Rousseau was, by his confession, a habitual liar and thief, and debauchee; a man so utterly vile that he took advantage of the hospitality of friends to plot their domestic ruin; a man so destitute of natural affection that he committed his base-born children to the charity of the public. To use his own language, “guilty without remorse, he soon become so without measure.”
Thomas Paine was, according to the verdict of history, “addicted to intemperance in his last years, given to violence and abusiveness, had disreputable associates, lived with a woman who was not his wife, and left to her whatever remnant of fortune he had.”
What would such godless infidels give us if the Almighty God should “pour the petroleum of authority upon their heads?” But, in all candor, what use has Col. Ingersoll for the idea of authority coming from God? Can't he keep in his own ruts. “The divine petroleum of authority was never poured upon the head of Thomas Paine's father.” Well, so much the better for the reputation of God. But why does Mr. Ingersoll use the term God, and have so much to say of Him? Let us hear him. He says, whoever is a friend of man is also a friend of God—if there is one. Yes! “is there is one.” This reminds me of an old infidel who was struggling with the cramp colic, and just as a minister was approaching his bedside he turned himself over in the bed and said, O Lord, if there is any Lord, save my soul, if I've got any soul. The minister walked out. What is the condition of those minds which modify their declarations with the saying “if there is any Lord,” “if there is one,” “if I've got any soul.” How much more manly is it to own the great universal and instinctive [pg 180] or inate truth, that there is a Master, God, or great first Living Intelligence, and cease acting foolishly.
Once more, the colonel, speaking of Thomas Paine's work, says, “He was with the army. He shared its defeats, its dangers, and its glory. When the situation became desperate, when gloom settled upon all, he gave them the ‘Crisis.’ It was a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, leading the way to freedom, honor and glory.” What use has the colonel for such language? From whence did it come? Is he sitting upon the bones of Moses and making grimaces at the old prophet while he is adopting his sentences? Infidels blaspheme the name of Moses, and abuse his hyperboles and his facts as well, and, at the same time, go to his quiver to get their very best arrows.
“At the close of the Revolution no one stood higher in America than Thomas Paine.”—Ingersoll.
“At that time the seeds sown by the great infidels were beginning to bear fruit in France.”—Ingersoll.
Well, well. To what “mount” have we come at last? Paine sailed to France in 1787. “He was elected to represent the Department of Calais in the National Convention, and took his seat in that radical assembly in 1792.” At this time Col. Ingersoll's church had everything its own way in France. There was no God to respect or devil to fear. “Free thought” ruled—its reign was a reign of night. The goddess of reason was the “twin sister of the Spanish Inquisition.” The soldiers were in power, and great hearts were made to bleed. Three hundred and sixty-six men in the National Convention voted for the death of the king. Three hundred and fifty-five voted against his execution. It is true that Tom Paine was one of the three hundred and fifty-five. A year after the king's execution Tom was put into prison, and remained there nearly two years. When he was released he wrote the second part of the Age of Reason, and in 1802 he came back to America. What he did for American liberty was done while he was a Quaker, and before he wrote his detestable works against the Bible. Let some bold infidel produce just one noble public [pg 181] act that Paine did for our country after he avowed himself an infidel. Will it be done?
The leaders of the French revolution were the disciples of Rousseau, Voltaire and Diderot. They were atheists, or infidels. Tom Paine was one of their number, participated in their deliberations, helped to get up the constitution they enacted. What they did is what the infidels of the United States wish to have done. They wiped out Christianity by vote, and forbade the utterance of the name of God to their children. They abolished the Lord's day, and made the week to consist of ten instead of seven days. They took the bells from the churches and cast them into cannons. Chaumette, a leader in the convention, came before the president “leading a courtesan with a troop of her associates.” He lifted her veil, and said, “Mortals! recognize no other divinity than Reason, of which I present to you the loveliest and purest personification.” The president bowed and rendered devout adoration. The same scene was reënacted in the cathedral of Notre Dame, with increased outrages upon God and common-sense. Wrong was reputed right, and the distinction between vice and virtue was banished.
From this time, and onward, the test of attachment to the government was contempt for religion and decency. Those suspected of disloyalty were gathered; one thousand and five hundred women and children were shut up in one prison, without fire, bed, cover, or provisions, for two days. Men escaped by giving up their fortunes, and women escaped by parting with their virtue.
Seventeen thousand perished in Paris during this reign of infidel terror. This ungodly abrogation of religion in France cost the nation three million of lives—think of it! France's most dark and damning record was the fruit of the tenets of the men that Col. Ingersoll lauds to the heavens. They were the fruits of the labors of the men with whom Tom Paine sat, and believed, and voted. “His faith was their faith.”