HKB
Were I to write the biography of Thomas Paine, I should, with a bold hand, transcend the low office of a chronicler, and hand him down in history thus:
Thomas Paine was of Quaker origin. In this he inherited more than paternal flesh and blood, more than family form and feature: he had transmitted to him the principles of George Fox--principles which were, when Mr. Paine was born, more than a hundred years old. These were a reliance on the internal evidences of the conscience, prompting to moral action and to the love of God. In this the shadow of Fox fell athwart the Scriptures. The internal light was with him greater than that which shone down on the centuries from Jesus of Nazareth. The religions, and creeds, and opinions of the world were to be brought to the bar of conscience for trial, and "the motions of the spirit"--not the teachings of the Bible--were to be taken in evidence. His principles were universal in the heart of man--not particular in any special book.
To these religious principles was added simplicity of conduct in all the ways of life. In religious or civil affairs, whether at home or abroad, with his fellow-man or his God, he was to obey the behests of nature, and not of man. To avoid the extravagance of dress, to walk with dignity and grace, to deal uprightly, to love mercy, to rely on the light within, to train the heart to courage and the head to understanding, became the chief aim of all the followers of Fox. The consequence was, they never bent the knee to the forms of worship, nor uncovered the head to the forms of fashion. To the Quaker, a virtuous, upright, and honorable laborer was of as much consequence, in the line of respect and the eyes of God, as the noblest lord of the realm. No outward show, no pageantry of church or court, could awaken him to respect. He looked within: there he felt the movings of the spirit, there he saw the image of his God, there he went in to worship.
What must be the result of this religion? It must transmit self-reliance, fortitude, courage, and morality to the individual, and a sympathy for mankind which will grant the equality of rights, and produce a contempt for outward show, for outward forms and ceremonies. These characteristics will be transmitted to children's children, and democracy is born into a race of men before they know it, or before they know how or why. But here an effect must not be taken for a cause. It was the democratic principle abroad in the world which produced the Quaker religion, not this religion which produced it, and this religion became afterward an engine for thrusting democracy more deeply into the constitution of man. It had a work to do, and it did it by inheritance. It was the democracy of Cromwell, "that accomplished President of England," which could sympathize with the religion of Fox, which could see no wrong in the man, and which could protect him from persecution. On the other hand, it was the religion of Penn, which would insult the pride of nobles by not uncovering itself, and bowing in the presence of royalty.
Now, every religion has a birth, growth, culmination, and subsequent decay. It culminates in the production of some great man, who represents, and at the same time transcends, the causes which produced him, and who afterward abandons the religion which gave him birth. It has then fulfilled its work, and will eventually die. Jesus of Nazareth was the fulfillment of the Jewish religion; Luther, of the Catholic. The minor religions obey the same law. Unitarianism culminated in Theodore Parker; Quakerism, in Thomas Paine. At the culminating point, the typical child which is born, grows up, and comes out from or tramples upon the religion which produced him, and is called a "come-outer," a "protester," an "image-breaker," or an "infidel." But he has been