ing at the south window of the
first-story room of that house. The sash was raised, and a
small table or stand was placed before him with an open book
upon it which he appeared to be reading. He had his
spectacles on, his left elbow rested upon the table or
stand, and his chin rested between thumb and fingers of his
hand; his right hand lay upon his book, and a decanter next
his book or beyond it. I never saw Thomas Paine at any other
place or in any other position."

In this house Paine was at one time desperately ill. It was said that
the collapse was partly due to his too sudden abstinence from
stimulants. He was an old man then, and had lived with every ounce of
energy that was in him. The stimulants were resumed, and he grew
somewhat better. This naturally brings us to the question of Paine as
an excessive drinker. Of course people said he was; but then people
said he was a great many things that he was not. When his enemies grew
tired of the monotony of crying "Tom Paine, the infidel," they cried
"Tom Paine, the drunkard" instead.

Which recalls a story which is an old one but too applicable not to be
quoted here.

It is said that some official--and officious--mischief-maker once came
to Lincoln with the report that one of the greatest and most
distinguished of Federal generals was in the habit of drinking too
much.

"Indeed?" said Lincoln drily. "If that is true, I should like to send
a barrel of the same spirits to some of my other generals."

If Thomas Paine did drink to excess--which seems extremely
doubtful--it's a frightful and solemn argument against Prohibition!

Mrs. Ryder's house where Paine lived was close to that occupied by his
faithful friend Mme. de Bonneville and her two sons. Paine was devoted
to the boys, indeed the younger was named for him, and their visits
were among his greatest pleasures. And, by the bye, while we are on
the subject, the most scurrilous and unjust report ever circulated
against this great man was that which cast a reflection upon the
honourable and kindly relations existing between him and Mme. de
Bonneville.

In the first place, Paine had never been a man of light or loose
morals, and it is scarcely likely that he should have changed his
entire character at the age of three score and ten. Mme. de
Bonneville's husband, Nicholas, was a close friend of Paine in Paris,
and had originally intended to come to America with Paine an