Was he where he got at the English or American newspapers, he hastened to over-run them all, like those who read to make extracts for their paper. His first glance was for the funds, which, in spite of jobbing and the tricks of government, he always looked on as the sure thermometer of public affairs. Parliamentary Debates, the Bills, concealing a true or sham opposition of such or such orators, the secret pay and violent theatrical declamation, or the revelations of public or private meetings at the taverns; these interested him so much that he longed for an ear and a heart to pour forth all his soul. When he added that he knew the Republican or the hypocrite, he would affirm, beforehand, that such or such a bill, such or such a measure, would take place; and very seldom, in such a case, the cunning politic or the clear-sighted observer was mistaken in his assertions; for they were not for him mere conjectures. He spoke of a future event as of a thing past and consummated. In a country where the slightest steps are expanded to open day, where the feeblest connexions are known from their beginning, and with all the views of ambition, of interest or rivalship, it is almost impossible to escape the eye of such an observer as Thomas Paine, whom no private interest could blind or bewitch, as was said by the clear-sighted Michael Montaigne. His writings are generally perspicuous and full of light, and often they discover the sardonic and sharp smile of Voltaire. One may see that he wishes to wound to the quick; and that he hugs himself in his success. But Voltaire all at once overruns an immense space and resumes his vehement and dramatic step: Paine stops you, and points to the place where you ought to smile with him at the ingenious traits; a gift to envy and stupidity. Thomas Paine did not like to be questioned. He used to say, that he thought nothing more impertinent, than to say to any body: "What do you think of that?" On his arrival at New York, he went to see General Gates. After the usual words of salutation, the General said: "I have always had it in mind, if I ever saw you again, to ask you whether you were married, as people have said." Paine not answering, the General went on: "Tell me how it is." "I never," said Paine, "answer impertinent questions." Seemingly insensible and hard to himself, he was not so to the just wailings of the unhappy. Without any vehement expression of his sorrow, you might see him calling up all his powers, walking silently, thinking of the best means of consoling the unfortunate applicant; and never did they go from him without some rays of hope. And as his will was firm and settled, his efforts were always successful. The man hardened in vice and in courts [of law], yields more easily than one imagines to the manly entreaties of a disinterested benefactor. * At this point are the words: "Barlow's letter [i. e. to Cheetham] we agreed to suppress."