* "The writer of 'Common Sense' and 'The Forester' is the same person. His name is Paine, a gentleman about two years ago from England,--a man who, General Lee says, has genius in his eyes."--John Adams to his wife. The publication of "Common Sense" had been followed by a number of applauding pamphlets, some of them crude or extravagant, from Bell's press. "Cato" was anxious to affiliate these "additional doses" on the author of "Common Sense," who replies: "Perhaps there never was a pamphlet, since the use of letters were known, about which so little pains were taken, and of which so great a number went off in so short a time. I am certain that I am within compass when I say one hundred and twenty thousand. The book was turned upon the world like an orphan to shift for itself; no plan was formed to support it, neither hath the author ever published a syllable on the subject from that time till after the appearance of Cato's fourth letter." This letter of "The Forester" is dated April 8th (printed on the 10th). "Common Sense," published January 10th, had, therefore, in less than three months, gained this sale. In the end probably half a million copies were sold. In reply to "Cato's" sneer about "interested writers," Paine did not announce the fact that he had donated the copyright to the States for the cause of independence. It was sold at two shillings, and the author thus gave away a fortune in that pamphlet alone. It never brought him a penny; he must even have paid for copies himself, as the publisher figured up a debt against him, on account of "Common Sense," for £29 12s. 1d. Notwithstanding this experience and the popularity he had acquired, Paine also gave to the States the copyright of his _Crisis_ (thirteen numbers), was taunted by Tories as a "garreteer," ate his crust contentedly, peace finding him a penniless patriot, who might easily have had fifty thousand pounds in his pocket. The controversy between "Cato" and "The Forester" was the most important that preceded the Declaration of Independence. The president of the University represented "Toryism" in distress. The "massacre at Lexington" disabled him from justifying the government, which, however, he was not prepared to denounce. He was compelled to assume the tone of an American, while at the same time addressing his appeal "To the People of Pennsylvania," trying to detach its non-resident Quakers and its mercantile interest from sympathy with the general cause. Having a bad case, in view of Lexington, he naturally resorted to abuse of the plaintiff's attorney. He soon found that when it came to Quaker sentiment and dialect, his unknown antagonist was at home.