Thomas Paine (Magazine Article)
A magazine article.

by Robert G. Ingersoll
(1892)

From The Works of Robert G. Ingersoll (Dresden Edition, 1900–1902), Volume 11.
Source: https://thegreatagnostic.com/works/thomas-paine-magazine-article/
Public domain. CC0 / Public Domain Mark 1.0.

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"A great man's memory may outlive his life half a year,
    But, by'r lady, he must build churches then."

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
employeed 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
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 two million five hundred thousand livres 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 five hundred dollars,
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 one million five hundred thousand dollars 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 pretences, 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 1688 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 toward
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 dueling, 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 mon-archs, 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,—tor 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 marvelous 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, Chadwick, 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 Gouverneur 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
speak 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 Crisis." 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 fine, 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. This 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, worshiping 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."—North American Review, August, 1893.
