With a single exception, all that he says on this topic is expressed with masterly force and completeness.  But when we come to the application of it, the matter assumes another face.  Men of sense may, and do, differ as to what is a compromise, or, agreeing in that, they may differ again as to whether it be expedient.  For example, if a man, having taken another’s cloak, insist on taking his coat also, the denudee, though he might congratulate himself on having been set forward so far on his way toward the natural man of Rousseau, would hardly call the affair a compromise on the part of the denuder.  Or again, if his brother with principles should offer to compromise about the coat by taking only half of it, he would be in considerable doubt whether the arrangement were expedient.  Now there are many honest people, not as eloquent as Mr. Choate, not as scholarly, and perhaps not more illogical, who firmly believe that our compromises on the question of Slavery have afforded examples of both the species above described.  It is not unnatural, therefore, that, while they assent to his general theory, they should protest against his mode of applying it to particulars.  They may be incapable of a generalization, (they certainly are, if this be Mr. Choate’s notion of one,) but they are incapable also of a deliberate fallacy.  We think we find here one of the cases in which his training as an advocate has been of evil effect on his fairness of mind.  No more potent lie can be made than of the ashes of truth.  A fallacy is dangerous because of the half-truth in it.  Swallow a strong dose of pure poison, and the stomach may reject it; but take half as much, mixed with innocent water, and it will do you a mischief.  But Mr. Choate is nothing, if not illogical:  recognizing the manifest hand of God in the affairs of the world, he would leave the question of Slavery with Him.  Now we offer Mr. Choate a dilemma:  either God always interferes, or sometimes:  if always, why need Mr. Choate meddle? why not leave it to Him to avert the dangers of Anti-slavery, as well as to remedy the evils of Slavery?—­if only sometimes, (nec deus intersit nisi dignus vindice nodus,) who is to decide when the time for human effort has come?  Each man for himself, or Mr. Choate for all?

Let us try Mr. Choate’s style of reasoning against himself.  He says, “One may know Aristophanes and Geography and the Cosmical Unity and Telluric Influences,” (why didn’t he add, “Neptune, Plutarch, and Nicodemus"!) “and the smaller morals of life, and the sounding pretensions of philanthropy,” (this last, at any rate, is useful knowledge,) “and yet not know America.”  We must confess, that we do not see why on earth he should.  In fact, by the time he had got to the “Telluric Influences,” (whatever they are,) we should think he might consider his education completed, and his head would even then be as great a wonder as that of the schoolmaster in the “Deserted