high moral ground which the most paternal and beneficial government occupies when it defends the natural and inalienable rights of its citizens.
The real question was this: Who may of right govern the North American colonies? the colonists themselves, or the Parliament of Great Britain? In the colonies there was no difference of opinion upon this point, though there was some as to the mode of securing its exercise. If, then, the right of self-government were in the colonists, did they use all proper means of securing its exercise previous to a resort to arms? They spent ten years in the work of petition, remonstrance and expostulation—and those ten years of experience convinced the people that the policy of the British Ministry and Parliament was fixed and irreversible; that there was only resistance to the execution of this policy on the one hand, and submission, which must end in abject slavery, on the other. If the American Revolution be morally indefensible, then not only are all wars indefensible, but all human governments, the wisest and the best, equally so.
The sentiment of the Revolution was altogether moral. There was an entire absence of the spirit of revenge, or rapine, or blood. They never for a moment placed as much reliance upon their numbers and strength as upon the justice of their cause and the existence of a Supreme Ruler, who controls the affairs of men. Such was the tone of the press, the pulpit and the bar. Everywhere the morality of the contest was examined and the ground carefully tested at each step. Not by leading men only, but by all those who had a vote to give in a town meeting or an arm to sustain the weapons of war. They were no zealots, like the crusaders; but plain, careful men, of sound moral perception and correct judgment. It is true that they were descendants of those who rejoiced when Charles the First was beheaded and James the Second was dethroned. This feeling, however, had no mixture of cruelty
