Author's Notes to Parts I and II, 2

19 What the French called the livre rouge, or red book, did not correspond exactly to England's Court Calendar; but it revealed plainly enough how much of the tax revenue was squandered.

20 England's advances in agriculture, useful arts, manufacturing, and commerce have come about despite the spirit of her government, which is to follow precedent. They owe their existence to the enterprise and industry of individuals and their many associations, for whom, to use a familiar expression, government supplies neither pillow nor bolster. No one planning or carrying out these endeavors concerned himself with the government, or with who was in office and who was out. All he could hope of government was that it would leave him alone. Three or four exceptionally foolish ministerial newspapers continually insult the spirit of national improvement by crediting a minister with it. They might just as truthfully credit a minister with this book.

21 The two houses that make up the English Parliament appear to be so thoroughly brought under one influence that, as a legislature, they have no disposition of their own. Whoever the minister may be, he touches them as if with an opium wand, and they sleep in obedience.

Yet if we compare the abilities of the two houses separately, the disparity makes clear the folly of entrusting power to a body whose judgment cannot be relied upon. Miserable as representation in England is, it is mature compared with the so-called House of Lords. So little regard is paid to this misnamed house that people scarcely ever inquire what it is doing. It also appears most subject to influence and farthest removed from the nation's general interest. In the debate over entering the Russian and Turkish war, the majority in the House of Peers in favor exceeded ninety, while the majority in the other house, with more than twice as many members, was sixty-three.

The proceedings on Mr. Fox's bill concerning juries' rights also deserve notice. Those called peers were not the people for whom the bill was intended: they already enjoy more privileges than it would give to others. They serve as their own jury, and if a member of that house were prosecuted for libel, he would not suffer punishment for a first offense even if convicted. No country should tolerate such inequality before the law. The French constitution says the law is the same for every individual, whether it protects or punishes. All are equal in its sight.

22 The state of English representation is too absurd to merit argument. Almost all the places that have representation are losing population, while those without it are growing. A general convention of the nation is needed to consider the entire form of government.

23 It is said that in the canton of Berne in Switzerland, the people had long kept a bear at public expense, and had been taught to believe they would all be ruined without one. Some years ago the bear then in residence became ill and died too suddenly for a replacement to be found immediately. During this interval without a bear, the people discovered that the corn still grew, the vintage flourished, the sun and moon still rose and set, and everything continued as before. Encouraged by these discoveries, they resolved to keep no more bears. "A bear," they said, "is a very voracious and expensive animal, and we had to pull out his claws for fear he would hurt the citizens." The tale of the bear of Berne appeared in some French newspapers when Louis XVI fled, and its application to monarchy could not be missed in France. The aristocracy of Berne, however, seem to have applied it to themselves; they have since forbidden the reading of French newspapers.

24 It is almost impossible to touch on a subject without recalling some corruption of government. Unfortunately, the comparison with "fortifications" brings to mind a circumstance directly relevant to the point just raised.

Among all the abuses committed or protected by governments, old or new, none is greater than settling a man and his heirs on the public purse to be maintained at public expense.

Humanity requires us to provide for the poor. But what right, moral or political, has any government to declare that the person called the Duke of Richmond must be supported by the public? Yet if common report is true, no beggar in London can buy his pitiful allowance of coal without contributing to the Duke of Richmond's civil list. Even if this impost yielded only a shilling a year, its unjust principle would remain the same. When it yields, as is said, no less than twenty thousand pounds annually, the abuse is too grave to leave standing. This is one consequence of monarchy and aristocracy.

I am moved by no personal animosity in presenting the case. Though I think it contemptible for anyone to live off the public, the fault begins with the government. It has grown so common that it matters little whether those involved sit with the ministry or the opposition: each can count on the other's protection.

25 Commerce is growing proportionately faster in America than in England. It is now at least one half greater than at any time before the revolution. Before the war began, the largest number of vessels cleared from Philadelphia's port was between eight and nine hundred. In 1788 the number exceeded twelve hundred. Since the population of Pennsylvania is estimated at one eighth of the United States, the total number of vessels must now be nearly ten thousand.

26 When I saw Mr. Pitt calculate the balance of trade in one of his parliamentary speeches, it seemed to me that he understood nothing of the nature or interests of commerce. No man has done it more wanton harm. During peacetime it has suffered the calamities of war: on three occasions within less than four years of peace, impressment has stripped ships of their crews and brought commerce to a standstill.

27 Rev. William Knowle, master of the grammar school of Thetford, in Norfolk.

28 Politics has been so consistently linked with self-interest that a world so often deceived has a right to distrust public figures. On my own account, however, I have no unease. When I first entered public life nearly seventeen years ago, I did not turn my attention to government out of self-interest; everything I have done since bears this out. I saw an opportunity to do some good, or so I believed, and followed exactly what my heart dictated. I read no books and did not study other people's opinions. I thought for myself. This is what happened:

While the old governments in America were suspended, both before and at the outbreak of hostilities, I was struck by the order and decorum with which affairs were conducted. I came to believe that government needed to do little more than society naturally did for itself, and that monarchy and aristocracy were frauds imposed upon humanity. On these principles I published the pamphlet Common Sense. Its success surpassed anything seen since printing was invented. I gave the copyright to every state in the Union, and demand reached no fewer than one hundred thousand copies. I continued to write on the subject in the same spirit under the title The Crisis, until the Revolution was fully established.

After the declaration of independence, Congress, without my knowledge, unanimously appointed me Secretary in the Foreign Department. I welcomed the appointment because it allowed me to observe the abilities of foreign courts and the way they conducted business. But when a disagreement arose between Congress and me over one of its commissioners then in Europe, Mr. Silas Deane, I resigned. At the same time I declined the financial offers of the French and Spanish ministers, M. Gerald and Don Juan Mirralles. By then I had gained America's ear and confidence so completely, and my independence had become so evident, that I enjoyed a scope for political writing perhaps greater than anyone had ever possessed in any country. More remarkably, I retained that standing undiminished through the end of the war, and still enjoy it today. Because my aim was not my own advancement, I set out determined, and fortunately disposed, to be swayed neither by praise nor blame, friendship nor slander, and not to be drawn from my purpose by personal quarrels. A man unable to do this is unfit for public life.

When the war ended, I went from Philadelphia to Borden-Town, on the east bank of the Delaware, where I have a small property. Congress was then at Prince-Town, fifteen miles away. General Washington had established his headquarters at Rocky Hill, near Congress, intending to resign his commission now that its purpose had been fulfilled and return to private life. During this business he wrote me the following letter:

"Rocky-Hill, Sept. 10, 1783.

"Since coming here I have learned that you are at Borden-Town. Whether you are there for retirement or economy I do not know. Whether for either, for both, or for any other reason, I should be exceedingly happy if you would come here and share my hospitality.

"Your presence may remind Congress of your past services to this country. If I can impress those services upon them, count freely on my best efforts, gladly offered by one who keenly appreciates the importance of your works and who takes great pleasure in signing himself, Your sincere friend,

G. Washington."

Toward the end of 1780, during the war, I conceived a plan to go to England and told General Greene, who was then in Philadelphia on his way south; General Washington was too far away to consult immediately. I strongly believed that, if I could enter England unrecognized and stay safe long enough to publish a work, I could open the country's eyes to the madness and stupidity of its government. The parties in Parliament, I saw, had gone as far as they could in opposing one another and could no longer influence each other. General Greene fully embraced my plan, but soon afterward, following the affair of Arnold and Andre, he changed his mind. Fearing greatly for my safety, he wrote urgently from Annapolis, Maryland, asking me to abandon it. Reluctantly, I did. Soon afterward I accompanied Colonel Lawrens, son of Mr. Lawrens, who was then held in the Tower, to France on business for Congress. We landed at L'orient. While I remained there and he went ahead, an event revived my old plan. An English packet sailing from Falmouth to New York, with government dispatches aboard, was brought into L'orient. The capture of a packet is nothing extraordinary, but it is scarcely credible that its dispatches should have been captured with it. They are always hung in a bag weighted with a cannonball beside the cabin window, ready to be sunk at a moment's notice. Yet this is precisely what happened: the dispatches came into my hands, and I read them. I was told that the capture had been accomplished by this stratagem: the English-speaking captain of the privateer "Madame" approached the packet, passed himself off as the captain of an English frigate, and invited the packet's captain aboard. Once he had come, the privateer captain sent some of his own men back to the packet and secured the mail. Whatever the circumstances of its capture, I can speak with certainty of the government dispatches. They were sent to Count Vergennes in Paris, and Colonel Lawrens and I carried the originals back to Congress when we returned to America.

19 The livre rouge, or red book, in France was not quite the same as England's Court Calendar. But it showed clearly enough how much tax money was wasted.

20 In England, improvements in farming, practical skills, manufacturing, and trade have happened despite the government's habit of following old precedents. They came from the initiative and hard work of individuals and their many associations. To put it in familiar terms, the government gave them neither a pillow nor a bolster. People planning or doing this work did not think about the government or who held office and who did not. All they hoped was that the government would leave them alone. Three or four very foolish newspapers that support the ministry keep insulting the spirit of national progress by crediting a minister for these improvements. They might as well credit a minister for this book.

21 The two houses of the English Parliament seem to be so thoroughly subject to the same influence that they have become one body. As a legislature, Parliament appears to have no independent will. Whichever minister holds office seems to touch it with a wand that puts it to sleep, and it obeys.

But consider the separate abilities of the two houses. The difference is so great that it shows how inconsistent it is to place power where there is no guarantee that it will be used with good judgment. Representation in England is in a miserable state. Even so, the House of Commons is mature compared with the so-called House of Lords. People think so little of the house bearing that misleading name that they rarely ask what it is doing. It also appears to be the most subject to outside influence and the furthest from the nation's general interest. When Parliament debated involvement in the Russian and Turkish war, the majority in favor in the House of Peers was more than ninety. In the other house, which had more than twice as many members, the majority was sixty-three.

The proceedings on Mr. Fox's bill about the rights of juries also deserve attention. The people called peers were not covered by the bill. They already had more privileges than it gave other people. They serve as their own jury. And if a member of their house were prosecuted for libel, he would face no punishment for a first offense even if convicted. Such inequality under the law should exist nowhere. The French constitution says that the law is the same for every person, whether it protects or punishes. Everyone is equal in its eyes.

22 Representation in England is in such an absurd state that there is hardly any point arguing about it. Almost all the areas with representation are losing population, while those without representation are growing. A general convention of the nation must consider the entire form of government.

23 People say that the canton of Berne in Switzerland had long kept a bear at public expense. The people had been taught to think that without a bear they would be ruined. Some years ago the bear fell ill and died too suddenly to be replaced right away. While there was no bear, people found that grain still grew, the grape harvest still flourished, the sun and moon still rose and set, and everything continued as before. Encouraged by this, they decided not to keep any more bears. They said, "A bear eats a great deal and costs a lot. We even had to remove his claws so he would not hurt the citizens." Some French newspapers told the story of Berne's bear when Louis XVI. fled. In France, nobody could miss that the bear stood for monarchy. It seems, though, that Berne's aristocracy thought the story was about them. Since then, they have banned the reading of French newspapers.

24 Almost any subject can remind us of corruption in government. Unfortunately, my comparison to "fortifications" brings to mind something directly relevant to the issue just discussed.

Governments, both ancient and modern, have committed or protected many abuses. One of the worst is making the public support a man and his descendants at public expense.

Humanity requires us to provide for poor people. But what moral or political right does a government have to decide that the person called the Duke of Richmond must be supported by the public? Yet, if common reports are true, even a beggar in London buying his meager portion of coal has to pay toward the Duke of Richmond's public allowance. The principle would be just as unjust if the total collected were only a shilling a year. But when the sum is said to be no less than twenty thousand pounds a year, the abuse is too serious to leave in place. It is one result of monarchy and aristocracy.

I do not raise this case because of any personal dislike. I do think it shameful for anyone to live at public expense, but the fault begins with the government. The practice has become so widespread that it makes no difference whether the people involved support the ministry or the opposition. They can count on each other to protect it.

25 Trade is growing faster in America, proportionally, than in England. It is now at least half again as large as it was at any time before the revolution. Before the war began, the greatest number of vessels to clear the port of Philadelphia was between eight and nine hundred. In 1788, more than twelve hundred cleared it. Pennsylvania is estimated to contain one eighth of the United States population, so the total number of vessels must now be nearly ten thousand.

26 When I saw how Mr. Pitt calculated the balance of trade in one of his speeches to Parliament, I thought he understood nothing about how trade works or what it needs. No one has damaged it more recklessly than he has. Even in peacetime, it has suffered the hardships of war. In less than four years of peace, trade has been stopped three times and ships deprived of their crews through forced enlistment.

27 Rev. William Knowle, master of the grammar school of Thetford, in Norfolk.

28 Politics and self-interest have been linked so often that people have been deceived enough to be justified in distrusting public figures. But I have no worries about that charge as it concerns me. When I first entered public life nearly seventeen years ago, self-interest did not lead me to think about government. Everything I have done since confirms that. I saw a chance to do some good and followed what my heart told me. I did not read books or study other people's opinions. I thought for myself. Here is what happened:

While the old governments in America were suspended, both before and when fighting began, I was struck by how orderly everything remained. It occurred to me that only a little more than what society did naturally was needed from government, and that monarchy and aristocracy were frauds imposed on humanity. These principles led me to publish the pamphlet Common Sense. Its success exceeded anything seen since printing was invented. I gave its copyright to every state in the Union, and demand reached at least one hundred thousand copies. I continued writing on the subject under the title The Crisis until the Revolution was firmly established.

After independence was declared, Congress unanimously appointed me Secretary in the Foreign Department without my knowledge. I welcomed the appointment. It let me observe the abilities of foreign courts and how they worked. But Congress and I disagreed over one of its commissioners then in Europe, Mr. Silas Deane. I resigned my position and at the same time refused offers of money from the French and Spanish ministers, M. Gerald and Don Juan Mirralles. By then I had gained America's attention and trust, and my independence was clear. That gave me more freedom to write on politics than perhaps any man had ever had in any country. More remarkably, I kept that freedom intact through the end of the war and still enjoy it today. My goal was not personal gain. From the start, I resolved, and happily had the temperament, not to be swayed by praise or criticism, friendship or slander. Nor would I let a personal quarrel distract me from my purpose. Anyone who cannot do that is not fit for public life.

When the war ended, I left Philadelphia for Borden-Town on the eastern bank of the Delaware, where I have a small place. Congress was then at Prince-Town, fifteen miles away. General Washington had established his headquarters at Rocky Hill, near Congress. He intended to resign his commission now that the reason he had accepted it was fulfilled and return to private life. While dealing with this, he wrote me the following letter:

"Rocky-Hill, Sept. 10, 1783.

"I have heard since coming here that you are at Borden-Town. I do not know if you are there for privacy or to save money. Whatever the reason, if you will come and stay with me here, I will be very happy to see you.

"Your presence might remind Congress of what you have done for this country. If I can influence them, please feel free to call on me to do everything I can. I will gladly do so, because I deeply value the importance of your writings and take great pleasure in signing myself, Your sincere friend,

G. Washington."

Toward the end of 1780, during the war, I planned to go to England. I told General Greene, who was in Philadelphia on his way south. General Washington was too far away for me to contact him immediately. I strongly believed that if I could enter England unnoticed and stay safe long enough to publish something, I could open people's eyes to the foolishness and madness of their government. The parties in Parliament had already fought each other as hard as they could, with no hope of changing one another's minds. General Greene fully understood my plan. But soon afterward the affair of Arnold and Andre occurred, and he changed his mind. Concerned for my safety, he wrote urgently from Annapolis, Maryland, asking me to abandon the plan. Reluctantly, I did. Soon afterward I accompanied Colonel Lawrens, the son of Mr. Lawrens, who was then held in the Tower, to France on congressional business. We landed at L'orient. While I stayed there and he went ahead, something happened that revived my old plan. An English packet boat traveling from Falmouth to New York was brought into L'orient with government dispatches still aboard. It is not unusual for a packet boat to be captured, but hardly anyone will believe that its dispatches were captured too. They are always kept in a bag with a cannonball, hanging by the cabin window and ready to be sunk instantly. But this is exactly what happened: the dispatches came into my hands, and I read them. I was told that the capture worked through this trick. The captain of the "Madame," a privateer, spoke English. When he reached the packet boat, he pretended to be the captain of an English frigate and invited the packet's captain aboard. Once the captain came over, the privateer sent some of his own crew to the packet and seized the mail. Whatever the precise details of the capture, I can speak with certainty about the government dispatches. They were sent to Count Vergennes in Paris. When Colonel Lawrens and I returned to America, we took the originals to Congress.