that other races have had a hand in creating
"God's own country," and they are happiest when they can convince
themselves that a man changes his heart and his mind as well as his sky
when he leaves Europe for America. And so they pursue the policy of the
ostrich. They bury the head of their past in the sandy desert of
the present, and hope that nobody will detect the trick of their
concealment.

In the Church of St John at Portsmouth there is, as I have said, an
English prayer-book from which the page containing prayers for the
king has been violently torn. This incident symbolises very aptly
the attitude of America. The country has not yet recovered from the
hostility which it once professed to George III. It assumes that a
difference of policy always implies a moral taint. The American Colonies
broke away from the mother country; therefore George III. was a knave,
whose name may not be mentioned without dishonour, and all the brave men
who served him in serving the colonies are dishonoured also. It is not
quite clear why this feeling has been kept alive so long. Perhaps
the violent rhetoric of the Declaration of Independence has aided its
survival. Perhaps, too, the sense of gravity, which always overtakes the
American public man when he considers what These States have achieved,
is not without its weight. But whatever the cause, it is certain that
shame and animosity still exist on the other side of the ocean: shame
for noble deeds accomplished by brave men; animosity against a loyal
antagonist, who long ago forgot the ancient quarrel and its consequence.

And yet the force and habit of tradition cannot forcibly be shaken off.
Though New England, in forgetting the heroes who fought under British
colours, has attempted to break the continuity of history, it is in New
England where the links in the ancient chain are most stoutly coupled.
Though all the prayer-books in the world be destroyed, the marks of its
origin will still be stamped indelibly upon the face of the country. The
very dourness which persuades these stern men to look with regret upon
their beginnings is but a part of the puritanical character which drove
them to take refuge in a foreign land. Stiff-necked and fanatical as
they were, when they left England, they did but intensify their hard
fanaticism in the new land. For there they were all of one party, and
their children grew up without the wholesome stimulant of opposition.
And if perchance one or