CHAPTER V.

A Literary Party.—The American Press.—Character of Editors—their Rise and Progress.—Influence of Advertisements.—Old and New Federalists.—Mode of operating on the People.

“A field of glory is a field for all.”

Pope’sDunciad.

I passed an evening at the house of a genuine specimen of a Yankee,—at a sort of literary party, to which nearly the whole Boston tribe of the quill were invited; the master of the house being well able to act as president. My Boston friends, on reading this, will imagine I refer to a gentleman in B***-street; but I can assure them that they are mistaken. I do not mean a man who has at once been promoted to the rank of king of literature, master of the pamphlet and magazine writers of New England, by his wealth and the agreeable manners he acquired in Europe; but a hard-working man, who served his apprenticeship in a printer’s shop, and by dint of perseverance and talent became one of the mostpowerful organs of public opinion, and a correct English writer. His politics were, from the beginning, those of the Federal school, but honest; his style clear and flowing, his arguments logical and to the point; and he possessed a fund of wit and humour to season the productions of his pen. In his younger days he submitted himself to the arduous and unprofitable task of exposing some of the most glaring follies of his countrymen; for which, though he became in an eminent degree a public benefactor, he was frequently sued for libel, and condemned to heavy fines. Notwithstanding these reverses he had prospered, and become the father of a large family, most of the members of which were distinguished for great ability.

On this occasion he had convened his friends and acquaintances in order to communicate to them his resolution to add a new monthly periodical to the list of those already in existence, and to ask their contribution to so laudable an undertaking. He also told them that for one year at least he was ready to continue it at a loss, remunerating liberally the best papers on politics andbelles lettres, to which he proposed to direct his principal attention.

The proposition was received with enthusiasmby the whole company. They agreed unanimously that such an undertaking was highly patriotic, and that the time being was particularly propitious to an undertaking of that sort; that the condition of the country, and the progress of literature and science in the United States, “loudly call for such a periodical,” &c.; and, as a mark of their sincerity, pledged their entertainer in a bumper of hock, which seemed to augur favourably for their taste and judgment.

While they were thus engaged in expressing their sympathy with literature and the arts, I had an opportunity of observing their countenances, which partook of the usual shrewdness of New-Englanders, but were otherwise far from being remarkable or striking. Fortunately for my democratic sentiments, they were all representatives of the Whig or American Tory press; though some of theEnglisheditors of that denomination would not, perhaps, feel flattered by this extension of the fraternity.

What was most interesting to me was, the little case which prevailed amongst them; none seeming to know his true position. They approached each other with great caution, as if they dreaded each other’s malice. I am sure they did not venture a single expression which they would nothave liked to see in print. In addition to this, they watched each other’s motions, and the greater or less degree of intimacy which existed between their entertainer and his invited colleagues; in short, they wanted nothing but tact and manners to pass for a tolerable body of diplomatists at a provincial court in Germany.

I could not help making some reflections on those poor mortals, who, like other players, “fretted their hour upon the stage;” though theirpartswere not many, and the play but too often not worth the candle. I believe I am not altogether wrong in asserting that the American daily press, though its influence on national politics is prodigious, is nevertheless in its composition, character, and moral force, scarcely to be compared to the mass of talent employed in this branch of literature in Europe.

There is scarcely a paper in any of the large cities of the United States which has a decided political character—advocating some great historical principle, and employing in its warfare other weapons than common-place dialectics, and constant appeals to the passions of its subscribers. The effect produced by the American papers is due to their number; there being not one of them which can boast of a subscription sufficiently largeto make it a true representative of public opinion. Their power is owing to combination. No great central institution has as yet taken the lead; but they have a wonderful faculty in communicating each other’s ideas, either by direct quotations or by dressing up the same thought in a variety of manners. An American paper, in fact, is said to be editedwith great talentwhen it contains in each number from half a column to a column of original matter: the rest consists of extracts and advertisements. The latter constitute the pecuniary resources of an editor; the subscriptions being so low that, unless a “fair advertising patronage” can be obtained, little profit or absolute loss must necessarily attend the publication.

From this single circumstance the leading character of American newspapers may at once be inferred. The commercial part of the community advertise the most,—their interests, therefore, are sure to be advocated; while those principles which refer to the higher branches of statesmanship or political economy are rarely made the subject of newspaper controversy, except perhaps in the Southern States. The Southerners are the only people in the Union who study politics as a science, having both the education andleisure for that purpose. The Southern papers, therefore, are, on an average, much better edited than those of the North; though from their higher standard, and the peculiar composition of Southern society, they have comparatively a small number of readers.

The practical men at the North call the Southerners, and especially the Virginians, “Meta-physical politicians,” in contradistinction to those whose immediate object is the increase of trade and traffic. The Northern papers advocate each onlya particular partof a political system: one, a bank of fifty millions; another, one of forty millions; one, a bank in New York; another, one in Philadelphia, &c. just as it suits the convenience of their subscribers. It is not the press which leads the public,—it is the public which leads the press. What is likely to succeed—that principle which promises to become popular, which gratifies the peculiarpenchantof the leading portion of the public, is sure to be maintained, if not with spirit, at least with great obstinacy; but a great truth, which is not yet universally received, which meets with a strong opposition from wealth and prejudice, which is calculated to benefit future generations and not the present one, often pleads in vain for a single enunciationin a daily print. The proverb, “Point d’argent, point de Suisses,” applies as much to the gentlemen of the press as to the hired soldiers of Helvetia; with this difference only, that, once engaged in fight, they do not always defend their masters with the same unalterable faith and courage.

The fact is, a truth which clashes with the interests of a certain portion of society is seldom introduced by men not entirely independent in their circumstances; and for this reason a powerful aristocracy, or an absolute monarchy, has often done more for the emancipation of a people than could have been effected by the variously-directed efforts of the wealthy middle classes. The history of all countries up to the present day furnishes ample proofs of this assertion, and the state of America itself forms no exception to the rule.

The Southern planters, who, not without cause, are reproached with aristocratic principles and sentiments, are nevertheless the stronghold of American liberty, without which the variety of commercial, manufacturing, and agricultural interests would soon produce a conflict of principles, which would ultimately endanger the Union. The very opposition to the Southern interestsobliges the higher classes of the North to live in peace with the inferior orders.

The industrious labourer at the North has no better ally than the Southern planter, who, from his position, is more independent, more generous, and better able to protect him against the rich monopolist than theroturier, who is his competitor. From the South emanated all the democratic measures, together with the doctrine of the sovereignty of the people as it is now understood, in the United States. Southern statesmen advocated the rights of the poor; and broke down the monopoly of trade and manufactures, which threatened to enrich one class of citizens at the expense of all the rest.

There is a species of republicanism which may assume all the odious features of aristocracy; and there is an aristocracy, in the true sense of the word, which may act as a stimulus to liberty and national honour. If there be one truth which the history of modern times has proved beyond the possibility of a doubt, it is this,—that the wealthybourgeoisie, where it succeeded in obtaining power, has been a ruder tyrant of the lower classes than the hereditary nobility whom it deprived of their political influence. As my friend truly observed,—the more nearly an aristocracy is allied to the people, themore intolerable are its presumptions; the less are these qualities redeemed by refinement, education, and that peculiar sense of honour which, even at the worst stage of corruption, seldom entirely quits those descended from a long line of ancestors. If Michel Chevalier is right in believing that the nature of man is too corrupt to be governed by a pure democracy, then I would, with my Boston cicerone, prefer at once an aristocracy of family andhereditaryproperty, with chivalrous notions of honour and justice, to a cold, calculating preponderance of moneyed men, which, though it may to a certain extent stimulate enterprise and industry, establishes nevertheless a meannumericalscale of worth, the most distressing of all to the lofty aspirations of high-minded men.

The aristocraticsuper-positionof society, as it exists in Europe and in the Southern States of America, has far less tendency to circumscribe the liberty of the people[11]than the democraticjuxta-positionof different ranks and fortunes, with an incessantstrugglefor individual distinction. In short, I prefer the white-gloved democrat of the South, with hisaristocraticbearing, to the ungloved aristocrat of the North, with his republican humility,and his cravings after popularity and power.

“Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here and Green,Observed his courtship to the common people,—How he did seem to dive into their heartsWith humble and familiar courtesy;—What reverence he did throw away on slaves,Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles,And patient underbearing of his fortune,As ’twere to banish their effects with him.Off goes his bonnet to an oyster wench;A brace of draymen bid—God speed him well!And has the tribute of his supple kneeWith ‘Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends!’”

As I was thus pondering on the relative merits of the North and South, I observed a gentleman whom I had once met in a stage-coach talking to the master of the house in a manner from which it was easy to infer thatIformed the subject of their conversation. Shortly after he rushed up to me, and, seizing both my hands,

“Don’t you remember me?” exclaimed he; “we travelled together in the same coach from Baltimore to Washington.”

I was glad to find some one to converse with freely, without being every third word stopped by such phrases as these: “Why, sir! I don’t exactly know;” “I sometimes think;” “I am half inclined to suppose;” “I rather guess;” “Ishouldswan,” (for, “I should swear,”) &c.; or cross-examined as to my intentions, views, inclinations, tastes, and habits, which I knew would be considered as absurd if they did not entirely correspond with the stereotype patterns of the leading moralists of the city. During my stay in Boston I have often felt gratified with the attention shown me by many of its inhabitants; and there are, perhaps, few cities which, in proportion to their population, can boast of so large a number of educated men and women: but I cannot refrain from alluding to the want of moral independence, not only in their private and public acts, but also in theirconversation. I communicated these thoughts to the Carolinian, who, seizing both my hands, exclaimed,

“You have spoken my very heart. I could live twenty years in this city without feeling myself at home in it. There is a degree of ceremoniousness, watchfulness, and prudence, even in the hospitality of these people, which destroys that familiar conviviality to which we are accustomed at the South. The same holds of the women. There is a certain severity—une rigueur poussée trop loin—about the loveliest faces in New England, which acts as a disenchanter on enthusiasm. You gaze, you admire, you respect; but you arealmostafraidto love; such a distance does there seem between yourself and the object of your fancy.”

From these topics our conversation turned on literature and the representatives of the press.

“Our editors,” said he, “think themselves competent for the solution of every question, whether it refer to politics or poetry, to the settlement of the Western country or to Greek and Roman archæology. Once armed with a quill, they care not whom they meet in the arena. Fortunately it is their practice to praise indiscriminately every book, pamphlet, or poem, of which a copy is sent them ‘for notice;’ except when the author attacks their favourite doctrines, or pretends to be wiser than themselves. In such cases they exhibit anesprit du corps, and woe to the unfortunate offender that provokes a power so formidable! Not only will judgment be pronounced on himeditorially; but also in an infinite number ofanonymousarticles, furnished by the legion of literary twaddles which surround our ‘independent press,’ and claim the occasional insertion of a squib as abonusfor the amount of their annual subscription. This species of assassination is considered perfectly lawful, and is practised by lawyers, physicians, clergymen, merchants,manufacturers, and tradespeople of all sorts. Whoever subscribes to a paper considers himselfthe editor’s patron, and obliges the latter to give publicity to his dull lucubrations.

“An editor, in order to reject these voluntary contributions, must be very independent in his circumstances, or possess a fund of wit and sarcasm to make people afraid of him, as is, for instance, the case with our entertainer; but by far the majority are glad to avail themselves of these opportunities of filling their columns without personal exertion or trouble. You know how the democratic tendency of Cooper’s novels was treated in our prints; how the youths of our colleges, and the clerks of our dry-goods-men, exerted themselves to the utmost to counteract their pernicious tendency.”[12]

“I do not remember many of those newspaper squibs,” said I; “but I think Cooper showed very little taste or good sense in answering them at large in ‘A Letter to my Countrymen.’”

“And in republishing that letter in England,” added the Carolinian; “making the Englishpublic judge between himself and the American people.”

“And yet, what remedy has an American author in such a case, except to appeal from a small and prejudiced public to a large and liberal one?”

“I do not think,” rejoined the Carolinian, “the English public is much more liberal than our own. But, then, in England every man sticks to his trade, so that the criticism of the periodical press, and even of the daily papers, proceed at least from persons competent to judge, and who have made literature their principal occupation in life. If it were not for English critics, we should not know or esteem our own poets; for it is only after they have acquired a standingthere, that they are admitted into society in this country. I remember what an American lady from this very city told a gentleman in Paris, when she heard a certain bard was visiting the highest society in England: ‘I cannot conceive of it,’ said she; ‘he never visited in the first societywith us.’ ‘Then,’ observed a sarcastic Scotchman, ‘the first society in England must be very differently constituted from the first society in America.’”

“You are too severe on your own countrymen,” said I.

“I am accustomed to speak my opinion frankly,” replied the Southerner. “How many of the gentlemen present do you think fit to edit a respectable paper in England?”

“That is a difficult question.”

“Oh, not at all, sir! I will answer it for you. Hardly one besides our entertainer, who, though perhaps no longer equal to what he was, possesses, nevertheless, more business tact, and writes better English, than any one of his colleagues. And yet all these men have pretensions to literature, and imagine themselves capable of judging the literary productions of others. What man of talent would under such circumstances not rather appeal to England, and be judged by his peers, than trust to the decisions of his countrymen? The greatest praise of the American press is, after all, but a dubious testimony of an author’s merits, even with a great portion of the American public; while its censure becomes doubly severe from the circumstance of its rare occurrence, and the great ease with which it may be avoided. I remember an instance in which one of this gallant body of editors ‘cut up’ a book, and that too one which has since been republished in England, merely because the author had forgotten to send him a copy;—a tribute which no poor devil of awriter ought to forget to pay to those sovereign princes of literature, if he do not wish to see himself damned. But, if the work has once gone through an edition inEngland, all is hushed in silence; for, although we declaim continually against British influence, we have scarcely an editor who dares to hold an opinion different from that of the English public. The love of independence is, indeed, inherent in them; but in such matters a meredeclarationdoes not answer the purpose.”

“And what is the usual career of one of your editors?” demanded I.

“That is easily told,” replied he. “A man fails in business, or is otherwise unfortunate; he does not succeed in his profession, or has had some other falling-out with the world. Then he turns politician, and commences generally by being a democrat. Democracy is the easiest and best commencement of a politician. He is serving his apprenticeship with the people, as a young physician first practises on the poor before he ventures his skill on those who are able to pay him. The majority of our ‘most respectable editors’ commenced in this manner, by advocating ‘the greatest good to the greatest number;’ but, once brought into notice, the transition fromRadicalism to Whiggism, and from that to Toryism, is effected with little difficulty.

“You may always doubt a democratic editor’s sincerity when hisadvertisementsbegin to increase. He is then sure of making himself agreeable to a certain portion of thecommercialcommunity, and to meet soon with the proper reward of his new political faith. You may then expect to see him promoted in society and on ’change; and ten chances to one he will be able to settle with his creditors. After that, he begins to differ in one or the other point from the leading principles of the democratic party, (for it is seldom that a man changesat oncefrom a democrat to a Whig,) until by degrees he renounces the whole doctrine as unworthy ‘of a gentleman and a scholar.’ Then he begins his abuse against themob, declaiming loudly against anarchy and usurpation; because new converts to a doctrine must show more zeal than those who have been brought up in it, and in order to exhibit their contempt for the class of society from which they themselves have sprung. These abuses are afterwards returned with interest by those who have remained faithful to their cause, or who have not yet had a chance of promotion. Hence arises a newspaper controversy, which is neither calculated toelevate the style of our writers, nor to throw much light on the great principles for which they are contending. After subtracting the personal abuse and common party slang of our papers, there remains scarcely enough matter to elicit one generous thought, or a single truth capable of adding to our political knowledge.

“Our editors are so much bent on discussing men and characters, that they scarcely ever find time for examining a principle; and hence it is that foreigners not acquainted with our public men cannot form a correct notion of our politics. It is our boast that Europeans do not understand our institutions; but I believe the same reproach applies to ourselves, and particularly to our editors. How many of these, I would ask, understand the true meaning of aristocracy and democracy? and what historical idea do they associate with these terms?

“Immediately after the revolutionary war, we had Whigs and Tories; that is, men that were honest enough openly to avow their sentiments. Thesehada political system, and defended it logically with philosophical arguments. And I will be sincere with you: a large portion of our public menwasthen inclined towards Whiggism, or rather to a moderate Toryism, as might havebeen expected from a people principally descended from England, and versed only in the British school of politics. These men, however, soon discovered the impossibility of establishing, in America, a government after the English model. Their principles and doctrines became unpopular; until, at last, their motives were suspected, and they themselves held up as traitors to the country.

“The French revolution had given a fresh impulse to the democracy of the country; and the champions of the old school—the Federalists as they were called—were obliged to leave the field to their victorious antagonists. Since that period their party has tried tosmuggleitself into power. They assumed a variety of insignificant names by which to deceive the multitude, and within the last few years sailed under false colours. They are no longer the plain honest men who come out with their principles in broad daylight; they do not advocate openly and manly the system they once gloried in, but only certain detached parts of it. They administer their politics to the people, like some disagreeable medicine, in exceedingly small doses, in order not to disgust the public stomach.

“The great majority of editors are, in every respect,the mere tools of party. They do not set up or maintain a principle, they merely spread it over a wider surface. Theirmodus operandiconsists in appealing to the passions of the multitude, upon whose decision their success mainly depends; and the same is the case with our statesmen. The democrats may do so without apparent inconsequence; theyacknowledgethe people as their sovereign, and may do them homage: but when a party, which agrees in nothing except in the conviction that the people are unfit to govern, bends its knees before that very people in order humbly to crave some of the offices and distinctions in its gift, then I can no longer remain an indifferent spectator; I feel indignant at the base conduct of these crafty flatterers, and become ashamed of the principles of the party to which my whole family and myself have always belonged.”

“You are a Federalist then?” demanded I.

“Yes, sir, one of theoldschool; for I believe that an aristocracy not linked with, but, on the contrary, separated and opposed to the people, must for ever remain powerless; and that the people of no country are to be won by empty praise and sycophancy, but by the conferring of some substantial benefit.”

“Our rich people do not even understand how to strike the lower classes with the exhibition of wealth and splendour; a practice which is rarely entirely without effect when that exhibition benefits a large number of tradespeople. So far from seeking the appearance of liberality, they hoard money in the most miserly manner; as if the mere possession of wealth, and not the skilful application of it, were capable of procuring them political influence. There is not a branch of industry in which they are not striving to grind the face of the poor, and yet they expect the latter to promote their interests! Nothing but an entire stupefaction of the people can ever make them attain their object. The people give nothing without an equivalent, and are only rendered more obstinate by the fine speeches and flattery of those who pretend to be their superiors. In one word, our aristocrats are fond of power and distinction; but they are unwilling to pay for them. Money is, and remains, their highest consideration; and the acquisition of it the principal object of their lives. Hence the privilege of making money, and of borrowing and lending it, has become the rallying point of their party. How far this will assist them it is at present difficult to tell; but one thing they may rely upon with certainty,—thatthe people, though for a time espousing their cause, will again desert them at the first clashing of interests.

“Among the Western hunters and warriors there are better materials for a future aristocracy than can be found in the Atlantic cities. They are, at least, owners of real estate, and possess the soil on which they play the lords. In short, the persons who are now called ‘the aristocracy of the Northern States’ must change their manners, habits, principles, and education, before they can expect to gain a hold on the sympathy of the people.”

“But why do you remain with a party with which you have so little sympathy?” demanded I.

“Because I do not wish to be called an ‘apostate.’ I am so far disgusted with politics, that I will not have anything to do with them hereafter. The great interests of democracy claim in every country, even in absolute monarchies, the utmost attention of the legislator. All wise statesmen, whether kings or senators, have been attached to its leading principles; but men have ever been too corrupt to give it a systematic developement. This circumstance makes me sometimes doubt its success amongus; though I, for one, am no longer opposed to the experiment.”

“The press!” shouted the company,—“the press!” and the editors pledged it in a bumper.

FOOTNOTES:[11]These remarks can, of course, only be understood as applying to thewhitepopulation of those States.[12]SinceMr.Cooper’s last publications on France, Italy, Switzerland, &c. he is less abused by his countrymen. The nice things he tells them about thepalacesof Europe, and the society of princes to which hehimselfwas invited, have put the critics in good-humour with the author.

[11]These remarks can, of course, only be understood as applying to thewhitepopulation of those States.

[12]SinceMr.Cooper’s last publications on France, Italy, Switzerland, &c. he is less abused by his countrymen. The nice things he tells them about thepalacesof Europe, and the society of princes to which hehimselfwas invited, have put the critics in good-humour with the author.

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