and brotherhood of Greece, because his city between the two Sicilian havens was a commonwealth as free and independent as the elder city between the two Peloponnesian gulfs? True, the man of Carthage, the man of Syracuse, had, unlike the man of Virginia or Massachusetts, no yoke of the motherland to cast aside; but surely the man of Virginia or Massachusetts was, if anything, less English when he knew dependence, when he had to obey the decrees of an assembly in whose choice he had no part, than he became when he rose to the full age and stature of an Englishman by winning those full rights of freedom which Carthage and Syracuse had from the beginning. We have so strangely passed away from the political conceptions of earlier ages, that the word _colony_ is held to imply dependence. In the old Thirteen lands of America we hear of the colonial period as meaning the time of imperfect freedom; when full freedom is won, the name of colony is cast away. And yet surely a colony of England was not meant to be a mere Roman _colonia_, a mere Athenian κληρουχία, a garrison to hold down a subject province; it was surely meant to be, like a Greek ἀποικία, a new home of English life and English speech. In that nobler sense of the word, a colony which is not independent has not risen to the full rank of a colony; it is hardly a home for the new folk of the mother-land; it is little more than an outpost of its dominion. Surely the Englishmen of those Thirteen lands, who had unhappily to fight their way to the full rights of Englishmen, did not cease to be Englishmen, to be colonists of England, because they won them. Surely--I have said it already and I may have to say it again--they became in a higher and truer sense colonies of the English folk because they had ceased to be dependencies of the British Crown.