I come next to patriotism as a moral force. We are apt to take it for granted that it always exists in every country; but this is not so, as the earlier wars of the French Revolution most plainly prove. Nor is it sufficient to say that the countries over which the French armies rode rough-shod were autocratically governed, while France enjoyed a freer form of government, for a democracy can, and very frequently does, govern quite as abominably as any autocrat or oligarchy. If a large proportion of a community be discontented with its condition it will feel no patriotism, and will do little or nothing towards defence of its country. It sees no object in fighting to maintain a state of things which it disapproves, and will not do so. Then, in case of invasion it will submit quietly and without an effort to the enemy's will, and allow him to take peaceful possession of its territory. If, on the contrary, the war be not defensive but offensive, the malcontents will lay themselves out to embarrass the ruling authorities as much as possible, in order to secure political changes which they conceive to be political advantages. So long as the seat of operations is at a distance, the behaviour of the malcontents is always the same, whether they are of the highest or of the lowest class, whether the government under which they live be popular or despotic. Thus during the American War of Independence a considerable section of the English aristocracy threw the whole weight of its power and influence in favour of the revolting colonies, and to all intents assured their triumph. Thus also in the recent war between Russia and Japan a large section of the educated classes in Russia spared no efforts to stir up internal trouble, and crippled their country at the very moment when she bade fair to redeem all past failures and enter upon a successful campaign. In both cases the disaffected parties claimed to be the truest patriots, inasmuch as they had acted in the best interests of their country; though whether such a claim can be justified is a matter upon which men will differ until the end of time. It may, however, be doubted whether men can, unless in most exceptional circumstances, benefit their country by seconding their country's enemies; and it is probable that, when they profess to do so, they are animated rather by an intense desire to injure and humiliate their rulers than by any principle of well-doing towards any one. If the war were brought home to their own hearths, they would in all likelihood make a stubborn fight for their defence; either from dread lest their neighbours should hang them; or, as it is more reasonable to suppose, from honest jealousy for their country and indignation against the invader. But because the scene of fighting is at a distance, they think that they may legitimately play fast and loose with their country's fortunes.