measures. I have likewise an aversion to monarchy, as being too
debasing to the dignity of man; but I never troubled others with my
notions till very lately, nor ever published a syllable in England
in my life. What I write is pure nature, and my pen and my soul have
ever gone together. My writings I have always given away, reserving
only the expense of printing and paper, and sometimes not even that. I
never courted either fame or interest, and my manner of life, to those
who know it, will justify what I say. My study is to be useful, and if
your lordship loves mankind as well as I do, you would, seeing you
cannot conquer us, cast about and lend your hand towards accomplishing
a peace. Our independence with God's blessing we will maintain against
all the world; but as we wish to avoid evil ourselves, we wish not
to inflict it on others. I am never over-inquisitive into the
secrets of the cabinet, but I have some notion that, if you neglect
the present opportunity, it will not be in our power to make a
separate peace with you afterwards; for whatever treaties or alliances
we form, we shall most faithfully abide by; wherefore you may be
deceived if you think you can make it with us at any time. A lasting
independent peace is my wish, end and aim; and to accomplish that, I
pray God the Americans may never be defeated, and I trust while they
have good officers, and are well commanded, and willing to be
commanded, that they NEVER WILL BE.

                                                   COMMON SENSE.

  PHILADELPHIA, Jan. 13, 1777.

                                 III.

  IN THE progress of politics, as in the common occurrences of life,
we are not only apt to forget the ground we have travelled over, but
frequently neglect to gather up experience as we go. We expend, if I
may so say, the knowledge of every day on the circumstances that
produce it, and journey on in search of new matter and new
refinements: but as it is pleasant and sometimes useful to look
back, even to the first periods of infancy, and trace the turns and
windings through which we have passed, so we may likewise derive
many advantages by halting a while in our political career, and taking
a review of the wondrous complicated labyrinth of little more than
yesterday.

  Truly may we say, that never did men grow old in so short a time! We
have crowded the business of an age into the compass of a few
months, and have been driven through such a rapid succession of
things, that for the want of leisure to think, we unavoidably wasted
knowledge as we came, and have left nearly as much behind us as we
brought with us: but the road is yet rich with the fragments, and,
before we finally lose sight of them, will repay us for the trouble of
stopping to pick them up.

  Were a man to be totally deprived of memory, he would be incapable
of forming any just opinion; every thing about him would seem a chaos:
he would have even his own history to ask from every one; and by not
knowing how the world went in his absence, he would be at a loss to
know how it ought to go on when he recovered, or rather, returned to
it again. In like manner, though in a less degree, a too great
inattention to past occurrences retards and bewilders our judgment
in everything; while, on the contrary, by comparing what is past
with what is present, we frequently hit on the true character of both,
and become wise with very little trouble. It is a kind of
counter-march, by which we get into the rear of time, and mark the
movements and meaning of things as we make our return. There are
certain circumstances, which, at the time of their happening, are a
kind of riddles, and as every riddle is to be followed by its
answer, so those kind of circumstances will be followed by their
events, and those events are always the true solution. A
considerable space of time may lapse between, and unless we continue
our observations from the one to the other, the harmony of them will
pass away unnoticed: but the misfortune is, that partly from the
pressing necessity of some instant things, and partly from the
impatience of our own tempers, we are frequently in such a hurry to
make out the meaning of everything as fast as it happens, that we
thereby never truly understand it; and not only start new difficulties
to ourselves by so doing, but, as it were, embarrass Providence in her
good designs.

  I have been civil in stating this fault on a large scale, for, as it
now stands, it does not appear to be levelled against any particular
set of men; but were it to be refined a little further, it might
afterwards be applied to the Tories with a degree of striking
propriety: those men have been remarkable for drawing sudden
conclusions from single facts. The least apparent mishap on our
side, or the least seeming advantage on the part of the enemy, have
determined with them the fate of a whole campaign. By this hasty
judgment they have converted a retreat into a defeat; mistook
generalship for error; while every little advantage purposely given
the enemy, either to weaken their strength by dividing it, embarrass
their councils by multiplying their objects, or to secure a greater
post by the surrender of a less, has been instantly magnified into a
conquest. Thus, by quartering ill policy upon ill principles, they
have frequently promoted the cause they designed to injure, and
injured that which they intended to promote.

  It is probable the campaign may open before this number comes from
the press. The enemy have long lain idle, and amused themselves with
carrying on the war by proclamations only. While they continue their
delay our strength increases, and were they to move to action now,
it is a circumstantial proof that they have no reinforcement coming;
wherefore, in either case, the comparative advantage will be ours.
Like a wounded, disabled whale, they want only time and room to die