Part II: Preface

When I began the chapter called “Conclusion” in the earlier part of the RIGHTS OF MAN, published last year, I meant to make it longer. But considering all that I wished to add, I found I would either make the work too bulky or compress my plan too tightly. I therefore closed it as soon as the subject allowed and reserved the rest for another occasion.

Several other reasons led me to this decision. Before continuing, I wanted to learn how a work so unlike what England was used to, in both thought and expression, would be received. The French Revolution was opening a vast field to humanity’s view. Mr. Burke’s outrageous opposition brought the controversy to England. He attacked principles he knew, from information he had received, that I would contest with him, because I believe them good, helped establish them, and feel bound to defend them. Had he not pressed the controversy, I would probably have remained silent.

Another reason for postponing the remainder was Mr. Burke’s promise in his first publication to return to the subject and compare what he called the English and French Constitutions. I therefore held myself in reserve for him. He has since published two works without making that comparison; he certainly would not have neglected it if it favored him.

In his latest work, his “Appeal from the New to the Old Whigs,” he quotes about ten pages from the RIGHTS OF MAN, only to say, after all that trouble, that he “shall not attempt in the smallest degree to refute them”—that is, the principles contained there. I know Mr. Burke well enough to know he would refute them if he could. Instead of arguing against them, he immediately consoles himself by saying that “he has done his part.” He has not done his part. He has not made his promised comparison of constitutions. He opened the controversy, issued the challenge, and fled from it; now he himself exemplifies his opinion that “the age of chivalry is gone!”

The very title of his last work, his “Appeal,” condemns him, as does its substance. Principles must stand on their own merits; good ones certainly will. To shelter them behind the authority of other men, as Mr. Burke has done, is to cast suspicion on them. Mr. Burke is seldom eager to share his honors, but here he is artfully sharing the disgrace.

But to whom has Mr. Burke appealed? To a set of childish thinkers and halfhearted politicians born in the last century, men who pursued no principle further than party advantage allowed. The nation never entered into their calculations, and that has been true of every party from then until now. The nation sees nothing in such works or such politics worth its attention. A small matter will stir a party; only something great will stir a nation.

Though I see little in Mr. Burke’s “Appeal” worth noticing, one expression calls for a few remarks. After quoting extensively from the RIGHTS OF MAN and declining to challenge its principles, he writes: “This will most probably be done (if such writings shall be thought to deserve any other refutation than that of criminal justice) by others, who may think with Mr. Burke and with the same zeal.”

First, nobody has yet done it. I believe no fewer than eight or ten pamphlets intended to answer the earlier part of the RIGHTS OF MAN have appeared, written by different people; to my knowledge, not one has reached a second edition, and even their titles are scarcely remembered. Averse to multiplying publications without need, I have answered none of them. And knowing that a man can write away his own reputation when nobody else can, I take care to avoid that danger.

While I decline needless publications, I also wish to avoid any appearance of sullen pride. If Mr. Burke, or anyone on his side, produces an answer to the RIGHTS OF MAN that circulates to half, or even a fourth, of the number of copies the Rights Of Man reached, I will reply. Until then I shall take the public’s judgment as my guide so far—and the world knows I am no flatterer—that what it does not think worth reading is not worth my answering. I suppose the first part of the RIGHTS OF MAN, across England, Scotland, and Ireland, circulated in no fewer than between forty and fifty thousand copies.

I turn now to the rest of the passage I quoted from Mr. Burke.

“If,” he says, “such writings shall be thought to deserve any other refutation than that of criminal justice.”

Pardon the pun, but it would be criminal justice indeed to condemn a work in place of refuting it. The strongest possible condemnation of the work would be a refutation. Under the method Mr. Burke suggests, however, the final verdict would condemn the criminality of the proceedings rather than the book. In that event I would rather be its author than the judge or juror who condemned it.

But let me come directly to the point. I have disagreed with some members of the legal profession about prosecutions; I now find they are coming around to my view, which I shall state here as fully and concisely as possible.

I shall first take the case of a law, then compare it to government, or to what in England is, or has been, called a constitution.

It would be despotic—an exercise of what England calls arbitrary power—to enact a law forbidding inquiry into the principles, good or bad, on which that law or any other is founded.

If a law is bad, it is one thing to defy it in practice, and quite another to expose its errors, reason about its defects, and explain why it should be repealed or replaced. I have always believed, and acted on the belief, that it is better to obey a bad law while making every argument to expose its errors and secure its repeal than to violate it by force. Setting a precedent of breaking a bad law could weaken good laws as well and invite people to violate them whenever they chose.

The same holds for the principles and forms of government, and for what are called constitutions and their constituent parts.

Government ought to be established for the good of nations, not the profit or aggrandizement of particular individuals; it is for the former that humanity pays to sustain it. By the same reasoning, the defects in the principles and forms of every government and constitution must be as open to discussion as those of a law; every person owes society the duty of pointing them out. Once a nation generally recognizes those defects and the means of remedying them, it will reform its government or constitution, just as a government repeals or reforms a law. Government’s operations are limited to making and administering laws. The right to form and reform, to create and recreate constitutions and governments, belongs to a nation. Investigation of these subjects is therefore always a country’s right, and making such inquiry grounds for prosecution would violate that country’s general rights. On this ground I will meet Mr. Burke whenever he wishes. Better to bring the whole argument into the open than try to stifle it. He himself began the controversy and should not abandon it.

I do not believe monarchy and aristocracy will survive another seven years in any enlightened European country. If stronger reasons support them than oppose them, they will stand; if not, they will fall. Humanity can no longer be told not to think or read. Publications that merely investigate the principles of government, invite people to reason and reflect, and show the faults and virtues of different systems have a right to appear. If they attract no attention, prosecution is not worth the trouble; if they do, prosecution will achieve nothing, since it cannot prevent people from reading. That would be to sentence the public instead of the author, and the surest way to bring on or hasten revolution.

In matters concerning a whole nation’s system of government, a jury of twelve people is not competent to decide. Where there are no witnesses to examine or facts to prove, where the entire question lies before the public and its merits depend on public opinion, and where the court knows nothing that everyone outside it does not know, any twelve people are as good a jury as any others. Their verdicts would probably contradict one another, or their varied opinions would prevent them from reaching one. Whether a nation approves a work or plan is one question; whether it will grant such a jury power to decide if it has the right to reform its government, or whether it may do so, is quite another. I set out these cases so Mr. Burke can see that I have written about Government while also reflecting on Law and Rights. The only effective jury in such cases would be a fairly elected convention of the whole nation, for in these matters the whole nation is the community from which a jury must be drawn. If Mr. Burke proposes such a jury, I will set aside every privilege arising from my citizenship of another country and my defense of its principles, and abide by its decision, provided he does the same. I believe his work and principles, rather than mine, would be condemned.

As for the prejudices education and habit give people in favor of a particular form or system of government, these have yet to face the test of reason and reflection. In truth, such prejudices amount to nothing. Nobody favors a thing while knowing it is wrong; a person is attached to it because it is believed right, and the prejudice will vanish when that belief is disproved. Our conception of prejudice is incomplete. Until people think for themselves, everything might be called prejudice rather than opinion; only what results from reason and reflection is properly opinion. I make this observation lest Mr. Burke place too much confidence in the country’s customary prejudices.

I do not believe the people of England have ever been treated fairly or honestly. Parties and self-appointed leaders have deceived them. It is time the nation rose above such trifles. It is time to cast off the indifference that has so long encouraged taxation to be stretched to excess. It is time to abandon the songs and toasts designed to enslave people and smother reflection. People need only think about these matters to avoid wrongdoing and deception. To say a people are unfit for freedom is to say they choose poverty and would rather be burdened with taxes than free of them. If that could be proved, it would equally prove their rulers unfit to govern, since rulers belong to the same national body.

But even if governments change throughout Europe, the changes can certainly occur without upheaval or revenge. Changes and revolutions are not worth making unless they bring some great national benefit. When that benefit becomes clear to a nation, those in danger will be, as in America and France, the opponents of change. With that thought I close my Preface.

THOMAS PAINE

London, Feb. 9, 1792

When I started the chapter called “Conclusion” in the first part of Rights of Man, published last year, I planned to make it longer. But when I thought through everything I wanted to add, I realized it would either make the book too large or force me to cut my plan too sharply. So I finished the chapter as soon as I could do justice to its subject, and saved the rest for another time.

Other reasons also led me to this decision. Before going further, I wanted to see how people would receive a book whose thinking and language were different from what England was used to. The French Revolution was opening up a vast new field of thought for humanity. Mr. Burke's fierce opposition brought the debate to England. He attacked principles he knew, from what he had heard, I would defend. I believe in those principles, have helped establish them, and feel bound to defend them. If he had not started this dispute, I probably would have said nothing.

I also delayed the rest of the book because Mr. Burke promised in his first publication to return to the subject and compare what he called the English and French Constitutions. I held back to wait for him. Since then he has published two books without making the comparison. He certainly would have made it if it favored his position.

In his latest book, “Appeal from the New to the Old Whigs,” he quotes about ten pages of Rights of Man. After taking the trouble to quote them, he says he “shall not attempt in the smallest degree to refute them,” meaning the principles those pages contain. I know Mr. Burke well enough to know he would refute them if he could. Instead, he immediately consoles himself by saying that “he has done his part.” He has not done his part. He has not kept his promise to compare the constitutions. He began the dispute and issued the challenge, then ran away from it. Now his own claim that “the age of chivalry is gone!” applies to him.

Both the title and the contents of his latest book, his “Appeal,” count against him. Principles must succeed on their own merits, and good ones will do so. Mr. Burke's attempt to hide them behind other people's authority only makes them suspect. He does not usually like to share credit, but here he cleverly shares the disgrace.

And to whom does Mr. Burke appeal? To childish thinkers and politicians who stopped halfway, born in the last century. They followed principles only as far as those principles served their party. They always left the nation out of it, as every party has done from then until now. The nation finds nothing in such books or politics worth its attention. A small issue can stir a party, but only a great issue stirs a nation.

I find little in Mr. Burke's “Appeal” worth discussing, but I will comment on one remark. After quoting at length from Rights of Man and refusing to dispute its principles, he writes: “This will most probably be done (if such writings shall be thought to deserve any other refutation than that of criminal justice) by others, who may think with Mr. Burke and with the same zeal.”

First, nobody has done it yet. At least eight or ten pamphlets by different writers have tried to answer the first part of Rights of Man. As far as I know, not one has reached a second edition, and people do not even generally remember their titles. I do not want to multiply publications without need, so I have answered none of them. I also believe a writer can destroy his own reputation when nobody else can, and I take care to avoid that danger.

But just as I avoid unnecessary publications, I do not want to look stubbornly proud. If Mr. Burke, or anyone on his side, writes a reply to Rights of Man that sells half as many copies, or even a quarter as many, as Rights of Man, I will answer it. Until then, I will let the public's judgment guide me to this extent, though everyone knows I do not flatter the public: a book they do not find worth reading is not worth my answering. I estimate that the first part of Rights of Man sold no fewer than between forty and fifty thousand copies in England, Scotland, and Ireland.

Now I will address the rest of the passage I quoted from Mr. Burke.

“If,” he says, “such writings shall be thought to deserve any other refutation than that of criminal justice.”

Forgive the play on words, but justice really would be criminal if it condemned a book in place of answering it with arguments. The strongest judgment against the book would be a successful refutation. If Mr. Burke's method were used instead, the ultimate judgment would fall on the criminal nature of the proceedings, not on the book. In that case I would rather have written the book than be the judge or a member of the jury that condemned it.

Let me come straight to the point. I have disagreed with some legal professionals about prosecutions, and I now find they are coming around to my view. I will state it as fully and briefly as I can.

First I will consider any law, then compare it to a government, or to what England calls, or has called, a constitution.

Making a law that forbids people to examine the principles, whether good or bad, behind that law or any other law would be tyranny, or what England calls arbitrary power.

If a law is bad, defying it is one thing. Pointing out its errors, discussing its flaws, and explaining why it should be repealed or replaced is quite another. I have always believed, and acted on the belief, that it is better to obey a bad law while making every possible argument for its repeal than to break it by force. Breaking a bad law might set a precedent that weakens good laws too, and encourages people to decide for themselves which laws to break.

The same reasoning applies to the principles and forms of government, and to what are called constitutions and their various parts.

Government should be set up for the benefit of nations, not to enrich or elevate particular people. Humanity pays to support it for that reason. By the same reasoning, everyone must be free to discuss flaws in any government's or constitution's principles and structure, just as they can discuss a law's flaws. Each person owes society a duty to point them out. Once a nation generally understands those flaws and how to fix them, it will reform its government or constitution, just as a government repeals or reforms a law. Government's job is limited to making and administering laws. The right to make or remake constitutions and governments belongs to the nation. A country therefore always has the right to investigate these matters. To prosecute people for doing so would violate the country's general rights. I will debate Mr. Burke on this ground whenever he likes. We should let the whole argument be heard instead of trying to silence it. He started the controversy and should not abandon it.

I do not believe monarchy and aristocracy will survive another seven years in any of Europe's enlightened countries. If there are better arguments for them than against them, they will survive; otherwise they will not. People can no longer be told not to think or read. Publications that simply examine the principles of government, ask people to reason and reflect, and show where different systems are good or bad have a right to appear. If they draw no attention, they are not worth prosecuting. If they do draw attention, prosecution will achieve nothing, because it cannot stop people from reading. It would punish the public rather than the author and would be the surest way to bring on a revolution sooner.

A jury of twelve men cannot decide questions about systems of government that concern an entire nation. There are no witnesses to question or facts to prove in such a case. Everything is in public view, and the public decides its merits. A court knows nothing more about it than everyone outside knows. Any twelve men would be as qualified as any other twelve; different juries would probably reach opposite verdicts, or a single jury might disagree so much that it could not reach one. Whether a nation approves a book or a plan is one question. Whether it will give such a jury the power to decide if the nation has the right to reform its government is another. I raise these questions so Mr. Burke can see that I have considered law as well as rights when writing about government. The only suitable jury in such cases would be a fairly elected convention representing the whole nation, because the whole nation is the relevant community. If Mr. Burke proposes that jury, I will give up any privileges I have as a citizen of another country and defender of its principles, and accept its decision, provided he does the same. I believe it would condemn his book and his principles instead of mine.

People acquire prejudices in favor of particular forms of government through education and habit, but those prejudices still have to face reason and reflection. In fact, prejudice of this sort has no substance. No one favors something while knowing it is wrong. A person supports it because they think it right, and when they see it is not, their prejudice disappears. We do not fully understand what prejudice is. Until people think for themselves, one could say all they have is prejudice, not opinion. Only a judgment based on reasoning and reflection deserves to be called an opinion. I make this point so that Mr. Burke will not rely too heavily on the country's customary prejudices.

I do not believe the people of England have ever been treated fairly or honestly. Parties and self-appointed leaders have deceived them. It is time for the nation to rise above such trifles. It is time to stop paying so little attention, which has long encouraged taxes to rise too high. It is time to give up the songs and toasts designed to make people accept servitude and stop thinking. On these matters, people only need to think: then they will neither act wrongly nor be led astray. Saying a people are unfit for freedom amounts to saying they choose poverty and would rather pay heavy taxes than be free of them. Even if that could be proved, it would also prove their rulers unfit to rule, since rulers come from the same nation.

Even if governments change throughout Europe, that can certainly happen without upheaval or revenge. Changes and revolutions are worthwhile only if they bring a great benefit to the nation. Once people see that benefit, those who oppose the change will be the ones in danger, as in America and France. With that thought I end my Preface.

THOMAS PAINE

London, Feb. 9, 1792