ciples; both historical facts, as stern and stubborn as they are sublime. But as Mr. Douglas had no logic to guide him in his theories, so he had no conscience to restrain him in his historical constructions. To interpret the Declaration of Independence according to the evident meaning of its words would certainly displease the South; to call it “a self-evident lie” would certainly shock the moral sensibilities of the North. So he recognizes it as a venerable document, but makes the language, which is so dear to the hearts of the North, express a meaning which coincides with the ideas of the South.
We have appreciated his exploits as a logician; let us follow him in his historical discoveries.
Let your imagination carry you back to the year 1776. You stand in the hall of the old Colonial Court-house of Philadelphia. Through the open door you see the Continental Congress assembled; the moment of a great decision is drawing near. Look at the earnest faces of the men assembled there, and consider what you may expect of them. The philosophy of the eighteenth century counts many of them among its truest adepts. They heartily welcomed in their scattered towns and plantations the new ideas brought forth by that sudden progress of humanity, and, meditating them in the dreamy solitude of virgin nature, they had enlarged the compass of their thoughts and peopled their imaginations with lofty ideals. A classical education (for most of them are by no means illiterate men) has put all the treasures of historical knowledge at their disposal, and enabled them to apply the experience of past centuries to the new problem they attempt to solve. See others there of a simple but strong cast of mind, whom common sense would call its truest representatives. Wont to grapple with the dangers and difficulties of an early settler's life, or, if inhabitants of young uprising cities, wont
