Rise and Fall of Thomas Paine: A Study in Effect of Timing

The prison mirror (Stillwater, Minn.), September 23, 1943

By Elkins (The Prison Mirror was written the the incarcerated who often used pseudonyms)

Probable greatest of all American radicals was individualist, political writer Thomas Paine. He could add the same two words together and get two or twenty or two hundred as a total. He wrote himself into enviable fame. And then able to go no higher he wrote himself into social and political oblivion. His brilliant literature held a star still for him to mount. And then it dug a dungeon in which to imprison him.

Remarkable among the works that came from his prolific pen are “Common Sense,” “The Rights of Man,” and the “Age of Reason.” The former two plummetted him to fame. And the latter to ruin. His first words in “The Crisis,” “These are the times that try men’s souls,” echo whenever men strive against each other in war. They shall always continue to do so, because they are so simple and yet so brilliant in what they express.

His “Common Sense” moulded the mass opinion which eventually conditioned the Colonies for present-day democratic government in these United States. “The Rights of Man” aided the French Revolution in the formation of a constitution. And then came his “Age of Reason.” It broke him. It was a brilliant opinion contrary to orthodox religious philosophy. It was a daring, opinionated, remarkable piece of literature which would have been accepted in the liberal circles of this century. But the eighteenth century was very poor timing for such a work to reach the public. There is a time for everything. One does not dance about gayly at funerals just as one does not go to a dance hall to pray. And anyone eccentric or individualistic enough to do so can expect the jeers of those to whom such conduct is immediately offensive.

Such eventually became the plight of the distinguished Paine. But he met with few jeers at the beginning. He was radical, essentially an advanced liberal. Possessed of a wealth of expression, his writings were difficult to resist. Reasonable and unreasonable men alike were wooed by his words. Anti-imperialists found in him a champion. His every word in his pamphlet “Common Sense” was indeed common sense to them. To them he was not a radical. Only to the pro-imperialists was he such.

And even many of them whose sincerity was not too stable joined his ranks. He is still radical, they thought. But the times are ripe for such a brand of radicalism. And they were right.

They were right again when they lauded him for his literature on the French revolution. Again his timing was perfect. To add to the thinking of that moment came “The Rights of Man.” It constituted practically the same philosophy as “Common Sense.” But in context it was broader, deeper, richer. Perhaps his literary experience had gained this from the former writing. It was so impressive a document that it landed him on the shaded side of a French prison wall. But at the time his name rested high on the list of great Americans. And as a result, political influence soon caused his freedom to be restored.

Then he wrote “Age of Reason.” But why? Didn’t he know it was poor timing? Didn’t he know that any writing derogatory to or critical of religion is poor timing? He must have. It is impossible to believe that a man of Paine’s quality of reasoning did not realize the probable price of such folly. But perhaps he had reached the mental state where he considered himself above reproach. Perhaps he felt that he had aided the States to such an extent that the church would tolerate such a flagrant violation. Perhaps he had watched men and their events so long in the course of his opinion moulding that he felt himself capable of reorganizing their spiritual lives into conformation with his own personal philosophy. Or perhaps because of the lack of a political crisis on any of his immediate horizons he became bored and turned his pen from its usual slant with a helpful intent. Even biographer Gamaliel Bradford, famous for his excellent probing of men’s souls, seemed unable to understand Paine’s reasoning in having the book published. “He,” said Bradford, referring to Paine and his book, “probably had something to say, and men had always been guided by his words so he said them, not hesitating to realize that men’s souls are not as alterable as their heads.”

Such was the rise and fall of a great radical. Such men must forever seek a cause to champion. Yet such men must never fail to consider that there is no wrong, no cause to champion when the opinion of the public is not in doubt. Public opinion must be discontented before it needs a champion. And a man can only ride to fame on his radical views when he is capable of weighing the trend of the public mind to know when it is time to speak and when it is time not to.