been content to labor as a common soldier in the army of progress,
confining his efforts to no country, looking upon the world as his
field of action. Filled with a genuine love for the right, he found
himself imprisoned by the very people he had striven to save.

Had his enemies succeeded in bringing him to the block, he would have
escaped the calumnies and the hatred of the Christian world. And let me
tell you how neat they came getting him to the block. He was in prison,
there was a door to his cell--it had two doors, a door that opened in
and an iron door that opened out. It was a dark passage, and whenever
they concluded to cut a man's head off the next day, an agent went
along and made a chalk mark upon the door where the poor prisoner was
bound. Mr. Barlow, the American minister, happened to be with him and
the outer door was shut, that is, open against the wall, and the inner
door was shut, and when the man came along whose business it was to
mark the door for death, he marked this door where Thomas Paine was,
but he marked the door that was against the wall, so when it was shut
the mark was inside, and the messenger of death passed by on the next
day. If that had happened in favor of some Methodist preacher, they
would have clearly seen, not simply the hand of God, but both hands.
In this country, at least, he would have ranked with the proudest
names. On the anniversary of the Declaration, his name would have been
upon the lips of all orators, and his memory in the hearts of all the
people.

Thomas Paine had not finished his career. He had spent his life thus
far in destroying the power of kings, and now turned his attention to
the priests. He knew that every abuse had been embalmed in
scripture--that every outrage was in partnership with some holy text.
He knew that the throne skulked behind the altar, and both behind a
pretended revelation of God. By this time he had found that it was of
little use to free the body and leave the mind in chains. He had
explored the foundations of despotism, and had found them infinitely
rotten. He had dug under the throne, and it occurred to him that he
would take a look behind the altar. The result of this investigation
was given to the world in the "Age of Reason." From the moment of its
publication he became infamous. He was calumniated beyond measure.
To slander him was to secure the thanks of the church. All his
services were instantly forgotten, disparage