EIGHTY-THREE years ago Thomas Paine ceased to defend himself. The
moment he became dumb all his enemies found a tongue. He was attacked
on every hand. The Tories of England had been waiting for their
revenge. The believers in kings, in hereditary government, the
nobility of every land, execrated his memory. Their greatest enemy
was dead. The believers in human slavery, and all who clamored for
the rights of the States as against the sovereignty of a Nation,
joined in the chorus of denunciation. In addition to this, the
believers in the inspiration of the Scriptures, the occupants of
orthodox pulpits, the professors in Christian colleges, and the
religious historians, were his sworn and implacable foes.
This man had gratified no ambition at the expense of his fellow
men; he had desolated no country with the flame and sword of war; he
had not wrung millions from the poor and unfortunate; he had betrayed
no trust, and yet he was almost universally despised. He gave his
life for the benefit of mankind. Day and night for many, many weary
years, he labored for the good of others, and gave himself body and
soul to the great cause of human liberty. And yet he won the hatred
of the people for whose benefit, for whose emancipation, for whose
civilization, for whose exaltation he gave his life.
Against him every slander that malignity could coin and hypocrisy
pass was gladly and joyously taken as genuine, and every truth with
regard to his career was believed to be counterfeit. He was attacked
by thousands where he was defended by one, and the one who defended
him was instantly attacked, silenced, or destroyed.
At last his life has been written by Moncure D. Conway, and the
real history of Thomas Paine, of what he attempted and accomplished,
of what he taught and suffered, has been intelligently, truthfully
and candidly given to the world. Henceforth the slanderer will be
without excuse.
He who reads Mr. Conway's pages will find that Thomas Paine was
more than a patriot — that he was a philanthropist — a lover not only
of his country, but of all mankind. He will find that his sympathies
were with those who suffered, without regard to religion or race,
country or complexion. He will find that this great man did not
hesitate to attack the governing class of his native land — to commit
what was called treason against the king, that he might do battle for
the rights of men; that in spite of the prejudices of birth, he took
the side of the American Colonies; that he gladly attacked the
political abuses and absurdities that had been fostered
by altars and thrones for many centuries; that
he was for the people against nobles and kings, and that he put his
life in pawn for the good of others.
In the winter of 1774 Thomas Paine came to America. After a time
he was employed as one of the writers on "The Pennsylvania
Magazine."
Let us see what he did, calculated to excite the hatred of his
fellow men.
The first article he ever wrote in America, and the first ever
published by him anywhere, appeared in that magazine on the 8th of
March, 1775. It was an attack on American slavery — a plea for the
rights of the negro. In that article will be found substantially all
the arguments that can be urged against that most infamous of all
institutions. Every line is full of humanity, pity, tenderness, and
love of justice. Five days after this article appeared the American
Anti-Slavery Society was formed. Certainly this should not excite our
hatred. To-day the civilized world agrees with the essay written by
Thomas Paine in 1775.
At that time great interests were against, him. The owners of
slaves became his enemies, and the pulpits, supported by slave labor,
denounced this abolitionist.
The next article published by Thomas Paine, in the same magazine,
and for the next month, was an attack on the practice of dueling,
showing that it was barbarous, that it did not even tend to settle
the right or wrong of a dispute, that it could not be defended on any
just grounds, and that its influence was degrading and cruel. The
civilized world now agrees with the opinions of Thomas Paine upon
that barbarous practice.
In May, 1775, appeared in the same magazine another article
written by Thomas Paine, a Protest Against Cruelty to Animals. He
began the work that was so successfully and gloriously carried out by
Henry Bergh, one of the noblest, one of the grandest, men that this
continent has produced.
The good people of this world agree with Thomas Paine.
In August of the same year he wrote a plea for the Rights of
Woman, the first ever published in the New World. Certainly he should
not be hated for that.
He was the first to suggest a union of the Colonies. Before the
Declaration of Independence was issued, Paine had written of and
about the Free and Independent States of America. He had also spoken
of the United Colonies as the "Glorious Union," and he was the first
to write these words: "The United States of America."
In May, 1775, Washington said: "If you ever hear of me joining in
any such measure (as separation from Great Britain) you have my leave
to set me down for everything wicked." He had also said: "It is not
the wish or interest of the government (meaning Massachusetts), or of
any other upon this continent, separately or
collectively, to set up for independence." And in the same year
Benjamin Franklin assured Chatham that no one in America was in favor
of separation. As a matter of fact, the people of the Colonies wanted
a redress of their grievances — they were not dreaming of separation,
of independence.
In 1775 Paine wrote the pamphlet known as "Common Sense". This was
published on the 10th of January, 1776. It was the first appeal for
independence, the first cry for national life, for absolute
separation. No pamphlet, no book, ever kindled such a sudden
conflagration, — a purifying flame, in which the prejudices and fears
of millions were consumed. To read it now, after the lapse of more
than a hundred years, hastens the blood. It is but the meagre truth
to say that Thomas Paine did more for the cause of separation, to sow
the seeds of independence, than any other man of his time. Certainly
we should not despise him for this. The Declaration of Independence
followed, and in that declaration will be found not only the
thoughts, but some of the expressions, of Thomas Paine.
During the war, and in the very darkest hours, Paine wrote what is
called "The Crisis", a series of pamphlets giving from time to time
his opinion of events, and his prophecies. These marvelous
publications produced an effect nearly as great as the pamphlet
"Common Sense." These strophes, written by the bivouac fires, had in
them the soul of battle.
In all he wrote, Paine was direct and natural. He touched the very
heart of the subject. He was not awed by names or titles, by place or
power. He never lost his regard for truth, for principle — never
wavered in his allegiance to reason, to what he believed to be right.
His arguments were so lucid, so unanswerable, his comparisons and
analogies so apt, so unexpected, that they excited the passionate
admiration of friends and the unquenchable hatred of enemies. So
great were these appeals to patriotism, to the love of liberty, the
pride of independence, the glory of success, that it was said by some
of the best and greatest of that time that the American cause owed as
much to the pen of Paine as to the sword of Washington.
On the 2d day of November, 1779, there was introduced into the
Assembly of Pennsylvania an act for the abolition of slavery. The
preamble was written by Thomas Paine. To him belongs the honor and
glory of having written the first Proclamation of Emancipation in
America — Paine the first, Lincoln the last.
Paine, of all others, succeeded in getting aid for the struggling
colonies from France. "According to Lamartine, the king, Louis XVI.,
loaded Paine with favors, and a gift of six millions was confided
into the hands of Franklin and Paine. On the 25th of August, 1781,
Paine reached Boston bringing 2,500,000 Livers in silver, and in
convoy a ship laden with clothing and military stores."
"In November, 1779, Paine was elected Clerk to the General
Assembly of Pennsylvania. In 1780, the Assembly received a letter
from General Washington in the field, saying
that he feared the distresses in the army would lead to mutiny in the
ranks. This letter was read by Paine to the Assembly. He immediately
wrote to Blair McClenaghan, a Philadelphia merchant, explaining the
urgency, and inclosing $500, the amount of salary due him as Clerk,
as his contribution towards a relief fund. The merchant called a
meeting the next day, and read Paine's letter. A subscription list
was immediately circulated, and in a short time about $1,500,000 was
raised. With this capital the Pennsylvania Bank — afterwards the Bank
of North America — was established for the relief of the army."
In 1783 "Paine wrote a memorial to Chancellor Livingston,
Secretary of Foreign Affairs, Robert Morris, Minister of Finance, and
his assistant, urging the necessity of adding a Continental
Legislature to Congress, to be elected by the several States. Robert
Morris invited the Chancellor and a number of eminent men to meet
Paine at dinner, where his plea for a stronger Union was discussed
and approved. This was probably the earliest of a series of
consultations preliminary to the Constitutional Convention."
"On the 19th of April, 1783, it being the eighth anniversary of
the Battle of Lexington, Paine printed a little pamphlet entitled
'Thoughts on Peace and the Probable Advantages Thereof.'" In this
pamphlet he pleads for "a supreme Nationality absorbing all cherished
sovereignties." Mr. Conway calls this pamphlet Paine's "Farewell
Address," and gives the following extract:
"It was the cause of America that made me an
author. The force with which it struck my mind, and the dangerous
condition in which the country was in, by courting an impossible and
an unnatural reconciliation with those who were determined to reduce
her, instead of striking out into the only line that could save
her, — a Declaration of Independence, — made it impossible for me,
feeling as I did, to be silent; and if, in the course of more than
seven years, I have rendered her any service, I have likewise added
something to the reputation of literature, by freely and
disinterestedly employing it in the great cause of mankind. . . . But
as the scenes of war are closed, and every man preparing for home and
happier times, I therefore take leave of the subject. I have most
sincerely followed it from beginning to end, and through all its
turns and windings; and whatever country I may hereafter be in, I
shall always feel an honest pride at the part I have taken and acted,
and a gratitude to nature and providence for putting it in my power
to be of some use to mankind."
Paine had made some enemies, first, by attacking African slavery,
and, second, by insisting upon the sovereignty of the Nation.
During the Revolution our forefathers, in order to justify making
war on Great Britain, were compelled to take the ground that all men
are entitled to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. In no
other way could they justify their action. After the war, the meaner
instincts began to take possession of the mind, and those who had
fought for their own liberty were perfectly willing to enslave
others. We must also remember that the Revolution was begun and
carried on by a noble minority — that the majority were really in
favor of Great Britain and did what they dared to prevent the success
of the American cause. The minority, however, had control
of affairs. They were active, energetic,
enthusiastic, and courageous, and the majority were overawed, shamed,
and suppressed. But when peace came, the majority asserted themselves
and the interests of trade and commerce were consulted. Enthusiasm
slowly died, and patriotism was mingled with the selfishness of
traffic.
But, after all, the enemies of Paine were few, the friends were
many. He had the respect and admiration of the greatest and the best,
and was enjoying the fruits of his labor.
The Revolution was ended, the colonies were free. They had been
united, they formed a Nation, and the United States of America had a
place on the map of the world.
Paine was not a politician. He had not labored for seven years to
get an office. His services were no longer needed in America. He
concluded to educate the English people, to inform them of their
rights, to expose the pretenses, follies and fallacies, the crimes
and cruelties of nobles, kings, and parliaments. In the brain and
heart of this man were the dream and hope of the universal republic.
He had confidence in the people. He hated tyranny and war, despised
the senseless pomp and vain show of crowned robbers, laughed at
titles, and the "honorable" badges worn by the obsequious and
servile, by fawners and followers; loved liberty with all his heart,
and bravely fought against those who could give the rewards of place
and gold, and for those who could pay only with thanks.
Hoping to hasten the day of freedom, he wrote "The Rights of Man
" — a book that laid the foundation for all the real liberty that the
English now enjoy — a book that made known to Englishmen the
Declaration of Nature, and convinced millions that all are children
of the same mother, entitled to share equally in her gifts. Every
Englishman who has outgrown the ideas of l688 should remember Paine
with love and reverence. Every Englishman who has sought to destroy
abuses, to lessen or limit the prerogatives of the crown, to extend
the suffrage, to do away with "rotten boroughs," to take taxes from
knowledge, to increase and protect the freedom of speech and the
press, to do away with bribes under the name of pensions, and to make
England a government of principles rather than of persons, has been
compelled to adopt the creed and use the arguments of Thomas Paine.
In England every step towards freedom has been a triumph of Paine
over Burke and Pitt. No man ever rendered a greater service to his
native land.
The book called the "Rights of Man" was the greatest contribution
that literature had given to liberty. It rests on the bed rock. No
attention is paid to precedents except to show that they are wrong.
Paine was not misled by the proverbs that wolves had written for
sheep. He had the intelligence to examine for himself, and the
courage to publish his conclusions. As soon as the "Rights of Man"
was published the government was alarmed. Every effort was made to
suppress it. The author was indicted; those who published, and those
who sold, were arrested and imprisoned. But
the new gospel had been preached — a great man had shed light — a new
force had been born, and it was beyond the power of nobles and kings
to undo what the author-hero had done.
To avoid arrest and probable death, Paine left England. He had
sown with brave hand the seeds of thought, and he knew that he had
lighted a fire that nothing could extinguish until England should be
free.
The fame of Thomas Paine had reached France in many ways
— principally through Lafayette. His services in America were well
known. The pamphlet "Common Sense" had been published in French, and
its effect had been immense. "The Rights of Man" that had created,
and was then creating, such a stir in England, was also known to the
French. The lovers of liberty everywhere were the friends and
admirers of Thomas Paine. In America, England, Scotland, Ireland, and
France he was known as the defender of popular rights. He had
preached a new gospel. He had given a new Magna Charta to the
people.
So popular was Paine in France that he was elected by three
constituencies to the National Convention. He chose to represent
Calais. From the moment he entered French territory he was received
with almost royal honors. He at once stood with the foremost, and was
welcomed by all enlightened patriots. As in America, so in France, he
knew no idleness — he was an organizer and worker. The first thing he
did was to found the first Republican Society, and the next to write
its Manifesto, in which the ground was taken that France did not need
a king; that the people should govern themselves. In this Manifesto
was this argument:
"What kind of office must that be in a government
which requires neither experience nor ability to execute; that may be
abandoned to the desperate chance of birth; that may be filled with
an idiot, a madman, a tyrant with equal effect as with the good, the
virtuous, the wise? An office of this nature is a mere nonentity; it
is a place of show, not of use."
He said:
"I am not the personal enemy of kings. Quite the
contrary. No man wishes more heartily than myself to see them all in
the happy and honorable state of private individuals; but I am the
avowed, open and intrepid enemy of what is called monarchy; and I am
such by principles which nothing can either alter or corrupt, by my
attachment to humanity, by the anxiety which I feel within myself for
the dignity and honor of the human race."
One of the grandest things done by Thomas Paine was his effort to
save the life of Louis XVI. The Convention was in favor of death.
Paine was a foreigner. His career had caused some jealousies. He knew
the danger he was in — that the tiger was already crouching for a
spring — but he was true to his principles. He was opposed to the
death penalty. He remembered that Louis XVI. had been the friend of
America, and he very cheerfully risked his life, not only for the
good of France, not only to save the king, but to pay a debt of
gratitude. He asked the Convention to exile the
king to the United States. He asked this as a member of the
Convention and as a citizen of the United States. As an American he
felt grateful not only to the king, but to every Frenchman. He, the
adversary of all kings, asked the Convention to remember that kings
were men, and subject to human frailties. He took still another step,
and said: "As France has been the first of European nations to
abolish royalty, let us also be the first to abolish the punishment
of death."
Even after the death of Louis had been voted, Paine made another
appeal. With a courage born of the highest possible sense of duty he
said:
"France has but one ally — the United States of America. That is
the only Nation that can furnish France with naval provisions, for
the kingdoms of Northern Europe are, or soon will be, at war with
her. It happens that the person now under discussion is regarded in
America as a deliverer of their country. I can assure you that his
execution will there spread universal sorrow, and it is in your power
not thus to wound the feelings of your ally. Could I speak the French
language I would descend to your bar, and in their name become your
petitioner to respite the execution of your sentence on Louis." Ah,
citizens, give not the tyrant of England the triumph of seeing the
man perish on the scaffold who helped my dear brothers of America to
break his chains."
This was worthy of the man who had said: " Where Liberty is
not, there is my country."
Paine was second on the committee to prepare the draft of a
Constitution for France to be submitted to the Convention. He was the
real author, not only of the draft of the Constitution, but of the
Declaration of Rights.
In France, as in America, he took the lead. His first thoughts
seemed to be first principles. He was clear because he was profound.
People without ideas experience great difficulty in finding words to
express them.
From the moment that Paine cast his vote in favor of mercy — in
favor of life — the shadow of the guillotine was upon him. He knew
that when he voted for the king's life, he voted for his own death.
Paine remembered that the king had been the friend of America, and to
him ingratitude seemed the worst of crimes. He worked to destroy the
monarch, not the man; the king, not the friend. He discharged his
duty and accepted death. This was the heroism of goodness — the
sublimity of devotion.
Believing that his life was near its close, he made up his mind to
give to the world his thoughts concerning "revealed religion." This
he had for some time intended to do, but other matters had claimed
his attention. Feeling that there was no time to be lost, he wrote
the first part of "The Age of Reason", and gave the manuscript to
Joel Barlow. Six hours after, he was arrested. The second part was
written in prison while he was waiting for death.
Paine clearly saw that men could not be really free, or defend the
freedom they had, unless they were free to think and speak. He knew
that the Church was the enemy of liberty, that the altar and throne
were in partnership, that they helped each other and divided the
spoils.
He felt that, being a man, he had the right to examine the creeds
and the Scriptures for himself, and that, being an honest man, it was
his duty and his privilege to tell his fellow men the conclusions at
which he arrived.
He found that the creeds of all orthodox churches were absurd and
cruel, and that the Bible was no better. Of course he found that
there were some good things in the creeds and in the Bible. These he
defended, but the infamous, the inhuman, he attacked.
In matters of religion he pursued the same course that he had in
things political. He depended upon experience, and above all on
reason. He refused to extinguish the light in his own soul. He was
true to himself, and gave to others his honest thoughts. He did not
seek wealth, or place, or fame. He sought the truth.
He had felt it to be his duty to attack the institution of slavery
in-America, to raise his voice against duelling, to plead for the
rights of woman, to excite pity for the sufferings of domestic
animals, the speechless friends of man; to plead the cause of
separation, of independence, of American nationality, to attack the
abuses and crimes of monarchs, to do what he could to give freedom to
the world.
He thought it his duty to take another step. Kings asserted that
they derived their power, their right to govern, from God. To this
assertion Paine replied with the "Rights of Man." Priests pretended
that they were the authorized agents of God. Paine replied with the
"Age of Reason."
This book is still a power, and will be as long as the absurdities
and cruelties of the creeds and the Bible have defenders. The "Age of
Reason" affected the priests just as the "Rights of Man" affected
nobles and kings. The kings answered the arguments of Paine with
laws, the priests with lies. Kings appealed to force, priests to
fraud. Mr. Conway has written in regard to the "Age of Reason" the
most impressive and the most interesting chapter in his book. Paine
contended for the rights of the individual, for the jurisdiction of
the soul. Above all religions he placed Reason, above all kings, Men,
and above all men, Law.
The first part of the "Age of Reason" was written in the shadow of
a prison, the second part in the gloom of death. From that shadow,
from that gloom, came a flood of light. This testament, by which the
wealth of a marvellous brain, the love of a great and heroic heart
were given to the world, was written in the presence of the scaffold,
when the writer believed he was giving his last message to his fellow
men.
The "Age of Reason" was his crime.
Franklin, Jefferson, Sumner and Lincoln, the four greatest
statesmen that America has produced, were believers in the creed of
Thomas Paine.
The Universalists and Unitarians have found their best weapons,
their best arguments, in the "Age of Reason."
Slowly, but surely, the churches are adopting not only the
arguments, but the opinions, of the great Reformer. Theodore Parker
attacked the Old Testament and Calvinistic theology with the same
weapons and with a bitterness excelled by no man who has expressed
his thoughts in our language.
Paine was a century in advance of his time. If he were living now
his sympathy would be with Savage, Shadwick, Professor Briggs and the
"advanced theologians." He, too, would talk about the "higher
criticism" and the latest definition of "inspiration." These advanced
thinkers substantially are repeating the "Age of Reason." They still
wear the old uniform — clinging to the toggery of theology — but inside
of their religious rags they agree with Thomas Paine.
Not one argument that Paine urged against the inspiration of the
Bible, against the truth of miracles, against the barbarities and
infamies of the Old Testament, against the pretensions of priests and
the claims of kings, has ever been answered.
His arguments in favor of the existence of what he was pleased to
call the God of Nature were as weak as those of all theists have
been. But in all the affairs of this world, his clearness of vision,
lucidity of expression, cogency of argument, aptness of comparison,
power of statement and comprehension of the subject in hand, with all
its bearings and consequences, have rarely, if ever, been
excelled.
He had no reverence for mistakes because they were old. He did not
admire the castles of Feudalism even when they were covered with ivy.
He not only said that the Bible was not inspired, but he demonstrated
that it could not all be true. This was "brutal." He presented
arguments so strong, so clear, so convincing, that they could not be
answered. This was "vulgar."
He stood for liberty against kings, for humanity against creeds
and gods. This was "cowardly and low. " He gave his life to free and
civilize his fellow men. This was "infamous."
Paine was arrested and imprisoned in December, 1793. He was, to
say the least, neglected by Governor Morris and Washington. He was
released through the efforts of James Monroe, in November, 1794. He
was called back to the Convention, but too late to be of use. As most
of the actors had suffered death, the tragedy was about
over and the curtain was falling. Paine
remained in Paris until the "reign of terror" was ended and that of
the Corsican tyrant had commenced.
Paine came back to America hoping to spend the remainder of his
life surrounded by those for whose happiness and freedom he had
labored so many years. He expected to be rewarded with the love and
reverence of the American people.
In 1794 James Monroe had written to Paine these words:
"It is unnecessary for me to tell you how much all
your countrymen, I expect of the great mass of the people. are
interested in your welfare. They have not forgot the history of their
own Revolution and the difficult scenes through which they passed;
nor do they review its several stages without reviving in their
bosoms a due sensibility of the merits of those who served them in
that great and arduous conflict. The crime of ingratitude has not yet
stained, and I hope never will stain, our national character. You are
considered by them as not only having rendered important services in
our own Revolution, but as being on a more extensive scale the friend
of human rights and a distinguished and able advocate of public
liberty. To the welfare of Thomas Paine we are not and cannot be
indifferent."
In the same year Mr. Monroe wrote a letter to the Committee of
General Safety, asking for the release of Mr. Paine, in which, among
other things, he said:
"The services Thomas Paine rendered to his country
in its struggle for freedom have implanted in the hearts of his
countrymen a sense of gratitude never to be effaced as long as
they shall deserve the title of a just and generous
people."
On reaching America, Paine found that the sense of gratitude had
been effaced. He found that the Federalists hated him with all their
hearts because he believed in the rights of the people and was still
true to the splendid principles advocated during the darkest days of
the Revolution. In almost every pulpit he found a malignant and
implacable foe, and the pews were filled with his enemies. The
slaveholders hated him. He was held responsible even for the crimes
of the French Revolution. He was regarded as a blasphemer, an
atheist, an enemy of God and man. The ignorant citizens of
Bordentown, as cowardly as orthodox, longed to mob the author of
"Common Sense" and "The Crises." They thought he had sold himself to
the devil because he had defended God against the slanderous charges
that he had inspired the writers of the Bible — because he had said
that a being of infinite goodness and purity did not establish
slavery and polygamy.
Paine had insisted that men had the right to think for themselves.
This so enraged the average American citizen that he longed for
revenge.
In 1802 the people of the United States had exceedingly crude
ideas about the liberty of thought and expression. Neither had they
any conception of religious freedom. Their highest thought on that
subject was expressed by the word "toleration," and even this
toleration extended only to the various Christian sects. Even the
vaunted religious liberty of colonial Maryland was only to the effect
that one kind of Christian should not find,
imprison and kill another kind of Christian, but all kinds of
Christians had the right, and it was their duty, to brand, imprison
and kill infidels of every kind.
Paine had been guilty of thinking for himself and giving his
conclusions to the world without having asked the consent of a
priest — just as he had published his political opinions without leave
of the king. He had published his thoughts on religion and had
appealed to reason — to the light in every mind, to the humanity, the
pity, the goodness which he believed to be in every heart. He denied
the right of kings to make laws and of priests to make creeds. He
insisted that the people should make laws, and that every human being
should think for himself. While some believed in the freedom of
religion, he believed in the religion of freedom.
If Paine had been a hypocrite, if he had concealed his opinions,
if he had defended slavery with quotations from the "sacred
scriptures" — if he had cared nothing for the liberties of men in
other lands — if he had said that the state could not live without the
church — if he had sought for place instead of truth, he would have
won wealth and power, and his brow would have been crowned with the
laurel of fame.
He made what the pious call the "mistake" of being true to
himself — of living with an unstained soul. He had lived and labored
for the people. The people were untrue to him. They returned evil for
good, hatred for benefits received, and yet this great chivalric soul
remembered their ignorance and loved them with all his heart, and
fought their oppressors with all his strength.
We must remember what the churches and creeds were in that day,
what the theologians really taught, and what the people believed. To
save a few in spite of their vices, and to damn the many without
regard to their virtues, and all for the glory of the
Damner: — this was Calvinism." He that hath ears to hear, let
him hear," but he that hath a brain to think must not think. He that
believeth without evidence is good, and he that believeth in spite of
evidence is a saint. Only the wicked doubt, only the blasphemer
denies. That was orthodox Christianity.
Thomas Paine had the courage, the sense, the heart, to denounce
these horrors, these absurdities, these infinite infamies. He did
what he could to drive these theological vipers, these Calvinistic
cobras, these fanged and hissing serpents of superstition from the
heart of man.
A few civilized men agreed with him then, and the world has
progressed since 1809. Intellectual wealth has accumulated; vast
mental estates have been left to the world. Geologists have forced
secrets from the rocks, astronomers from the stars, historians from
old records and lost languages. In every direction the thinker and
the investigator have ventured and explored, and even the pews have
begun to ask questions of the pulpits. Humboldt has lived, and Darwin
and Haeckel and Huxley, and the armies led by them, have changed the
thought of the world.
The churches of 1809 could not be the friends of Thomas Paine. No
church asserting that belief is necessary to salvation ever was, or
ever will be, the champion of true liberty. A church founded on
slavery — that is to say, on blind obedience, worshipping
irresponsible and arbitrary power, must of necessity be the enemy of
human freedom.
The orthodox churches are now anxious to save the little that
Paine left of their creed. If one now believes in God, and lends a
little financial aid, he is considered a good and desirable member.
He need not define God after the manner of the catechism. He may talk
about a "Power that works for righteousness"; or the tortoise Truth
that beats the rabbit Lie in the long run; or the "Unknowable"; or
the "Unconditioned"; or the "Cosmic Force"; or the "Ultimate Atom";
or "Protoplasm," or the "What" — provided he begins this word with a
capital.
We must also remember that there is a difference between
independence and liberty. Millions have fought for independence — to
throw off some foreign yoke — and yet were at heart the enemies of
true liberty. A man in jail, sighing to be free, may be said to be in
favor of liberty, but not from principle; but a man who, being free,
risks or gives his life to free the enslaved, is a true soldier of
liberty.
Thomas Paine had passed the legendary limit of life. One by one
most of his old friends and acquaintances had deserted him. Maligned
on every side, execrated, shunned and abhorred — his virtues denounced
as vices — his services forgotten — his character blackened, he
preserved the poise and balance of his soul. He was a victim of the
people, but his convictions remained unshaken. He was still a soldier
in the army of freedom, and still tried to enlighten and civilize
those who were impatiently waiting for his death. Even those who
loved their enemies hated him, their friend — the friend of the whole
world — with all their hearts.
On the 8th of June, 1809, death came — Death, almost his only
friend.
At his funeral no pomp, no pageantry, no civic procession, no
military display. In a carriage, a woman and her son who had lived on
the bounty of the dead — on horseback, a Quaker, the humanity of whose
heart dominated the creed of his head — and, following on foot, two
negroes, filled with gratitude — constituted the funeral cortege of
Thomas Paine.
He who had received the gratitude of many millions, the thanks of
generals and statesmen — he who had been the friend and companion of
the wisest and best — he who had taught a people to be free, and whose
words had inspired armies and enlightened nations, was thus given
back to Nature, the mother of us all.
If the people of the great Republic knew the life of this
generous, this chivalric man, the real story of his services, his
sufferings and his triumphs — of what he did to compel the robed and
crowned, the priests and kings, to give back to the people liberty,
the jewel of the soul; if they knew that he was the first to write,
"The Religion of Humanity"; if they knew that he, above all others,
planted and watered the seeds of independence, of union, of
nationality, in the hearts of our forefathers — that his words were
gladly repeated by the best and bravest in many lands; if they knew
that he attempted, by the purest means, to attain the noblest and
loftiest ends — that he was original, sincere, intrepid, and that he
could truthfully say: "The world is my country, to do good my
religion" — if the people only knew all this — the truth — they would
repeat the words of Andrew Jackson: "Thomas Paine needs no monument
made with hands; he has erected a monument in the hearts of all
lovers of liberty."
ROBERT G.
INGERSOLL.
