Whatever may have been the incentives to rebellion, yielded to by those who revolted, there cannot rest upon the mind of the honest reader of unbiassed history a doubt as to the motives of the loyalists. The home-spun eulogists of the United States revolutionary soldiers have never ceased to dwell upon the principles which fired the breasts of the patriots, and nerved their arms to deeds of daring and successful warfare; all the time observing silence respecting the bravery of those who, from the same walks of life, engaged in the strife as the determined antagonists to rebellion. They have again and again charged upon the “king’s men” that it was because they were servants of the Crown and feeders at the government stall that loyalty was assumed and fought for. But facts, when allowed to stand out uncovered by the cant of liberatists, declare, in words that may not be gainsayed, that there were a vast number who held no appointment under the Crown, yet who, from first to last, were true—naturally true—to their king and country. The great mass were essentially conservatives, called “tories.” They held the opinion that to rebel was not only unnecessary but wrong. They believed that the evils of which the colonists had just reason to complain were not so great as to justify the extreme step taken by the signers of the Declaration of Independence; that any injustice existing was but temporary and would, when properly and calmly represented to the home government, be remedied; that to convulse the colonies in war was an unjustifiably harsh procedure; and, entertaining such a belief, it is submitted that they were noble indeed in standing up for peace—for more moderate measures. Moreover, not unlikely, many were impressed with the view that the disaffected were laboring under an erroneous idea of oppression; that the training incident to pioneer life, the previous wars with the French Canadians, the constant contentions with the Indians, had begotten false views of their rights, and made them too quick to discover supposed wrongs. Candidly impressed with such thoughts, they could not be otherwise than true to the natural instincts of their heart, and refuse to take part, or acquiesce in throwing overboard the government of England, and so become aliens to the flag under which they were born and had lived, and for which they had fought. Not many may cast aside their feelings of nationality; not many can forget the land of their birth; not a large number will bury the associations of a life-time without the most potent causes. And, doubtless, the Anglo-American who faithfully adhered to the old flag possessed all the ardor of a lofty patriotism. But the American writer has forgotten all this. In the broad sunlight of national success he has not discovered the sacred longings of the U. E. Loyalists for the Union Jack. Looking at the events of ‘76 by the lurid glare of civil war, his