only to provide for ourselves but also to relieve the indigence of others; and permit us in practice, abstaining from every form of labor, to enrich and aggrandize ourselves with the fruits of man-stealing?  Does he require us in principle to regard “the laborer as worthy of his hire”; and permit us in practice to defraud him of his wages?  Does he require us in principle to honor ALL men; and permit us in practice to treat multitudes like cattle?  Does he in principle prohibit “respect of persons;” and permit us in practice to place the feet of the rich upon the necks of the poor?  Does he in principle require us to sympathize with the bondman as another self; and permit us in practice to leave him unpitied and unhelped in the hands of the oppressor? In principle, “where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty;” in practice, is slavery the fruit of the Spirit? In principle, Christianity is the law of liberty; in practice, it is the law of slavery?  Bring practice in these various respects into harmony with principle, and what becomes of slavery?  And if, where the divine government is concerned, practice is the expression of principle, and principle the standard and interpreter of practice, such harmony cannot but be maintained and must be asserted.  In studying, therefore, fragments of history and sketches of biography—­in disposing of references to institutions, usages, and facts in the New Testament, this necessary harmony between principle and practice in the government of God, should be continually present to the thoughts of the interpreter.  Principles assert what practice must be.  Whatever principle condemns, God condemns.  It belongs to those weeds of the dung-hill which, planted by “an enemy,” his hand will assuredly “root up.”  It is most certain then, that if slavery prevailed in the first ages of Christianity, it could nowhere have prevailed under its influence and with its sanction.

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The condition in which in its efforts to bless mankind, the primitive church was placed, must have greatly assisted the early Christians in understanding and applying the principles of the gospel.  Their Master was born in great obscurity, lived in the deepest poverty, and died the most ignominious death.  The place of his residence, his familiarity with the outcasts of society, his welcoming assistance and support from female hands, his casting his beloved mother, when he hung upon the cross, upon the charity of a disciple—­such things evince the depth of his poverty, and show to what derision and contempt he must have been exposed.  Could such an one, “despised and rejected of men—­a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief,” play the oppressor, or smile on those who made merchandize of the poor!