That Dr. Rittenhouse was a zealous advocate for the liberties of mankind, is unquestionable: but, much as he abhorred slavery and oppression of every kind, did he deprecate turbulence and licentiousness in the people, and wars of ambition, avarice or injustice, undertaken by their rulers. He was decidedly friendly to those measures of civil government, which are best calculated to maintain order, tranquillity, and safety in the state, on just and honourable principles. It can scarcely be doubted by any one, intimately acquainted with his character, that he must have concurred in sentiments similar to those attributed by the biographer of Washington to that great man, or this subject,—in the following observation: “Between a balanced republic and a democracy the difference is like that between order and chaos. Real liberty, he thought, was to be secured only by preserving the authority of the laws, and maintaining the energy of government. Scarcely did society present two characters which, in his opinion, less resembled each other, than a patriot and a demagogue.” Mr. Rittenhouse, it must be rationally supposed, was less acquainted with mankind, than General Washington was known to be: he had much fewer and more limited opportunities of studying human nature; and professions of pretended patriots were, therefore, more likely to impose on the unsuspecting honesty of his nature. He may even have been deceived, for a while, and ere the plausible fallacies of theorists in matters of civil polity, emanating from the philosophy of the French school, had yet been manifested to the world. A practical philosopher himself, he must have contemplated with pity, if not with indignation, the doctrines of the followers of Pyrrho: with whom it was a fundamental principle, that there is nothing that can be denominated true or false, right or wrong, honest or dishonest, just or unjust; or, in other words, that there is no standard beyond law or custom; and that uncertainty and doubt are attached to all things. Nevertheless, on these doctrines of the sceptical philosophers of antiquity are founded that monstrous and wicked tenet of most of the modern sceptics, that _the end justifies the means_!—a principle destructive of all the foundations of religion and morals. Well might the Abbé le Blanc exclaim, when noticing this mischievous sect of philosophers, seventy years ago,—“Is it not surprising, that men should endeavour to acquire the esteem of the public, by striving to break the most sacred band of all societies; in declaring their opinion to others, that there is neither virtue nor vice, truth nor doubt.”—“Our modern philosophers,”[280] says the learned Abbé in another place, “have been _too confident_.” ----- Footnote 280: