Lectures of Col. R.G. Ingersoll | Page 2

and with a never-tiring tongue should
recount his virtues.
He was a common man. He did not belong to the aristocracy. Upon the
head of his father God had never poured the divine petroleum of
authority. He had not the misfortune to belong to the upper classes. He

had the fortune to be born among the poor and to feel against his great
heart the throb of the toiling and suffering masses. Neither was it his
misfortune to have been educated at Oxford. What little sense he had
was not squeezed out at Westminster. He got his education from books.
He got his education from contact with fellow-men, and he thought,
and a man is worth just what nature impresses upon him. A man
standing by the sea, or in a forest, or looking at a flower, or hearing a
poem, or looking in the eyes of the woman he loves, receives all that he
is capable of receiving--and if he is a great man the impression is great,
and he uses it for the purpose of benefiting his fellow-man.
Thomas Paine was not rich, he was poor, and his father before him was
poor, and he was raised a sailmaker, a very lowly profession, and yet
that man became one of the mainstays of liberty in this world. At one
time he was an excise man, like Burns. Burns was once--speak it softly
--a gauger--and yet he wrote poems that will wet the cheek of humanity
with tears as long as the world travels in its orb around the sun.
Poverty was his brother, necessity his master. He had more brains than
books; more courage than politeness; more strength than polish. He had
no veneration for old mistakes, no admiration for ancient lies. He loved
the truth for truth's sake and for man's sake. He saw oppression on
every hand, injustice everywhere, hypocrisy at the altar, venality on the
bench, tyranny on the throne, and with a splendid courage he espoused
the cause of the weak against the strong, of the enslaved many against
the titled few.
In England he was nothing. He belonged to the lower classes--that is,
the useful people. England depended for her prosperity upon her
mechanics and her thinkers, her sailors and her workers, and they are
the only men in Europe who are not gentlemen. The only obstacles in
the way of progress in Europe were the nobility and the priests, and
they are the only gentlemen.
This, and his native genius, constituted his entire capital, and he needed
no more. He found the colonies clamoring for justice; whining about
their grievances; upon their knees at the foot of the throne, imploring
that mixture of idiocy and insanity, George III., by the grace of God,
for a restoration of their ancient privileges. They were not endeavoring
to become free men, but were trying to soften the heart of their master.
They were perfectly willing to make brick if Pharaoh would furnish the

straw. The colonists wished for, hoped for, and prayed for
reconciliation. They did not dream of independence.
Paine gave to the world his "Common Sense." It was the first argument
for separation; the first assault upon the British form of government;
the first blow for a republic, and it aroused our fathers like a trumpet's
blast. He was the first to perceive the destiny of the new world. No
other pamphlet ever accomplished such wonderful results. It was filled
with arguments, reasons, persuasions, and unanswerable logic. It
opened a new world. It filled the present with hope and the future with
honor. Everywhere the people responded, and in a few months the
Continental Congress declared the colonies free and independent states.
A new nation was born.
It is simple justice to say that Paine did more to cause the Declaration
of Independence than any other man. Neither should it be forgotten that
his attacks upon Great Britain were also attacks upon monarchy, and
while he convinced the people that the colonies ought to separate from
the mother country, he also proved to them that a free government is
the best that can be instituted among men.
In my judgment Thomas Paine was the best political writer that ever
lived. "What he wrote was pure nature, and his soul and his pen ever
went together." Ceremony, pageantry, and all the paraphernalia of
power had no effect upon him. He examined into the why and
wherefore of things. He was perfectly radical in his mode of thought.
Nothing short of the bed-rock satisfied him. His enthusiasm for what he
believed to be right knew no bounds. During all the dark scenes of the
revolution never for a moment did he despair. Year after year his brave
words were ringing through the land, and by the bivouac