staunchest supporters failed. The Revolution,
like all revolutions, brought out all the bad as well
as all the good in human nature. Bad laws always
deteriorate a people; they breed a contempt for law
which coercion only aggravates, and which survives
the establishment of good laws. As I have already
indicated, the dislike and the systematic evasion
by smuggling of the trade laws during the long period
when the revolt was incubating harmed American character,
and probably sowed the seed of future corruption and
dissension. However true that may be, it is certainly
true that the American rebels showed no more heroism
or self-sacrifice than the average Englishman or Irishman
in any other part of the world might have been expected
to show under similar conditions. Historians
and politicians, to whom legal authority always seems
sacrosanct and agitation against it a popular vice,
who mistake cause and effect so far as to derive freedom
from character, instead of character from freedom,
can make, and have made, the conventional case against
Home Rule for the Americans as plausibly as the same
case has, at various times, been made against Home
Rule for Canada, South Africa, and Ireland. Since
all white men are fundamentally alike in their faults
as well as in their virtues, there is always abundant
material for an indictment on the ground of bad character.
The Americans of the revolutionary war, together with
much fortitude, integrity, and public spirit, showed
without doubt a good deal of levity, self-seeking,
vindictiveness, and incompetence; and whoever chooses
to amass, magnify, and isolate evidences of their
guilt can demonstrate their unfitness for self-government
just as well as he can demonstrate the same proposition
in the case of Ireland. Mr. J.W. Fortescue,
the learned and entertaining historian of the British
Army, has done the former task as well as it can be
done. He denounces the whole Colony of Massachusetts—men
of his own national stock—as the pestilent
offspring of an “irreconcilable faction,”
which had originally left England deeply imbued with
the doctrines of Republicanism. Having gained,
and by lying and subterfuge retained, some measure
of independence, they sank from depth to depth of
meanness and turpitude. They struggled for no
high principle, and refused to be taxed from England,
simply because they were too contemptibly stingy and
unpatriotic to pay a shilling a head towards the maintenance
of the Imperial Army. It is always the “mob,”
the “ruffians,” the “rabble,”
of Boston who carry out the reprisals against the
royal coercion, and, like the Irish peasants of the
nineteenth century, they are always the half-blind,
half-criminal tools of unscrupulous “agitators.”
It has been, and remains, an obsession with the partisans
of law over liberty all the world over that the fettered
community, wherever it may be and however composed,
does not really want liberty, but that the majority
of its sober citizens are dragged into an artificial