the methods he proposes, are accordant with reason—are illustrated and supported with "self-evident truths"—they are plainly "beside themselves." They have lost the use of reason. They are not to be argued with. They belong to the mad-house.

"COME NOW, LET US REASON TOGETHER, SAITH THE LORD."

Are we to honor the Bible, which Professor Stuart quaintly calls "the good old book," by turning away from "self-evident truths" to receive its instructions? Can these truths be contradicted or denied there? Do we search for something there to obscure their clearness, or break their force, or reduce their authority? Do we long to find something there, in the form of premises or conclusions, of arguing or of inference, in broad statement or blind hints, creed-wise or fact-wise, which may set us free from the light and power of first principles? And what if we were to discover what we were thus in search of?—something directly or indirectly, expressly or impliedly prejudicial to the principles, which reason, placing us under the authority of, makes self-evident? In what estimation, in that case, should we be constrained to hold the Bible? Could we longer honor it as the book of God? The book of God opposed to the authority of REASON! Why, before what tribunal do we dispose of the claims of the sacred volume to divine authority? The tribunal of reason. This every one acknowledges the moment he begins to reason on the subject. And what must reason do with a book, which reduces the authority of its own principles—breaks the force of self-evident truths? Is he not, by way of eminence, the apostle of infidelity, who, as a minister of the gospel or a professor of sacred literature, exerts himself, with whatever arts of ingenuity or show of piety, to exalt the Bible at the expense of reason? Let such arts succeed and such piety prevail, and Jesus Christ is "crucified afresh and put to an open shame."

What saith the Princeton professor? Why, in spite of "general principles," and "clear as we may think the arguments against DESPOTISM, there have been thousands of ENLIGHTENED and good men, who honestly believe it to be of all forms of government the best and most acceptable to God."[13] Now these "good men" must have been thus warmly in favor of despotism, in consequence of, or in opposition to, their being "enlightened." In other words, the light, which in such abundance they enjoyed, conducted them to the position in favor of despotism, where the Princeton professor so heartily shook hands with them, or they must have forced their way there in despite of its hallowed influence. Either in accordance with, or in resistance to the light, they became what he found them—the advocates of despotism. If in resistance to the light—and he says they were "enlightened men"—what, so far as the subject with which alone he and we are now concerned, becomes of their "honesty" and "goodness?" Good and honest resisters of the light, which was freely poured around them! Of such, what says Professor Stuart's "good old Book?" Their authority, where "general principles" command the least respect, must be small indeed. But if in accordance with the light, they have become the advocates of despotism, then is despotism "the best form of government and most acceptable to God." It is sustained by the authority of reason, by the word of Jehovah, by the will of Heaven! If this be the doctrine which prevails at certain theological seminaries, it must be easy to account for the spirit which they breathe, and the general influence which they exert. Why did not the Princeton professor place this "general principle" as a shield, heaven-wrought and reason approved, over that cherished form of despotism which prevails among the churches of the South, and leave the "peculiar institutions" he is so forward to defend, under its protection?

[Footnote 13: Pittsburg pamphlet, p. 12.]

What is the "general principle" to which, whatever may become of despotism, with its "honest" admirers and "enlightened" supporters, human governments should be universally and carefully adjusted? Clearly this—that as capable of, man is entitled to, self government. And this is a specific form of a still more general principle, which may well be pronounced self-evident—that every thing should be treated according to its nature. The mind that can doubt this, must be incapable of rational conviction. Man, then,—it is the dictate of reason, it is the voice of Jehovah—must be treated as a man. What is he? What are his distinctive attributes? The Creator impressed his own image on him. In this were found the grand peculiarities of his character. Here shone his glory. Here REASON manifests its laws. Here the WILL puts forth its volitions. Here is the crown of IMMORTALITY. Why such endowments? Thus furnished—the image of Jehovah—is he not capable of self-government? And is he not to be so treated? Within the sphere where the laws of reason place him, may he not act according to his choice—carry out his own volitions?—may he not enjoy life, exult in freedom, and pursue as he will the path of blessedness? If not, why was he so created and endowed? Why the mysterious, awful attribute of will? To be a source, profound as the depths of hell, of exquisite misery, of keen anguish, of insufferable torment! Was man, formed "according to the image of Jehovah," to be crossed, thwarted, counteracted; to be forced in upon himself; to be the sport of endless contradictions; to be driven back and forth forever between mutually repellant forces; and all, all "at the discretion of another!"[14] How can man be treated according to his nature, as endowed with reason or will, if excluded from the powers and privileges of self-government?—if "despotism" be let loose upon him, to "deprive him of personal liberty, oblige him to serve at the discretion of another" and with the power of "transferring" such "authority" over him and such claim upon him, to "another master?" If "thousands of enlightened and good men" can so easily be found, who are forward to support "despotism" as "of all governments the best and most acceptable to God," we need not wonder at the testimony of universal history, that "the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now." Groans and travail pangs must continue to be the order of the day throughout "the whole creation," till the rod of despotism be broken, and man be treated as man—as capable of, and entitled to, self-government.

[Footnote 14: Pittsburg pamphlet, p. 12.]

But what is the despotism whose horrid features our smooth professor tries to hide beneath an array of cunningly selected words and nicely-adjusted sentences? It is the despotism of American slavery—which crushes the very life of humanity out of its victims, and transforms them to cattle! At its touch, they sink from men to things! "Slaves," saith Professor Stuart, "were property in Greece and Rome. That decides all questions about their relation." Yes, truly. And slaves in republican America are property; and as that easily, clearly, and definitely settles "all questions about their relation," why should the Princeton professor have put himself to the trouble of weaving a definition equally ingenious and inadequate—at once subtle and