from
The Age of
Reason by Thomas Paine
(see
also pp. 130-134 of your Prentice Hall text)
Chapter One:
The Author’s Profession of Faith
It
has been my intention, for several years past, to publish my thoughts upon
religion; I am well aware of the difficulties that attend the subject, and from
that consideration, had reserved it to a more advanced period of life. I
intended it to be the last offering I should make to my fellow-citizens of all
nations, and that at a time when the purity of the motive that induced me to it
could not admit of a question, even by those who might disapprove the work.
…
As
several of my colleagues, and others of my fellow-citizens of France, have
given me the example of making their voluntary and individual profession of
faith, I also will make mine; and I do this with all that sincerity and
frankness with which the mind of man communicates with itself.
I
believe in one God, and no more; and I hope for happiness beyond this life.
I
believe in the equality of man, and I believe that religious duties consist in
doing justice, loving mercy, and endeavouring to make our fellow-creatures
happy.
But,
lest it should be supposed that I believe many other things in addition to
these, I shall, in the progress of this work, declare the things I do not
believe, and my reasons for not believing them.
I
do not believe in the creed professed by the Jewish church, by the Roman
church, by the Greek church, by the Turkish church, by the Protestant church,
nor by any church that I know of. My own mind is my own church.
All
national institutions of churches, whether Jewish, Christian, or Turkish,
appear to me no other than human inventions set up to terrify and enslave
mankind, and monopolize power and profit.
I
do not mean by this declaration to condemn those who believe otherwise; they
have the same right to their belief as 1 have to mine. But it is necessary to
the happiness of man, that he be mentally faithful to himself. Infidelity does
not consist in believing, or in disbelieving; it consists in professing to
believe what he does not believe.
Soon
after I had published the pamphlet Common Sense, in America, I saw the exceeding probability that a
revolution in the system of government would be followed by a revolution in the
system of religion. The adulterous connection of church and state, wherever it
had taken place, whether Jewish, Christian, or Turkish, had so effectually
prohibited, by pains and penalties, every discussion upon established creeds,
and upon first principles of religion, that until the system of government
should be changed, those subjects could not be brought fairly and openly before
the world; but that whenever this should be done, a revolution in the system of
religion would follow. Human inventions and priest-craft would be detected; and
man would return to the pure, unmixed, and unadulterated belief of one God, and
no more.
OVER
Chapter Three:
Concerning the Character of Jesus Christ, and His History
Nothing
that is here said can apply, even with the most distant disrespect, to the real
character of Jesus Christ. He was
a virtuous and an amiable man. The morality that he preached and practised was
of the most benevolent kind; and though similar systems of morality had been
preached by Confucius, and by some of the Greek philosophers, many years
before, by the Quakers since, and by many good men in all ages, it has not been
exceeded by any.
Jesus
Christ wrote no account of himself, of his birth, parentage, or anything else.
Not a line of what is called the New Testament is of his writing. The history
of him is altogether the work of other people; and as to the account given of
his resurrection and ascension, it was the necessary counterpart to the story
of his birth. His historians, having brought him into the world in a
supernatural manner, were obliged to take him out again in the same manner, or
the first part of the story must have fallen to the ground.
The
wretched contrivance with which this latter part is told, exceeds everything
that went before it. The first part, that of the miraculous conception, was not
a thing that admitted of publicity; and therefore the tellers of this part of
the story had this advantage, that though they might not be credited, they
could not be detected. They could not be expected to prove it, because it was
not one of those things that admitted of proof, and it was impossible that the
person of whom it was told could prove it himself.
But
the resurrection of a dead person from the grave, and his ascension through the
air, is a thing very different, as to the evidence it admits of, to the invisible
conception of a child in the womb. The resurrection and ascension, supposing
them to have taken place, admitted of public and ocular demonstration, like
that of the ascension of a balloon, or the sun at noon day, to all Jerusalem at
least. A thing which everybody is required to believe, requires that the proof
and evidence of it should be equal to all, and universal; and as the public
visibility of this last related act was the only evidence that could give
sanction to the former part, the whole of it falls to the ground, because that
evidence never was given. Instead of this, a small number of persons, not more
than eight or nine, are introduced as proxies for the whole world, to say they
saw it, and all the rest of the world are called upon to believe it. But it
appears that Thomas did not believe the resurrection; and, as they say, would
not believe without having ocular and manual demonstration himself. So
neither will I; and the reason is
equally as good for me, and for every person, as for Thomas.
from The Autobiography by
Benjamin Franklin
(see also pp. 108—118 in
your Prentice Hall text)
Before
I enter upon my public appearance in business, it may be well to let you know
the then state of my mind with regard to my principles and morals, that you may
see how far those influenc’d the future events of my life. My parents had
early given me religious impressions, and brought me through my childhood
piously in the Dissenting way. But I was scarce fifteen, when, after doubting
by turns of several points, as I found them disputed in the different books I
read, I began to doubt of Revelation itself. Some books against Deism fell into
my hands; they were said to be the substance of sermons preached at
Boyle’s Lectures. It happened that they wrought an effect on me quite
contrary to what was intended by them; for the arguments of the Deists, which
were quoted to be refuted, appeared to me much stronger than the refutations;
in short, I soon became a thorough Deist. My arguments perverted some others,
particularly Collins and Ralph;1 but,
each of them having afterwards wrong’d me greatly without the least
compunction, and recollecting Keith’s conduct towards me”2 (who was another freethinker), and my own
towards Vernon3 and Miss Read,4 which at times gave me great trouble, I
began to suspect that this doctrine, tho’ it might be true, was not very
useful. My London pamphlet,5 which
had for its motto these lines of Dryden:
“Whatever is, is
right. Though purblind man Sees but a part o’ the chain, the nearest link:
His eyes not carrying to the equal beam, That poises all above;”
and from the attributes of God, his infinite wisdom,
goodness and power, concluded that nothing could possibly be wrong in the
world, and that vice and virtue were empty distinctions, no such things
existing, appeared now not so clever a performance as I once thought it; and I
doubted whether some error had not insinuated itself unperceiv’d into my
argument, so as to infect all that follow’d, as is common in metaphysical
reasonings.
I
grew convinc’d that truth, sincerity and
integrity in dealings between man
and man were of the utmost importance to the felicity of life; and I
form’d written resolutions, which still remain in my journal book, to
practice them ever while I lived. Revelation had indeed no weight with me, as
such; but I entertain’d an opinion that, though certain actions might not
be bad because they were
forbidden by it, or good because it
commanded them, yet probably those actions might be forbidden because
they were bad for us, or commanded because
they were beneficial to us, in their own natures,
all the circumstances of things considered. And this persuasion, with the kind
hand of Providence, or some guardian angel, or accidental favourable
circumstances and situations, or all together, preserved me, thro’ this
dangerous time of youth, and the hazardous situations I was sometimes in among
strangers, remote from the eye and advice of my father, without any willful
gross immorality or injustice, that might have been expected from my want of
religion. (Some foolish intrigues with low women excepted, which from the
expense were rather more prejudicial to me than to them.) I say willful,
because the instances I have mentioned had something of necessity in them, from my youth, inexperience, and the knavery
of others. I had therefore a tolerable character to begin the world with; I
valued it properly, and determined to preserve it.
__________________
1. Collins
and Ralph: John
Collins was a boyhood friend of Franklin in Boston and later a companion in
Philadelphia; he borrowed money from Franklin and disappeared into Barbados
without repaying it. James Ralph, a Philadelphia clerk with poetic aspirations,
went with Franklin to London and remained there, dying in 1762.
2. Keith’s
conduct towards me:
Sir William Keith (1680– 1749), governor of Pennsylvania (1717–49),
promised to help Franklin to a position of profit in London, but neglected to
write the requisite letters and so left the boy destitute in the metropolis.
3. towards
Vernon: Samuel
Vernon, a silversmith in Newport, RI., commissioned Franklin to recover a debt
of thirty-five pounds in Pennsylvania; Franklin secured the money, but lost
most of it by lending to Collins.
4.
and Miss Read:
Franklin had “made some courtship” to Deborah (“Debby”)
before going to England, but gave every appearance of deserting her. She made
an unfortunate marriage, which was dissolved by the time he returned. He made
amends by marrying her in 1730.
5. My
London pamphlet:
A Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain (1725), printed by himself. He
later strove to destroy all copies.
OVER
I
began now gradually to pay off the debt I was under for the printing-house. In
order to secure my credit and character as a tradesman, I took care not only to
be in reality industrious and frugal,
but to avoid all appearances to the contrary, I drest plainly; I was seen at no
places of idle diversion. I never went out a fishing or shooting; a book,
indeed, sometimes debauch’d me from my work, but that was seldom, snug,
and gave no scandal; and, to show that I was not above my business, I sometimes
brought home the paper I purchas’d at the stores thro’ the streets
on a wheelbarrow. Thus being esteem’d an industrious, thriving young man,
and paying duly for what I bought, the merchants who imported stationery
solicited my custom; others proposed supplying me with books, and I went on
swimmingly. In the mean time, Keimer’s credit and business
declining daily, he was at last forc’d to sell his printing-house to
satisfy his creditors. He went to Barbados, and there lived some years in very
poor circumstances.
I had been religiously educated as a Presbyterian; and though’ some of the dogmas of
that persuasion, such as the eternal decrees of God, election, reprobation,
etc., appeared to me unintelligible, others
doubtful, and I early absented myself from the public assemblies of the sect,
Sunday being my studying day, I never was without some religious principles. I
never doubted, for instance, the existence of the Deity; that he made the
world, and govern’d it by his Providence; that the most acceptable
service of God was the doing good to man; that our souls are immortal; and that
all crime will be punished, and virtue rewarded, either here or hereafter.
These I esteem’d the essentials of every religion; and, being to be found
in all the religions we had in our country, I respected them all, though’
with different degrees of respect, as I found them more or less mix’d
with other articles, which, without any tendency to inspire, promote, or
confirm morality, serv’d principally to divide us, and make us unfriendly
to one another. This respect to all, with an opinion that the worst had some
good effects, induc’d me to avoid all discourse that might tend to lessen
the good opinion another might have of his own religion; and as our province
increas’d in people, and new places of worship were continually wanted,
and generally erected by voluntary contribution, my mite for such purpose,
whatever might be the sect, was never refused.
Though’ I seldom attended any public worship, I
had still an opinion of its propriety, and of its utility when rightly
conducted, and I regularly paid my annual subscription for the support of the
only Presbyterian minister or meeting we had in Philadelphia. He us’d to
visit me sometimes as a friend, and admonish me to attend his administrations,
and I was now and then prevail’d on to do so, once for five Sundays
successively. Had he been in my opinion a good preacher, perhaps I might have
continued, notwithstanding the occasion I had for the Sunday’s leisure in
my course of study; but his discourses were chiefly either polemic arguments,
or explications of the peculiar doctrines of our sect, and were all to me very
dry, uninteresting, and unedifying, since not a single moral principle was
inculcated or enforc’d, their aim seeming to be rather to make us
Presbyterians than good citizens.
At length he took for his text that verse of the
fourth chapter of Philippians, “Finally, brethren, whatsoever things
are true, honest, just, pure, lovely, or of good report, if there be any
virtue, or any praise, think on these things.” And I imagin’d, in
a sermon on such a text, we could not miss of having some morality. But he
confin’d himself to five points only, as meant by the apostle, viz.: 1.
Keeping holy the Sabbath day. 2. Being diligent in reading the holy Scriptures.
3. Attending duly the publick worship. 4. Partaking of the Sacrament. 5. Paying
a due respect to God’s ministers. These might be all good things; but, as
they were not the kind of good things that I expected from that text, I
despaired of ever meeting with them from any other, was disgusted, and attended
his preaching no more. I had some years before compos’d a little Liturgy,
or form of prayer, for my own private use (viz., in 1728), entitled, Articles
of Belief and Acts of Religion. I
return’d to the use of this, and went no more to the public assemblies.
My conduct might be blameable, but I leave it, without attempting further to
excuse it; my present purpose being to relate facts, and not to make apologies
for them.