Turning to paragraph nineteen of section three, Paine
therein seemed to hint in the direction of the providential or predestined
nature of American independence. A continued connection between the Thirteen
Colonies and Britain, he argued, would inevitably and to no good effect drag
the American colonists into one conflict after another in whose successful
conclusion they had little to gain and much to lose. American trade in
particular, the cornerstone of an economy dependent on the importation of manufactured
goods in the absence of native industry, was most likely to suffer in the event
of war between the British and one of their various Great Power rivals whether
said conflict had anything to do with Britain’s American territories or not.
This, Paine asserted, was best understood as a signifier of how ill-suited the
two regions were, Europe and North America, to exist in a relationship of
mutual dependence. Indeed, he wrote, “The distance at which the Almighty hath
placed England and America, is a strong and natural proof, that the authority
of the one, over the other, was never the design of Heaven.” Thusly, Paine was
able to transition from an argument seemingly against the logic of two distant
territories possessing such an intimate relationship to one that speculated
whether the continuation of said relationship wasn't a violation of God’s
manifest will. This was, to his credit, smoothly done, and tapped expertly into
the aforementioned millenarian strain of thought present in 18th-century
American Protestantism.
What Paine claimed to have an interest in, and no doubt
believed his audience would as well, was “the design of Heaven.” This ineffable
master plan, the details of which were generally understood to be beyond human
comprehension, nonetheless exerted a strong influence on Christian, and in
particular Protestant, thought. If it was the manifest design of the Almighty
that America be a world unto itself, untethered from allegiance to any other
region of the globe, then it would have followed that the separation of the
Thirteen Colonies from British hegemony constituted a furtherance of the
selfsame hallowed manifesto. Paine’s audience was likely well-primed to
recognize and respond to arguments such as this. Rhetoric had often been
deployed by members of the American colonies’ various religion communities over
the centuries between the beginning of the colonial era and the 1770s that
contained numerous allusions to the New World as a kind of “promised land,”
religious refuge, or the site of a general social and/or historical
regeneration. Even among the members of the colonies’ educated classes, who had
generally moved away from adherence to orthodox religion and embraced some form
of the European Enlightenment’s spiritual rationalism, there were those who
found it difficult to resist characterizing the burgeoning American
civilization as one ideally suited, if not destined, for a degree of social and
philosophical perfection not possible in arch-traditionalist Europe.
Paine was very wise to recognize this tendency in American
religious and philosophical thought, and appears to have buttressed many of his
arguments with allusions to the inevitability of American independence, the
importance of recognizing and following one’s destiny, and the special place that
America supposedly occupied in the history of Western civilization. Events, he
time and again declared, had appeared to conspire to place the American
continent in a unique position. At the bottom of the abovementioned paragraph
nineteen, Paine made the particularly weighty observation that, “the
Reformation was preceded by the discovery of America, as if the Almighty
graciously meant to open a sanctuary to the persecuted in future years, when
home should afford neither friendship not safety.” There are, I think, two
things about this claim of Paine’s that are particularly worthy of
consideration. One is the way it reinforces an understanding of history as
being a function of the Christian God’s ordering of events in a specific
sequence. In the predestination/millennialism-tinged Protestant view of human
existence, one thing happens after the other for a reason, and all things are
leading towards a predetermined end. When Paine speculated that the Reformation
(beginning in 1517) was preceded by the discovery of the Americas (beginning in
1492) in order so that the latter region could serve as a refuge for the
soon-to-be persecuted Protestant faithful he effectively endorsed this
perception of history. It perhaps follows, given the numerous instances over the
course of Common Sense in which Paine
made note of the inevitable nature of American independence, that he regarded a
separation between the Thirteen Colonies and Great Britain to be the next major
event in God’s immutable design. This interpretation of Paine’s intention is, I
think, reinforced by the second element worth noting about his aforementioned
paragraph nineteen millennial allusions.
Paine’s mention of the Reformation, America as a religious
sanctuary, and the persecuted being forced to flee their homes in Europe was
not, I think, incidental to his overall purpose. As previously discussed, by
the 1770s many of the Thirteen Colonies were populated by the descendants of
exactly those religious refugees that Paine described in, and was now addressing
with the publication of, Common Sense.
The Puritans of New England, the Baptists of Rhode Island, the Quakers of
Pennsylvania and New Jersey, and the Catholics of Maryland were all members of
religious denominations that had been effectively barred from holding
significant political authority under the British Anglican Establishment.
Indeed, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts and Maryland were all originally envisioned
as religious refuges by their founding patrons. The offspring of the original
populations of said colonies continued to be acutely conscious of their origins
in religious persecution well into the 1770s, and this accordingly shaped their
perceptions of what their purpose (some might even say destiny) in America was.
A common manifestation thereof was a belief in eventual validation; that exile
in the New World would eventually lead to the creation of a purer, more
glorious, and more godly society than would have been possible in orthodox
European climes. Paine seemed to have recognized the existence of such
sentiments in his audience, and structured his arguments in favor of
independence so as to tap into their variously manifested sense of persecution,
vindication, and destiny.
Paine referred to the providential nature of America’s
perceived status as a religious refuge again in paragraph twenty-one of section
four of Common Sense. Among the roles
he envisioned a proper government ought to possess he asserted that the only
religious duty a republican regime should undertake was the paramount protection
of freedom of conscience. This state of affairs, he continued, would have been
easier to achieve in America than in other regions of the globe thanks to the
abiding religious diversity of the colonies and their distinctly heterogeneous
populations. Indeed, he wrote, “I fully and conscientiously believe, that it is
the will of the Almighty, that there should be a diversity of religious
opinions among us.” Such diversity, he claimed, “affords a larger field for out
Christian kindness,” and would have provided, unlike in a society united by
single faith, greater opportunity for continued questioning, debate, and
spiritual regeneration. In this instance, as in other already noted, Paine
seemed to quite effectively tap into several strains of religious thought
present among his 18th-century American Protestant audience. The
most obvious is evidenced by his willingness to attribute a manifest
circumstance of life in the colonies – their religious diversity – to the
guiding hand of the Almighty. This, he effectively declared, was not a mere
quirk of history but the direct consequence of God’s ultimate design. His
fellow colonists, it followed, would have done well to embrace their diversity,
and thus embrace the dictates of providence.
By exhorting his American readers to embrace their abiding
religious diversity Paine also appeared to validate their status as refugees
from oppression in Europe. If the American continent was indeed ordained by God
to be a haven for the persecuted, as Paine claimed it was, it then followed
that the communities, be they Quakers, Baptists, Puritans or Catholics, who had
settled therein had not suffered in vain. Indeed, their loss of home, property,
livelihood, and exile in a strange and at-times threatening wilderness were all
a part of God’s age-old plan to create a more perfect human society and thus
hasten the coming of the millennium. This was doubtless an appealing notion to
American Protestants, be they Post-Millennial or Pre-Millennial adherents. The
suffering they and their forbearers had endured was entirely purposeful, and
its eventual reward would be the creation of a new, stronger, more pious social
body that would lead the world into a new age of peace and prosperity. The
method by which this would be accomplished is where Paine looped back to his
overarching thesis.
Persecution and disenfranchisement under the Anglican
Establishment in Britain is what drove countless people in the 17th
and 18th centuries to depart their homes in England, Scotland,
Ireland and Wales and risk their all by settling in what we now recognize as
the Thirteen Colonies. The religious conflict at the heart of this migration
continued to color the relationships between the various colonies and the
British Crown throughout the colonial era, and played a far-from-insignificant
role in nurturing an abiding sense of antipathy between the colonists and their
British cousins in the years leading up to the beginning of the Revolution.
Though the First Great Awakening did a great deal to revitalize American
Protestantism in its various manifestations on an individual level, many
non-Anglican colonists still found themselves living under a political order
that was dominated by the influence of the Anglian Church and its hierarchy. Thomas
Paine, perceptive as he was, recognized this, remarked that America’s religious
diversity was in fact God-ordained, and offered a potential solution for its
inability to be fully and freely expressed. Independence of the colonies from
Britain, for which he had argued from any number of angles, could as well help
bring about an era of religious freedom in America more in keeping with the
manifest will of the Almighty. This, again, could not have but appealed to
American colonists who had been forced to reconcile their faith with that of
the monarch whose sovereignty over them they nominally acknowledged. George III
was, after all, the head of the Anglican Church, and the governors he regularly
appointed to administer the colonies that fell directly under his authority were
of the selfsame faith (lest they be disqualified from holding any office). Yet,
Paine intimated, freedom to worship, to hold public office, or to structure
their governments in a way that did not offend the dignity of their faith was
within the grasp of all Americans. Independence was the thing, and thus the
author of Common Sense strengthened
his argument in its favor.
As I've nearly come to the end of this particular post I’d
like to offer a minor caveat to the image I believe I've painted herein of
Paine using religious diversity as a hook and a prize in his arguments in favor
of independence. I recognize that, looking back, I often included Catholics in
amongst those disenfranchised Christians to whom Paine was attempting to appeal.
I did this because I believe the arguments he put forward did indeed apply to
those few 18th-century American followers of the Roman Catholic Rite
as they did to the much larger number of Congregationalists, Quakers, Baptists,
and various other of what were known in Anglican England as Protestant
Dissenters then living in the American colonies. I would be remiss, however, in
not pointing out that one of the ways Paine appealed to the sympathies of his
mainly Protestant audience was by manifesting a casual disdain of Roman Catholicism.
The sentiment in question is not one which pervades Common Sense from top to bottom, but it
is there. At the end of the ninth paragraph of section two, which if you recall
contains a lengthy meditation on the origins of kingship among the Children of
Israel, Paine concluded that the practice of monarchs withholding information
as to the lack of scriptural basis for their rule made them akin to priests in
“Popish countries.” This was a blatant criticism, as old as the Reformation
itself, aimed at the custom of Catholic priests to act as intermediaries
between their congregation and the text of the Bible. “Monarchy,” Paine thusly
declared, “in every instance is the Popery of government.” Further on, in the
lengthy third section of Common Sense,
Paine argued in the eleventh paragraph that the concept of Britain as the
parent or mother country of the colonies was a fundamentally false one, and had
been “jesuitically adopted by the king and his parasites, with a low papistical
design of gaining an unfair bias on the credulous weakness of our minds.” This
again demonstrates Paine’s willingness to harness the antipathy felt among
Protestants of just about any stripe for the Roman Catholic Church and its
reputation for power-brokering and cynical manipulation.
In addition to demonstrating how far Paine was willing to go to adopt a tone of pious
Protestantism with Common Sense, to
the point of appearing to prey upon the faith’s accustomed theological
adversary, his use of anti-Catholic slurs helped to set his rhetoric apart from
that of his more self-consciously academic contemporaries. By and large, as I
hope I've managed to get across, the Founding Fathers were a religiously
diverse and generally quite tolerant group. Freedom of conscience is what they
advocated, evidenced by their words as well as the fact that they included a
prominent Maryland Catholic, Charles Carrol of Carrolton, among their number. Paine,
as his later work indicates, was of this opinion as well, or at the very least
was not one to celebrate or denigrate any one particular religious faith. The
majority of the citizens of the American colonies, however, were somewhat less
diffident. However much they and their forefathers had suffered under the
overbearing hegemony of the Anglican Establishment, it had been hammered into
them by generations of Protestant preachers, educators, and political leaders
that Catholicism was the unequivocal enemy. It was the religion of France and
Spain, their ancestral enemies; a faith outwardly defined by a meddlesome Pope,
grasping Cardinals, rigid hierarchy, unquestioning deference, and dogmatic
narrow-mindedness. In many ways Roman Catholicism was to the average 18th-century
Protestant what Islam is to the modern citizen of the Western world; a
mysterious, vaguely threatening, and rigidly traditionalist faith whose
adherents cannot be reasoned with. Though the 18th-century
Protestant perception of Catholics was often as shallow and misguided as modern
misconceptions surrounding Muslims in the West, such emotional biases lent
themselves to skilled rhetorical manipulation. This, Thomas Paine knew and
this, Thomas Paine attempted; to what degree of success is a matter of
speculation.
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