Henson, G. The Civil, Political and Mechanical History of the Framework Knitters in Europe and America. Nottingham, Richard Sutton, 1831. David & Charles reprint, Newton Abbot, 1970. p.10.

46. Oldfield. Blackner. 1815 (1985). p.viii.

47. Blackner. 1815 (1985). p.386.

48. Blackner. 1815 (1985). p.389.

49. The sale of gunpowder in the evening was banned because of the fear of its discharge causing fires.

50. Nottingham Review. 18/11/1808.

51. Nottingham Review. 4/4/1817.

52. Warren. ibid p.165.

53. NCA TS6/2/4.

54. Nottingham Review. 27/12/1816.

55. NCA. M24,534/8.

56. Fry, T. Nottingham’s Plaques and Statues. Nottingham Civic Society. 1999. p.l.

57. Nottingham Review, 23/3/1839.

58. Wyncoll, P. Nottingham Chartism, Nottingham Workers in Revolt During the Nineteenth Century. Nottingham Trades Council, 1966. p.13.

59. Fraser. op.cit. p.58.

60. Mellors, Robert. Men of Nottingham and Nottinghamshire J.& H.Bell, Nottingham, 1924. pp.69-70.

61. Oldfield. Blackner. 1815 (1985). p.ix.

Acknowledgements 

The writer would like to place on record his thanks to the staffs of the Local History Department, Nottingham Central Library, the Nottinghamshire County Archives, the Library of the National Army Museum, the Archives and Manuscript section of Nottingham University Library, the British Library and the Local History Department of Ilkeston Public Library, for the assistance they gave him in tracking down various sources used in compiling this paper, and to Geoffrey Oldfield, who may not recall our brief discussion when we met by chance in Nottingham Central Library, for some pointers I followed up. 

Appendix 

Letter of September 17, 1816 from John Blackner to Charles Sutton. Some of the words are extremely difficult to recognise and where I have been unable to decide on them I have used approximates or just question marks. 

My Dear Sir (and permit me to add, my beloved friend),

Were you not acquainted with the cause of my silence, you would, ere now have concluded that either my head or my heart had received a strange bias, since I have hitherto not acknowledged your two fold enclosure letter of 16th of July, a letter which drew from mine eyes so many tears of affection and gratitude to you, for having given your honourable assurance on favour of my dear boy, Lucius, in case of my death – and so many thanks from my heart to Divine Providence, for having given you so large a share of Christian benevolence; for certain I am that it must be Divine interposition(?) that so many and such worthy friends are raised around me in this my hour of mortal peril and affliction, friends that increase their assiduity (?) and affections the stroke of death seems to approach. How much these circumstances and the reflections arising from them as commending (?) with the propelling care of the Deity on my behalf – how much these things disarm death of its mighty terrors since (? ? ?) till except those that feel as I do. And placing my dear family outside the pale of this question, there is no earthly circumstance dependent on private friendship which would add so much to my satisfaction as that of seeing you! The Almighty will grant the favour if it be according to his dispensation, which would gladden my heart exceedingly, otherwise I shall submit with calm resignation. However you say you pray for me, and I hope that you will continue to do so, for I have great reason to believe that your prayers have been attended to by heaven (?). I must not forget too to say that your Son, on my showing him your letter, gave me a verbal pledge respecting Lucius to the same effect as yours, which added greatly to my satisfaction, and assured to him every possible indication of kindness which can flow from a grateful heart. 

I will now turn to the more serious part of your letter. You there notice a previous expression of mine, wherein I said that my life had not been the most Christian! One position you draw from it is that all men from a principle of common honesty ought to make the same declaration. But you suppose too that I might possibly mean by that representation that I “have doubted or disbelieved the truths of Christianity”. And you conclude your observations thereon by saying, supposing this to be my meaning, “I am truly sorry should this be the case because it seems to me to block up the way to happiness – it places a barrier in the way and leaves not a ray of hope, as far as we can learn from Divine revelation”. Now my dear friend, it is very possible I may mistake your meaning, but if I do not, according to your opinion / am left without a ray of hope for here I must candidly acknowledge to my great sorrow that I have been a disbeliever of Christianity as far as the inexperience and heated passions of early manhood and the (the next word is impossible to read) principles of certain publications could unseat the happy notions under which I was brought up in my younger years if the divine infusions of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. But so far from my having been a persecutor of Christianity I was always its professed and sincere supporter (unconnected with political establishments) from a conviction that its influence is necessary to intimidate the more depraved part of society from the confusions of errors(?), and many times during my most disbelieving career, have I protected professors of Christianity when unable by language to defend themselves against the scoffs and taunts of some of my more immediate acquaintances or in indiscriminate company. But the professors of Christianity whose conduct, as well in public as private life, I can most conscientiously declare, that the conduct of people of this description, whose practices I have had so many occasions to examine, had a very great shame in abusing me from a belief in Christianity through a mistaken notion of confounding principles with practices guided too by that species of dangerous ambition the triumph of which lies in twisting reasons(?) from the crimes and crimes of others with which to locate those trammels(?) of religion that impede the passions(?) in their progress after short-lived and, I may say, tormenting gratifications.

But, my dear friend, to the more immediate point in hand when I read the above quoted passages in your letter, I was more astonished than alarmed, because I knew with the kindest intentions towards my mortal(?), and most anxious solicitude for the welfare of my immortal part it was far more likely that you should err than the Scriptures should, and because it was very likely that I might mistake your meaning, considering myself so inadequate to doctrinal discussion when compared with your life of study and experience therein. However, supposing I have not mistaken your meaning I will proceed to show as far as I am able that my having “disbelieved the divine truth of Christianity”, though you will in charity measure this disbelief by my declaration made (unreadable) I am not left without hope – Christ says, Matthew V and 6 – VIII and 7 – IX and 28 – XVIII and IL Blessed are they which hunger and thirst after righteousness for they shall be filled – Ask and it shall be given you; seek and you shall find; knock and it shall be opened unto you! – Come unto me all ye that labor (sic) and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest – For the Son of Man is come to save that which is lost. 

Now, Sir, can anything be more consoling to a poor sinner “hungering after righteousness” that “labours and is heavy laden”? Could it be possible that I might have the choice of a lengthened and healthy and happy old age with prospect of wealth, &c. or of being a partaker of those divine promises with an exclusion of one of the conditions my heart would bounce with the eagerness of expressing my anxiety of seizing the divine promise, without the rriosidistant lingering wish hanging on the mind regardless of life, health, wealth and all the concomitant gratifications in their train. ‘Such thanks be given to God, are my settled(?) thoughts”. And would my trembling hand perform its accustomed duty with the pen, I would copy many more scripture passages which assure me of salvation, (unreadable), however, from its peculiar sweetness(?) and its sound having lingered in my ears during Meng-eight years, I will transcribe. It is the last of Revelations and 17th. “And the spirit and the bride say come, and that he that heareth say come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will let him take the water of life freely”. 

My sins are grievous it is true and were all the good I have attempted to do not to be taken into account by the Almighty, which I think it certainly will, yet the divine promises are so extensive and the invitations so universal, that to despair regarding them, in my humble opinion would be insulting the Deity, and adding to the long list of sins already on record against me. 

I remain, Dr Sir, 

yours most sincerely. 

John Blackner 

PS. 

It was my intention to have entered into a short statement of my change of opinion and the causes thereof but the kind anxiety expressed in your letter of the 12th and the great difficulty I have in (unreadable) to write at all have induced me to close this but will resume if possible.

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Last December my wife and I moved from a sizable bungalow to a flat for oldies (sheltered accommodation). Losing our loft necessitated shedding many books and loads of paper going back many years – the accumulation of an indiscriminate hoarder! There are still box loads which have yet to be pruned to yield further fascinating discoveries. One recent treasure to emerge was a slim booklet (price twopence) of 51 pages, which I had studied in late schooldays, more than sixty years ago. It was an encyclical Letter emanating from Pope Leo XIII entitled Rerum Novarurn, with the English subtitle, The Workers Charter, published in 1891. I still remember being impressed with it at the time (probably 1939).

With great interest I again read the opening paragraph and, in the light of other material studied since then, my immediate reaction was: “That could have come from the pen of Thomas Paine”. Then I noticed the date; 1891 was the centenary of Rights of Man. Could this mean that the Pope, or one of his advisers, being familiar with Paine’s work, and considering relevant changes through the intervening century, decided that the time was ripe for reassessment and fresh recommendations? 

I have gone back to Rights of Man and compared it carefully with The Workers Charter. I would find it hard to believe that this new work, coming on the centenary of Paine’s, was merely coincidence and of no further significance. But, although there is evidence, I cannot assert proof. It has been suggested to me that this is another instance of Paine being plagiarised, as he was by Edmund Burke, but this is not so, because nowhere in the papal document is Paine quoted either with or without acknowledgement. 

So let us consider the writing and leave readers to reach their own conclusions, either from what I present, or from studying the original texts which are still readily available. But, first let us consider why the papacy might fail to acknowledge a philosophic debt to Paine. Christian denominations in general were affronted by his publication in 1793-95 of The Age of Reason and ceased to rate what he had previously achieved. So it might have been considered poor tactics for the Vatican to acknowledge him at that time. 

The Age of Reason which adopted the Deist philosophy of Robespierre and other French philosophers was highly critical of Judeo-Christian scripture, although Paine’s background was certainly Christian and his Rights of Man reflects this. His mother was Anglican, the church in which he was baptised, confirmed and married. His father was a Quaker and he writes of: the affectionate and moral remonstrance of a good father. In early days at Grantham he heard John Wesley preach and followed him for a time into Methodism as a lay preacher, hoping to be ordained, but in this he was stymied due to his lack of Latin and Greek. Later, after experience in America and France he would proclaim, “My country is the world and my religion is to do good”; whilst criticising “governments, putting themselves beyond the law as well of God as of Man”. 

There can be no doubt as to his moral approach in considering the ills besetting society at that time, and most of this is to be found in Rights of Man, Part II, chapter 5, ‘Ways and Means’, where his opening comment is on ‘widespread poverty and wretchedness…. in countries that are called civilised we see age going to the workhouse and youth to the gallows…. Why is it that scarcely any are executed but the poor? Bred up without morals, and cast upon the world without a prospect, they are the exposed sacrifice of vice and legal barbarity’. 

He blames much on inequity in taxation by saying that, ‘Civilised relationships between nations could reduce taxation’. Poor Rates he saw as a direct tax with a considerable part of its revenue expended in litigation, ‘in which the poor, instead of being relieved are tormented’. These rates effect the labourer who ‘is not sensible of this, because it is disguised to him in the articles which he buys’. Is this so different from the VAT we have today, which inevitably falls most heavily on the poorest in society since many essentials cannot be purchased without paying up? He goes on to comment that ‘the poor are generally composed of large families of children and old people past their labour’. He pleads for `good provision for primary education’, also to address ‘problems of the aged, ex-soldiers, worn out servants, poor widows and middling tradesmen’. This should be a matter of ‘enlightened support… and not a matter of grace and favour’.

Then he summarises his major recommendations: Family allowance, old age pensions, a marriage grant, maternity benefit, a death grant for funeral expenses, provision for the casual poor in inner cities (our cardboard cities today), Army and Navy pensions, provision for widows with children to maintain, and Education for all, commenting that: ‘It is monarchical and aristocratic government only that requires ignorance for its support,… Many a youth comes up to London with little or no money, and unless he gets immediate employment he is already undone…. Hunger is not among the postponable wants.’ 

Finally, returning to worship and belief he reviews his own situation: `Why may we not suppose that the great Father of all is pleased with variety in devotion’ (he would surely welcome today’s ecumenicism).’I am fully pleased with what I am now now doing, with an endeavour to conciliate mankind, to render his condition happy, to unite nations that have hitherto been enemies… to break the chains of slavery and oppression, is acceptable in His sight, and being the best service I can perform, I act it cheerfully’. 

In Rights of Man Part I, in his ‘Observation on the Declaration of Rights’ by the French National Assembly, he comments on the query raised: whether the tenth article sufficiently guarantees the right it is intended to accord with. This article states that: no man ought to be molested on account of his opinions, provided his avowal of them does not disturb the public order established by law. He then comments, ‘It takes off from the divine dignity of religion and weakens its operative force upon the mind, to make it a subject of human laws’, adding in a significant footnote: 

`There is a single idea which, if it strikes rightly upon the mind either in a legal sense, will prevent any man, or any body of men, or any government, from going wrong on the subject of religion which is that before any institution of government was known in the world there existed, if I may so express it, a compact between God. and Man, from the beginning of time; and that as the relation and condition which man in his individual person stands in towards his Maker, cannot be changed, or anyway altered by any human laws or human authority, that as religious devotion, which is part of this compact, cannot be made subject of human laws; and that all laws must conform themselves to this prior existing compact, and not assume to make the compact conform to the laws, which besides being human, are subsequent thereto. The first act of man, when he looked around and saw himself a creature which he did not make, and a world furnished for his reception, must have been devotion, and a devotion must ever continue sacred to every man, as it appears right to him; and governments do mischief by interfering’.

He also touches lightly on Workmen’s Wages, a topic scarcely considered in society generally at that time and where he had his own very bitter experience, when his first pamphlet, The Case of the Officers of Excise (1772), caused him to he dismissed from that service, whose members had no Association to argue for their rights, so that his campaign was largely single-handed. He stood alone and could be swept aside! 

So how does all this impinge on Pope Leo XIII in 1891 with his Workers’ Charter? Much had changed in the course of a century, but much still remained for the following century. We start where his thesis has just left off with Worker’s Rights and the need for Organised Labour, since that is where his Encyclical kicks off, considering: ‘The fortunes of the few and poverty of the masses’, the need for ‘self reliance and mutual combination of workers…relative rights and mutual duties of rich and poor, capital and labour’, then commenting on ‘ the ‘misery and wretchedness’ experienced by a ‘majority of the working class’ due to the `hard heartedness of employers…greed of unchecked competition by covetous and grasping men…little better than slavery itself. 

Next comes a note of caution regarding Socialism which is ‘striving to do away with private property’ and warning that the ‘working man… would be the first to suffer’. But here there is obvious confusion between what we now regard as Socialism and atheistic Communism, and remembering that the Russian Revolution is still some decade ahead, we can understand that the far sighted Paine would never have approved of Stalin’s system. The Charter asserts the ‘motive if work is to obtain property’ 2hich it sees as ‘necessary for maintenance and educa- tion…every man having by nature the right to possess property as his own. … For man… being master of his own acts, guides his way under the eternal law and power of God. … Man precedes the State…and there is no-one who does not sustain life from what the land produces… providing that private ownership is in accordance with the law of nature…the results of labour should belong to those who have bestowed their labour’. But we should question whether if labour is bestowed on behalf of an employer the produce should then belong to the labourer? Paine would hardly have gone that far. 

‘A father should provide food and necessities for those he has begotten… but extreme necessity should be met by public aid. … Paternal authority can neither be abolished nor absorbed by the state’. The Charter goes on to assert that ‘the child belongs to the father’, but modern theology surely rejects such an extreme view, and would concede that a father who fails in his responsibility or abuses his child must, in extreme cases, give way to properly constituted, caring authority. What would Paine say?

The Charter, as we would expect, has much to say on the role of the Church, and in particular in upholding the rights of labour, asserting that ‘men will be vain if they leave out the Church’. However, there have been times when the Church has lapsed into a state of decadence, and lost its authority. Paine, in France during the Revolution, was well aware of this, as were many others. It is worth consulting Hilaire Belloc’s small tract on the French Revolution. A firm Catholic himself and born in France (though with an English mother, descended from Joseph Priestley) he strongly asserts the Church was merely reaping what it had sown through autocracy, arrogance and the aristocratic attitude of hierarchy, hand-in-glove with aristocracy. However, by the end of the 19th century much had changed and Pope Leo was standing on firmer ground. His Charter asserts that ‘the Church improves and betters the conditions of working men by means of various organisations’. 

However, it is ‘impossible to reduce society to one dead level. …People differ in capacity, etc.’, although this is a ‘mistaken notion that class is naturally hostile to class. …Religion teaches the wealthy owner and employer that work people are not bondsmen. …Labour for wages is not a thing to be ashamed of. …Employers must never tax workers beyond their strength, nor employ them in work unsuited to sex or age. …Man should not consider his material possessions as his own, but as common to all, so as to share them without hesitation when others are in need…giving to the indigent out of what is over…remembering that: It is more blessed to give than to receive (Acts XX:35). Christian morality…leads to temporal prosperity…restrains greed for possessions and thirst for pleasure’. 

`Safety of commonwealth is government’s reason for existence. …When the general interest of any particular class suffers…public authority must step in. …Rights must be religiously respected. …It is the duty of the public authority to prevent and punish injury, and to protect everyone in the possession of his own. …The richer class have many ways of shielding themselves’. 

Next the issue of Strikes is addressed: ‘The chief thing is the duty of safeguarding private property by legal enactment of protection. Most of all it is essential, where passion of greed is so strong, to keep people within the line of duty, for if all may strive to better their condition, neither justice nor the common good allows any individual to seize upon that which belongs to another, or, under the futile and shallow pretext of equality, to lay violent hands upon other people’s possessions. Most true is that by far the larger part of the workers prefer to better themselves by honest labour rather than by doing any wrong to others. But there are not a few who are imbued with evil principles and eager for revolutionary change, whose main purpose is to stir up disorder and incite their fellows to acts of violence. …When working-people have recourse to strike it is frequently because the hours of labour are too long, or the work too hard, or because they consider their wages insufficient. The grave inconvenience of this is not uncommon occurrence and should be obviated by public remedial measures; for such paralysing of labour, not only effects the masters and their work-people alike, but is extremely injurious to trade and to the general interests of the public. …The laws should forestall and prevent such troubles from arising; they should lend their influence and authority to the removal, in good time, of the causes which lead to such conflicts’.

It is also important, ‘to save unfortunate working-people from the cruelty of men of greed, who use human beings as mere instruments of money making. …Those who work in mines and quarries should have shorter hours in proportion as their labour is more severe and trying to health. …In regard to children care should be taken not to place them in workshops and factories until their bodies and minds are sufficiently developed’. In general, ‘proper rest should be allowed for soul and body’. And there is an ‘obligation of the cessation of work on the Sabbath’. 

A Living Wage: ‘…Without the result of labour a man cannot live, and self-preservation is a law of nature’. A Just Wage: `Let the working man and the employer make free agreements. …Wages ought not to be insufficient to support a frugal and well behave wage earner. …Circumstances, times and localities vary widely, for example, hours of labour in different trades, the sanitary conditions to be observed in factories and workshops. …Thus it is advisable that recourse should be had to (appropriate) Societies and Boards’. 

`The law should favour ownership and its policy should be to induce as many as possible to become owners. …Property will become more equitably divided. …The result of civil change and revolution has been to divide society. …On one side is the party which holds power because it holds wealth…on the other is the needy and powerless multitude. …Men always work harder and more readily when they work on that which belongs to them…provided that a man’s means be not drained by excessive taxation’.

The Encyclical turns next to: ‘Societies for mutual help and benevolent foundations established by private persons to provide for the workmen and his widow or orphans in case of sudden calamity, in sickness and in the event of death, institutions for the welfare of youngsters and the elderly’. Then to Trade Unions: ‘Most important are Working Men’s Unions. …History attests what excellent results were brought about by the Artificers Guilds of olden times. …It is gratifying to know that there are not a few associations of this kind (at present) consisting of workmen alone, or of workmen and employers together’. Then, quoting Holy Writ: ‘Woe to him that is alone, for when he failed’ he has none to lift him up’ (Ecclesiastics IV:10). And further, ‘A brother that is helped by his brother is like a strong city’ (Proverbs XVIII:19). 

Next, on doubtful organisations: …’Many of these societies are in the hands if secret leaders, and are managed on principles ill-according to Christianity and the public well being; and that they do their utmost to get within their grasp the whole field of labour, forcing men either to join them or starve’. Then to the contrary influence of religion: ‘…that Gospel, which by inculcating self restrain, keeps men within the bounds of moderation, and tends to establish harmony among the divergent interests and the various classes which compose the state. …There are not wanting Catholics blessed with affluence, who have cast in their lot with the wage-earners, and who have spent large sums in founding and widely spreading Benefit and Insurance Societies, by which the working man may acquire…the certainty of honourable support in days to come. … Working-men’s associations should be so organised and governed as to furnish the best and most suitable means of attaining what is aimed at…for helping each individual member to better his condition’. 

In the relevant Societies, ‘It is important that the office bearers be appointed with due prudence and discretion’, to ensure that ‘difference in degree or standing should not interfere with unanimity and goodwill. …Prejudice is mighty and so is the greed of money’. 

Then in final summary: ‘…Masters and wealthy owners must be mindful of their duty; the working-class, whose interests are at stake, should make every lawful and proper effort. …The main thing needful is to return to real Christianity. …All must earnestly cherish in themselves, and try to arouse in others, charity…which is the fulfilling of the whole Gospel law, which is always ready to sacrifice itself for others’ sake, and is man’s surest antidote against worldly pride and immoderate love of self. Then, rounding off with a quotation from St.Paul on Charity, which simply means Love: ‘Charity is patient, is kind, …seeketh not her own…suffereth all things…endureth all things’ (I Corinthians XIII:4-7). 

A true appeal for tolerance and understanding. 

It is inevitable that readers will react in a variety of ways to what has been presented here, and it must be appreciated that the material has had to be edited, and considerably and selectively reduced, but with material from both sources which, not surprisingly, has its own bias. The aim has been not to introduce any fresh bias, but to present the extracted text as truly and as simply as the task demanded. Then, in the final analysis, any and every reader can search out the original texts to verify what has been on offer. I myself have a high regard for both Thomas Paine and Pope Leo; I would not wish deliberately to misrepresent either.

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