The American Crisis | Page 9

you to barbarous destruction, and men must be either rogues or fools that will not see it. I
dwell not upon the vapors of imagination; I bring reason to your ears, and, in language as
plain as A, B, C, hold up truth to your eyes.
I thank God, that I fear not. I see no real cause for fear. I know our situation well, and can
see the way out of it. While our army was collected, Howe dared not risk a battle; and it
is no credit to him that he decamped from the White Plains, and waited a mean
opportunity to ravage the defenceless Jerseys; but it is great credit to us, that, with a
handful of men, we sustained an orderly retreat for near an hundred miles, brought off
our ammunition, all our field pieces, the greatest part of our stores, and had four rivers to
pass. None can say that our retreat was precipitate, for we were near three weeks in
performing it, that the country might have time to come in. Twice we marched back to
meet the enemy, and remained out till dark. The sign of fear was not seen in our camp,
and had not some of the cowardly and disaffected inhabitants spread false alarms through
the country, the Jerseys had never been ravaged. Once more we are again collected and
collecting; our new army at both ends of the continent is recruiting fast, and we shall be
able to open the next campaign with sixty thousand men, well armed and clothed. This is
our situation, and who will may know it. By perseverance and fortitude we have the
prospect of a glorious issue; by cowardice and submission, the sad choice of a variety of
evils- a ravaged country- a depopulated city- habitations without safety, and slavery
without hope- our homes turned into barracks and bawdy-houses for Hessians, and a
future race to provide for, whose fathers we shall doubt of. Look on this picture and weep
over it! and if there yet remains one thoughtless wretch who believes it not, let him suffer
it unlamented.

COMMON SENSE.
December 23, 1776.
The Crisis
II.
TO LORD HOWE.
"What's in the name of lord, that I should fear To bring my grievance to the public ear?"
CHURCHILL.
UNIVERSAL empire is the prerogative of a writer. His concerns are with all mankind,
and though he cannot command their obedience, he can assign them their duty. The
Republic of Letters is more ancient than monarchy, and of far higher character in the
world than the vassal court of Britain; he that rebels against reason is a real rebel, but he
that in defence of reason rebels against tyranny has a better title to "Defender of the
Faith," than George the Third.
As a military man your lordship may hold out the sword of war, and call it the "ultima
ratio regum": the last reason of kings; we in return can show you the sword of justice, and
call it "the best scourge of tyrants." The first of these two may threaten, or even frighten
for a while, and cast a sickly languor over an insulted people, but reason will soon
recover the debauch, and restore them again to tranquil fortitude. Your lordship, I find,
has now commenced author, and published a proclamation; I have published a Crisis. As
they stand, they are the antipodes of each other; both cannot rise at once, and one of them
must descend; and so quick is the revolution of things, that your lordship's performance, I
see, has already fallen many degrees from its first place, and is now just visible on the
edge of the political horizon.
It is surprising to what a pitch of infatuation, blind folly and obstinacy will carry mankind,
and your lordship's drowsy proclamation is a proof that it does not even quit them in their
sleep. Perhaps you thought America too was taking a nap, and therefore chose, like Satan
to Eve, to whisper the delusion softly, lest you should awaken her. This continent, sir, is
too extensive to sleep all at once, and too watchful, even in its slumbers, not to startle at
the unhallowed foot of an invader. You may issue your proclamations, and welcome, for
we have learned to "reverence ourselves," and scorn the insulting ruffian that employs
you. America, for your deceased brother's sake, would gladly have shown you respect
and it is a new aggravation to her feelings, that Howe should be forgetful, and raise his
sword against those, who at their own charge raised a monument to his brother. But your
master has commanded, and you have not enough of nature left to refuse. Surely there
must be something strangely degenerating in the love of monarchy, that can so