“You may always doubt a democratic editor’s sincerity when his advertisements begin to increase. He is then sure of making himself agreeable to a certain portion of the commercial community, 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 changes at once from 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 the mob, 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 to elevate 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. These had a political system, and defended it logically with philosophical arguments. And I will be sincere with you: a large portion of our public men was then inclined towards Whiggism, or rather to a moderate Toryism, as might have been 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 to smuggle itself 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. Their modus operandi consists 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; they acknowledge the 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 the old school; 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,—that the 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.