The U.S. Democratic Review, Vol. 1, No. 1, Introduction—The Democratic Principle, October 1837

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[Extract of] THE UNITED STATES MAGAZINE AND DEMOCRATIC REVIEW. Vol. 1. No. 1., October, 1837—pp. 1–15

|1| INTRODUCTION.
THE DEMOCRATIC PRINCIPLE—THE IMPORTANCE OF ITS ASSERTION, AND APPLICATION TO OUR POLITICAL SYSTEM AND LITERATURE.

The character and design of the work of which the first number is here offered to the public, are intended to be shadowed forth in its name, the “United States Magazine and Democratic Review.” It has had its origin in a deep conviction of the necessity of such a work, at the present critical stage of our national progress, for the advocacy of that high and holy democratic principle which was designed to be the fundamental element of the new social and political system created by the ‘American experiment ;’ for the vindication of that principle from the charges daily brought against it, of responsibility for every evil result growing out, in truth, of adventitious circumstances, and the adverse elements unhappily combined with it in our institutions ; for its purification from those corruptions and those hostile influences, by which we see its beneficent and glorious tendencies, to no slight extent, perverted and paralysed ; for the illustration of truth, which we see perpetually darkened and confused by the arts of wily error ; for the protection of those great interests, not alone of our country, but of humanity, looking forward through countless ages of the future, which we believe to be vitally committed with the cause of American Democracy. This is, in broad terms, the main motive in which this undertaking has had its origin : this is the object towards which, in all its departments, more or less directly, its efforts will tend.

There is a great deal of mutual misunderstanding between our parties ; but in truth, there does not exist in the people, with reference to its great masses, that irreconcileable hostility of opinions and leading principles which would be the natural inference from the violence of the party warfare in which we are perpetually engaged. There does exist, it is true, an essential opposition of principles, proceeding from opposite points of departure, between |2| the respective political creeds or systems of our two great parties, the Democratic and the Whig ;*|2| but we feel well assured that the great body of the latter party, those who supply their leaders and leading interests with their votes, do not rightly understand the questions at issue, in their true popular bearings ; and that, if these could but be exhibited in their proper lights, to their sound minds and honest hearts, they would soon be found ranged, by the hundreds of thousands, under the broad and bright folds of our democratic banner.

So many false ideas have insensibly attached themselves to the term ‘democracy,’ as connected with our party politics, that we deem it necessary here, at the outset, to make a full and free profession of the cardinal principles of political faith on which we take our stand ; principles to which we are devoted with an unwavering force of conviction and earnestness of enthusiasm which, ever since they were first presented to our minds, have constantly grown and strengthened by contemplation of them, and of the incalculable capabilities of social improvement of which they contain the germs.

We believe, then, in the principle of democratic republicanism, in its strongest and purest sense. We have an abiding confidence in the virtue, intelligence, and full capacity for self-government, of the great mass of our people—our industrious, honest, manly, intelligent millions of freemen.

We are opposed to all self-styled “wholesome restraints” on the free action of the popular opinion and will, other than those which have for their sole object the prevention of precipitate legislation. This latter object is to be attained by the expedient of the division of power, and by causing all legislation to pass through the ordeal of successive forms ; to be sifted through the discussions of co-ordinate legislative branches, with mutual suspensive veto powers. Yet all should be dependant with equal directness and promptness on the influence of public opinion ; the popular will should be equally the animating and moving spirit of them all, and ought never to find in any of its own creatures a self-imposed power, capable (when misused either by corrupt ambition or honest error) of resisting itself, and defeating its own determined object. We cannot, therefore, look with an eye of favor on any such forms of representation as, by length of tenure of delegated power, tend to weaken that universal and unrelaxing responsibility to the vigilance of public opinion, which is the true conservative principle of our institutions.

The great question here occurs, which is of vast importance to this country, (was it not once near dissolving the Union, and plunging it into the abyss of civil war ?)—of the relative rights of majorities |3| and minorities. Though we go for the republican principle of the supremacy of the will of the majority, we acknowledge, in general, a strong sympathy with minorities, and consider that their rights have a high moral claim on the respect and justice of majorities ; a claim not always fairly recognised in practice by the latter, in the full sway of power, when flushed with triumph, and impelled by strong interests. This has ever been the point of the democratic cause most open to assault, and most difficult to defend. This difficulty does not arise from any intrinsic weakness. The democratic theory is perfect and harmonious in all its parts ; and if this point is not so self-evidently clear as the rest is generally, in all candid discussion, conceded to be, it is because of certain false principles of government, which have, in all practical experiments of the theory, been interwoven with the democratic portions of the system, being borrowed from the example of anti-democratic systems of government. We shall always be willing to meet this question frankly and fairly. The great argument against pure democracy, drawn from this source, is this :

Though the main object with reference to which all social institutions ought to be modelled is undeniably, as stated by the democrat, “the greatest good of the greatest number,” yet it by no means follows that the greatest number always rightly understands its own greatest good. Highly pernicious error has often possessed the minds of nearly a whole nation ; while the philosopher in his closet, and an enlightened few about him, powerless against the overwhelming current of popular prejudice and excitement, have alone possessed the truth, which the next generation may perhaps recognise and practice, though its author, now sainted, has probably, in his own time, been its martyr. The original adoption of the truth would have saved perhaps oceans of blood, and mountains of misery and crime. How much stronger, then, the case against the absolute supremacy of the opinion and will of the majority, when its numerical preponderance is, as often happens, comparatively small. And if the larger proportion of the more wealthy and cultivated classes of the society are found on the side of the minority, the disinterested observer may well be excused if he hesitate long before he awards the judgment, in a difficult and complicated question, in favor of the mere numerical argument. Majorities are often as liable to error of opinion, and not always free from a similar proneness to selfish abuse of power, as minorities ; and a vast amount of injustice may often be perpetrated, and consequent general social injury be done, before the evil reaches that extreme at which it rights itself by revolution, moral or physical.

We have here, we believe, correctly stated the anti-democratic side of the argument on this point. It is not to be denied that it possesses something more than plausibility. It has certainly been |4| the instrument of more injury to the cause of the democratic principle than all the bayonets and cannon that have ever been arrayed in support of it against that principle. The inference from it is, that the popular opinion and will must not be trusted with the supreme and absolute direction of the general interests ; that it must be subjected to the “conservative checks” of minority interests, and to the regulation of the “more enlightened wisdom” of the “better classes,” and those to whom the possession of a property “test of merit” gives what they term “a stake in the community.” And here we find ourselves in the face of the great stronghold of the anti-democratic, or aristocratic *|4| principle.

It is not our purpose, in this place, to carry out the discussion of this question. The general scope and tendency of the present work are designed to be directed towards the refutation of this sophistical reasoning and inference. It will be sufficient here to allude to the leading ideas by which they are met by the advocate of the pure democratic cause.

In the first place, the greatest number are more likely, at least, as a general rule, to understand and follow their own greatest good, than is the minority.

In the second, a minority is much more likely to abuse power for the promotion of its own selfish interests, at the expense of the majority of numbers—the substantial and producing mass of the nation—than the latter is to oppress unjustly the former. The social evil is also, in that case, proportionately greater. This is abundantly proved by the history of all aristocratic interests that have existed, in various degrees and modifications, in the world. A majority cannot subsist upon a minority ; while the natural, and in fact uniform, tendency of a minority entrusted with governmental authority is, to surround itself with wealth, splendor, and power, at the expense of the producing mass, creating and perpetuating those artificial social distinctions which violate the natural equality of rights of the human race, and at the same time offend and degrade the true dignity of human nature.

In the third place, there does not naturally exist any such original superiority of a minority class above the great mass of a community, in intelligence and competence for the duties of government—even putting out of view its constant tendency to abuse from selfish motives, and the safer honesty of the mass. The general diffusion of education ; the facility of access to every species of knowledge important to the great interests of the community ; the freedom of the press, whose very licentiousness cannot materially impair its permanent value, in this country at least, make the pretensions of those self-styled “better classes” to the sole possession of the requisite |5| intelligence for the management of public affairs, too absurd to be entitled to any other treatment than an honest, manly contempt. As far as superior knowledge and talent confer on their possessor a natural charter of privilege to control his associates, and exert an influence on the direction of the general affairs of the community, the free and natural action of that privilege is best secured by a perfectly free democratic system, which will abolish all artificial distinctions, and, preventing the accumulation of any social obstacles to advancement, will permit the free developement of every germ of talent, wherever it may chance to exist, whether on the proud mountain summit, in the humble valley, or by the wayside of common life.

But the question is not yet satisfactorily answered, how the relation between majorities and minorities, in the frequent case of a collision of sentiments and particular interests, is to be so adjusted as to secure a mutual respect of rights, to preserve harmony and good will, and save society from the malum extremum discordia, from being as a house divided against itself—and thus to afford free scope to that competition, discussion, and mutual moral influence, which cannot but result, in the end, in the ascendency of the truth, and in “the greatest good of the greatest number.” On the one side, it has only been shown that the absolute government of the majority does not always afford a perfect guarantee against the misuse of its numerical power over the weakness of the minority. On the other, it has been shown that this chance of misuse is, as a general rule, far less than in the opposite relation of the ascendency of a minority ; and that the evils attendant upon it are infinitely less, in every point of view, in the one case than the other. But this is not yet a complete or satisfactory solution of the problem. Have we but a choice of evils ? Is there, then, such a radical deficiency in the moral elements implanted by its Creator in human society, that no other alternative can be devised by which both evils shall be avoided, and a result attained more analogous to the beautiful and glorious harmony of the rest of his creation ?

It were scarcely consistent with a true and living faith in the existence and attributes of that Creator, so to believe ; and such is not the democratic belief. The reason of the plausibility with which appeal may be made to the experience of so many republics, to sustain this argument against democratic institutions, is, that the true theory of national self-government has been hitherto but imperfectly understood ; bad principles have been mixed up with the good ; and the republican government has been administered on ideas and in a spirit borrowed from the strong governments of the other forms ; and to the corruptions and manifold evils which have never failed, in the course of time, to evolve themselves out of these seeds of destruction, is ascribable the eventual failure of those experiments, |6| and the consequent doubt and discredit which have attached themselves to the democratic principles on which they were, in the outset, mainly based.

It is under the word government, that the subtle danger lurks. Understood as a central consolidated power, managing and directing the various general interests of the society, all government is evil, and the parent of evil. A strong and active democratic government, in the common sense of the term, is an evil, differing only in degree and mode of operation, and not in nature, from a strong despotism. This difference is certainly vast, yet, inasmuch as these strong governmental powers must be wielded by human agents, even as the powers of the despotism, it is, after all, only a difference in degree ; and the tendency to demoralization and tyranny is the same, though the developement of the evil results is much more gradual and slow in the one case than in the other. Hence the demagogue—hence the faction—hence the mob—hence the violence, licentiousness, and instability—hence the ambitious struggles of parties and their leaders for power—hence the abuses of that power by majorities and their leaders—hence the indirect oppressions of the general by partial interests—hence (fearful symptom) the demoralization of the great men of the nation, and of the nation itself, proceeding (unless checked in time by the more healthy and patriotic portion of the mind of the nation rallying itself to reform the principles and sources of the evil) gradually to that point of maturity at which relief from the tumult of moral and physical confusion is to be found only under the shelter of an energetic armed despotism.

The best government is that which governs least. No human depositories can, with safety, be trusted with the power of legislation upon the general interests of society so as to operate directly or indirectly on the industry and property of the community. Such power must be perpetually liable to the most pernicious abuse, from the natural imperfection, both in wisdom of judgment and purity of purpose, of all human legislation, exposed constantly to the pressure of partial interests ; interests which, at the same time that they are essentially selfish and tyrannical, are ever vigilant, persevering, and subtle in all the arts of deception and corruption. In fact, the whole history of human society and government may be safely appealed to, in evidence that the abuse of such power a thousand fold more than overbalances its beneficial use. Legislation has been the fruitful parent of nine-tenths of all the evil, moral and physical, by which mankind has been afflicted since the creation of the world, and by which human nature has been self-degraded, fettered, and oppressed. Government should have as little as possible to do with the general business and interests of the people. If it once undertake these functions as its rightful province of action,|7| it is impossible to say to it ‘thus far shalt thou go, and no farther.’ It will be impossible to confine it to the public interests of the commonwealth. It will be perpetually tampering with private interests, and sending forth seeds of corruption which will result in the demoralization of the society. Its domestic action should be confined to the administration of justice, for the protection of the natural equal rights of the citizen, and the preservation of social order. In all other respects, the voluntary principle, the principle of freedom, suggested to us by the analogy of the divine government of the Creator, and already recognised by us with perfect success in the great social interest of Religion, affords the true ‘golden rule’ which is alone abundantly competent to work out the best possible general result of order and happiness from that chaos of characters, ideas, motives, and interests—human society. Afford but the single nucleus of a system of administration of justice between man and man, and, under the sure operation of this principle, the floating atoms will distribute and combine themselves, as we see in the beautiful natural process of crystallization, into a far more perfect and harmonious result than if government, with its ‘fostering hand,’ undertake to disturb, under the plea of directing, the process. The natural laws which will establish themselves and find their own level are the best laws. The same hand was the Author of the moral, as of the physical world ; and we feel clear and strong in the assurance that we cannot err in trusting, in the former, to the same fundamental principles of spontaneous action and self-regulation which produce the beautiful order of the latter.

This is then, we consider, the true theory of government, the one simple result towards which the political science of the world is gradually tending, after all the long and varied experience by which it will have dearly earned the great secret—the elixir of political life. This is the fundamental principle of the philosophy of democracy, to furnish a system of administration of justice, and then leave all the business and interests of society to themselves, to free competition and association—in a word, to the voluntary principle

Let man be fettered by no duty,
save His brother’s right—like his, inviolable.

It is borrowed from the example of the perfect self-government of the physical universe, being written in letters of light on every page of the great bible of Nature. It contains the idea of full and fearless faith in the providence of the Creator. It is essentially involved in Christianity, of which it has been well said that its pervading spirit of democratic equality among men is its highest fact, and one of its most radiant internal evidences of the divinity of its origin. It is the essence and the one general result of the science of political economy. And this principle alone, we will add, affords a satisfactory |8| and perfect solution of the great problem, otherwise unsolved, of the relative rights of majorities and minorities.

This principle, therefore, constitutes our ‘point of departure.’ It has never yet received any other than a very partial and imperfect application to practice among men, all human society having been hitherto perpetually chained down to the ground by myriads of lilliputian fetters of artificial government and prescription. Nor are we yet prepared for its full adoption in this country. Far, very far indeed, from it ; yet is our gradual tendency toward it clear and sure. How many generations may yet be required before our theory and practice of government shall be sifted and analysed down to the lowest point of simplicity consistent with the preservation of some degree of national organization, no one can presume to prophecy. But that we are on the path toward that great result, to which mankind is to be guided down the long vista of future years by the democratic principle,—walking hand in hand with the sister spirit of Christianity,—we feel a faith as implicit as that with which we believe in any other great moral truth.

This is all generalization, and therefore, though necessary, probably dull. We have endeavored to state the theory of the Jeffersonian democracy, to which we profess allegiance, in its abstract essence, however unpopular it appears to be, in these latter days, to ‘theorize.’ These are the original ideas of American democracy ; and we would not give much for that ‘practical knowledge’ which is ignorant of, and affects to disregard, the essential and abstract principles which really constitute the animating soul of what were else lifeless and naught. The application of these ideas to practice, in our political affairs, is obvious and simple. Penetrated with a perfect faith in their eternal truth, we can never hesitate as to the direction to which, in every practical case arising, they must point with the certainty of the magnetized needle ; and we have no desire to shrink from the responsibility, at the outset, of a frank avowal of them in the broadest general language.

But having done so, we will not be further misunderstood, and we hope not misrepresented, as to immediate practical views. We deem it scarcely necessary to say that we are opposed to all precipitate radical changes in social institutions. Adopting ‘Nature as the best guide,’ we cannot disregard the lesson which she teaches, when she accomplishes her most mighty results of the good and beautiful by the silent and slow operation of great principles, without the convulsions of too rapid action. Festina lente is an invaluable precept, if it be not abused. On the other hand, that specious sophistry ought to be no less watchfully guarded against, by which old evils always struggle to perpetuate themselves by appealing to our veneration for ‘the wisdom of our fathers,’ to our inert love of |9| present tranquillity, and our natural apprehension of possible danger from the untried and unknown—

Better to bear the present ills we know,
Than fly to others that we know not of.

We are not afraid of that much dreaded phrase, “untried experiment,” which looms so fearfully before the eyes of some of our most worthy and valued friends. The whole history of the progress hitherto made by humanity, in every respect of social amelioration, records but a series of ‘experiments.’ The American revolution was the greatest of ‘experiments,’ and one of which it is not easy at this day to appreciate the gigantic boldness. Every step in the onward march of improvement by the human race is an ‘experiment ;’ and the present is most emphatically an age of ‘experiments.’ The eye of man looks naturally forward ; and as he is carried onward by the progress of time and truth, he is far more likely to stumble and stray if he turn his face backward, and keep his looks fixed on the thoughts and things of the past. We feel safe under the banner of the democratic principle, which is borne onward by an unseen hand of Providence, to lead our race toward the high destinies of which every human soul contains the God-implanted germ ; and of the advent of which—certain, however distant—a dim prophetic presentiment has existed, in one form or another, among all nations in all ages. We are willing to make every reform in our institutions that may be commanded by the test of the democratic principle—to democratize them—but only so rapidly as shall appear, to the most cautious wisdom, consistent with a due regard to the existing developement of public opinion and to the permanence of the progress made. Every instance in which the action of government can be simplified, and one of the hundred giant arms curtailed, with which it now stretches around its fatal protecting grasp over almost all the various interests of society, to substitute the truly healthful action of the free voluntary principle—every instance in which the operation of the public opinion and will, fairly signified, can be brought to bear more directly upon the action of delegated powers—we would regard as so much gained for the true interest of the society and of mankind at large. In this path we cannot go wrong ; it is only necessary to be cautious not to go too fast.

Such is, then, our democracy. It of course places us in the school of the strictest construction of the constitution ; and in that appears to be involved a full committal of opinion on all the great political questions which now agitate the public mind, and to which we deem it unnecessary here to advert in detail. One necessary inference from the views expressed above is, that we consider the preservation of the present ascendency of the democratic party as of great, if not vital, importance to the future destinies of this holy |10| cause. Most of its leading members we know to possess all the qualifications that should entitle men to the confidence and attachment of their country ; and the arduous functions of the executive department of the government are administered with an efficiency, and a strictness and purity of principle, which, considering their nature, extent, and complexity, are indeed remarkable. And even without a particular knowledge of the men, the principle alone would still of necessity attach us to that party. The acquisition of the vast influence of the executive department by the present Opposition principles, we could not look upon but as a staggering blow to the cause of democracy, and all the high interests committed with it ; from which it would take a long and indefinite period of years to recover—even if the loss of time in national progress would not, in that event, have to be reckoned by generations ! We shall therefore, while devoting ourselves to preserve and improve the purity of our democratic institutions, labor to sustain the present democratic administration, by fair appeal to argument, with all the earnestness due to the gravity of the principles and interests involved.

We are admonished by the prescribed limits of this introductory article, to curtail various topics of interest to which we had intended to allude in it. The important subject of national literature cannot, however, be passed without a slight notice.

What is the cause, is sometimes asked among the disciples of the democratic school of political philosophy, of that extensive anti-democratic corruption of sentiment in some portions of our people, especially in the young mind of the nation, which is certainly so just a subject of surprise and alarm ? It has lately been a topic of newspaper remark, that nineteen-twentieths of the youth of one of the colleges of Virginia were opposed to the democratic principles. The very exaggeration is good evidence of the lamentable truth ; and it is well known that a very large proportion of the young men who annually leave our colleges, carry with them a decided anti-popular bias, to swell the ranks of that large majority of the ‘better classes’ already ranged on that side, and to exercise the influence of their cultivated talents in a cause at variance with the genius of our country, the spirit of the age, the best interests and true dignity of humanity, and the highest truths of the science of political morals.

And yet the democratic cause is one which not only ought to engage the whole mind of the American nation, without any serious division of its energies,—to carry forward the noble mission entrusted to her, of going before the nations of the world as the representative of the democratic principle and as the constant living exemplar of its results ; but which ought peculiarly to commend itself to the generosity of youth, its ardent aspirations after the |11| good and beautiful, its liberal and unselfish freedom from narrow prejudices of interest.

For Democracy is the cause of Humanity. It has faith in human nature. It believes in its essential equality and fundamental goodness. It respects, with a solemn reverence to which the proudest artificial institutions and distinctions of society have no claim, the human soul. It is the cause of philanthropy. Its object is to emancipate the mind of the mass of men from the degrading and disheartening fetters of social distinctions and advantages ; to bid it walk abroad through the free creation ‘in its own majesty ;’ to war against all fraud, oppression, and violence ; by striking at their root, to reform all the infinitely varied human misery which has grown out of the old and false ideas by which the world has been so long misgoverned ; to dismiss the hireling soldier ; to spike the cannon, and bury the bayonet ; to burn the gibbet, and open the debtor’s dungeon ; to substitute harmony and mutual respect for the jealousies and discord now subsisting between different classes of society, as the consequence of their artificial classification. It is the cause of Christianity, to which a slight allusion has been already made, to be more fully developed hereafter. And that portion of the peculiar friends and ministers of religion who now, we regret to say, cast the weight of their social influence against the cause of democracy, under the false prejudice of an affinity between it and infidelity, (no longer, in this century, the case, and which, in the last, was but a consequence of the overgrown abuses of religion found, by the reforming spirit that then awakened in Europe, in league with despotism,) understand but little either its true spirit, or that of their own faith. It is, moreover, a cheerful creed, a creed of high hope and universal love, noble and ennobling ; while all others, which imply a distrust of mankind, and of the natural moral principles infused into it by its Creator, for its own self-developement and self-regulation, are as gloomy and selfish, in the tone of moral sentiment which pervades them, as they are degrading in their practical tendency, and absurd in theory, when examined by the light of original principles.

Then whence this remarkable phenomenon, of the young mind of our country so deeply tainted with anti-democratic sentiment—a state of things lamentable in itself, and portentous of incalculable future evil ?

Various partial causes may be enumerated in explanation of it ; among which we may refer to the following : In the first place, the possession of the executive power (as it exists in our system) is, in one point of view, a great disadvantage to the principles of that ascendant party. The Administration occupies a position of defence ; the Opposition, of attack. The former is by far the more arduous task. The lines of fortification to be maintained against the never |12| relaxing onsets from every direction, are so extensive and exposed, that a perpetual vigilance and devotion to duty barely suffice to keep the enemy at bay. The attacking cause, ardent, restless, ingenious, is far more attractive to the imagination of youth than that of the defence. It is, moreover, difficult, if not impossible, to preserve a perfect purity from abuse and corruption throughout all the countless ramifications of the action of such an executive system as ours, however stern may be the integrity, and high the patriotism, of the presiding spirit which, from its head, animates the whole. Local abuses in the management of party affairs are the necessary consequence of the long possession of the ascendancy. The vast official patronage of the executive department is a weight and clog under which it is not easy to bear up. This must lay any administration open to perpetual assault at great disadvantage ; and especially if the great party campaign present at any time such a phase as may render it necessary to put forth, to the full limits of constitutional right, the energies of the executive department, to resist the accumulated pressure of attack, bearing along in its train evils, to avert which almost any means would seem justifiable. This we have seen, in a remarkable manner, the case during the two terms of the late administration. Our natural jealousy of power affords a string to which, when played upon by the bold and skilful hands that are never found wanting, the very spirit of democratic freedom never fails to respond ; and many are confused by sophistry and clamor, and carried away by the power of eloquence—divine, even though misused—to array themselves against their own best and most honest friends, under leaders, in truth, the worst enemies of the American principles for which they believe themselves contending.

In the second place, we may refer to a cause which we look upon with deep pain, as one of the worst fruits of the evil principles to which allusion has already been made above as existing in our system—the demoralization of many of the great men of the nation. How many of these master-spirits of their day, to whom their country had long been accustomed to look with generous affection as her hope and pride, have we not seen seduced from the path of their early promise by the intrigues of party and the allurements of ambition, in the pursuit of that too dazzling prize, and too corrupting both in the prospect and the possession—the presidential office ! To how many a one could we point, within the history of the last quarter of a century, to whom we might well apply Milton’s famous description of Lucifer, the Son of the Morning :

He above the rest,
In shape and gesture proudly eminent,
Stood like a tower ; his form had not yet lost
All her original brightness, nor appeared
Less than archangel ruined, and the excess
|13| Of glory obscured ; as when the sun new risen
Looks through the horizontal misty air,
Shorn of his beams, or from behind the moon,
In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds
On half the nations, and with fear of change
Perplexes monarchs. Darkened so, yet shone
Above them all the archangel ; but his face
Deep scars of thunder had entrench’d, and care
Sat on his faded cheek, but under brows
Of dauntless courage and considerate pride,
Waiting revenge, &c.

The influence of such men, (especially on the minds of the young,) commanding by their intellectual power, misleading by their eloquence, and fascinating by the natural sympathy which attaches itself to greatness still proud in its ‘fallen estate,’ produces certainly a powerful effect in our party contests.

We might also refer to the fact, that the anti-democratic cause possesses at least two-thirds of the press of the country, and that portion of it which is best supported by talent and the resources of capital, under the commercial patronage of our cities. To the strong influence that cities,—where wealth accumulates, where luxury gradually unfolds its corrupting tendencies, where aristocratic habits and social classifications form and strengthen themselves, where the congregation of men stimulates and exaggerates all ideas,—to the influence that cities exert upon the country, no inconsiderable effect is to be ascribed. From the influence of the mercantile classes, too, (extensively anti-democratic) on the young men of the professions, especially that of the law, creating an insensible bias, from the dependence of the latter mainly on the patronage of the former, these young men becoming again each the centre of a small sphere of social influence ; from that of the religious ministry, silently and insensibly exerted, from the false prejudice slightly touched upon above ; from these and some other minor influences, on which we cannot here pause, a vast and active power on public opinion is perpetually in operation. And it is only astonishing that the democratic party should be able to bear up against them all so successfully as we in fact witness. This is to be ascribed (under that Providence whose unseen hand we recognise in all human affairs) only to the sterling honesty and good sense of the great industrious mass of our people, its instinctive perception of, and yearning after, the democratic truth, and the unwavering generosity of its support of those public servants whom it has once tried well and long, and with whom it has once acknowledged the genuine sympathy of common sentiments and a common cause. Yet still the democratic principle can do little more than hold its own. The moral energies of the national mind are, to a great extent, paralyzed by division ; and instead of bearing forward the ark of democratic truth, entrusted to us as a chosen people, towards the glorious destiny of its future, we must |14| fain be content, if we can but stem with it the perpetual tide of attack which would bear it backward towards the ideas and habits of past dark ages.

But a more potent influence than any yet noticed, is that of our national literature. Or rather we have no national literature. We depend almost wholly on Europe, and particularly England, to think and write for us, or at least to furnish materials and models after which we shall mould our own humble attempts. We have a considerable number of writers ; but not in that consists a national literature. The vital principle of an American national literature must be democracy. Our mind is enslaved to the past and present literature of England. Rich and glorious as is that vast collection of intellectual treasure, it would have been far better for us had we been separated from it by the ocean of a difference of language, as we are from the country itself by our sublime Atlantic. Our mind would then have been compelled to think for itself and to express itself, and its animating spirit would have been our democracy. As it now is, we are cowed by the mind of England. We follow feebly and afar in the splendid track of a literature moulded on the whole (notwithstanding a number of noble exceptions) by the ideas and feelings of an utterly anti-democratic social system. We give back but a dim reflection—a faint echo of the expression of the English mind. No one will misunderstand us as disparaging the literature of our mother language—far from it. We appreciate it with a profound veneration and gratitude, and would use it, without abusing it by utterly submitting our own minds to it ; but we look upon it, as we do upon the political system of the country, as a something magnificent, venerable, splendid, and powerful, and containing a considerable infusion of the true principle ; yet the one no more suitable to be adopted as our own, or as a model for slavish imitation, than the other. In the spirit of her literature we can never hope to rival England. She is immeasurably in advance of us, and is rich with ever active energies, and resources of literary habits and capital (so to speak) which mock our humble attempts at imitation. But we should not follow in her wake ; a radiant path invites us forward in another direction. We have a principle—an informing soul—of our own, our democracy, though we allow it to languish uncultivated ; this must be the animating spirit of our literature, if, indeed, we would have a national American literature. There is an immense field open to us, if we would but enter it boldly and cultivate it as our own. All history has to be re-written ; political science and the whole scope of all moral truth have to be considered and illustrated in the light of the democratic principle. All old subjects of thought and all new questions arising, connected more or less directly with human existence, have to be taken up again and re-examined in this point of view. We ought to exert a powerful |15| moral influence on Europe, and yet we are entirely unfelt ; and as it is only by its literature that one nation can utter itself and make itself known to the rest of the world, we are really entirely unknown. In the present general fermentation of popular ideas in Europe, turning the public thoughts naturally to the great democracy across the Atlantic, the voice of America might be made to produce a powerful and beneficial effect on the developement of truth ; but as it is, American writings are never translated, because they almost always prove to be a diluted and tardy second edition of English thought.

The anti-democratic character of our literature, then, is a main cause of the evil of which we complain ; and this is both a mutual cause and effect, constantly acting and re-acting. Our ‘better educated classes’ drink in an anti-democratic habit of feeling and thinking from the copious, and it must be confessed delicious, fountain of the literature of England ; they give the same spirit to our own, in which we have little or nothing that is truly democratic and American. Hence this tone of sentiment of our literary institutions and of our learned professions, poisoning at the spring the young mind of our people.

If the “United States Magazine and Democratic Review” shall be able, by the influence of example and the most liberal encouragement, to contribute in any degree towards the remedy of this evil, (as of the other evils in our institutions which may need reform,) by vindicating the true glory and greatness of the democratic principle, by infusing it into our literature, and by rallying the mind of the nation from the state of torpor and even of demoralization in which so large a proportion of it is sunk, one of the main objects of its establishment will have been achieved.

Notes
*|2|.

We concede to all the privilege of exercising their own fancy in the choice of their own names.

*|4|.

Ἀριστοκρατία, the government of the best.

 

The American Review : A Whig Journal…, Vol. I, No. I, The Infancy of American Manufactures, January 1845

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[Extract of] THE AMERICAN REVIEW : A WHIG JOURNAL OF POLITICS, LITERATURE, ART, AND SCIENCE, Vol. I. JANUARY, 1845. No. I.—pp. 49–59

[Excerpt from Index to Vol. I. :] Manufactures, American, Infancy of, 49—Policy of Great Britain towards the Colonies, ib.—early acts of Parliament repressing manufactures in America, 50—same policy continued to this day, 52—necessity of a counter-policy on our part, 53— views of American Statesmen on this subject, 54—of Jefferson, ib.—of Adam Smith, ib.—of Judge Cooper, 55—of John C. Calhoun, 56—of Daniel Webster, 57—Grounds of Protective Theory, ib.

|49| THE INFANCY OF AMERICAN MANUFACTURES :
A BRIEF CHAPTER FROM OUR NATIONAL HISTORY.

The struggle for the general encouragement and promotion of American industry, by the establishment and support among us of new departments of productive labor, is of far earlier date and longer continuance than is commonly supposed. It has now been prosecuted for more than a century. While this country remained in a relation of colonial dependence on Great Britain, the American side of it was maintained at great disadvantage, but with indomitable spirit. It was a leading and then openly avowed object of British policy, to confine our people, so far as possible, to the production of colonial staples—to the cutting of timber, digging of ore, raising of grain, curing of pork, beef, &c., for the markets of the mother country, procuring thence our supplies of all descriptions of manufactures. Even Lord Chatham, our friend in the great struggle against arbitrary power, declared that Americans should be allowed to manufacture not even a hob-nail. Accordingly, acts of Parliament were passed from time to time, from the moment a disposition to minister to their own wants was manifested by our people, discouraging and thwarting that disposition. Thus, so early as 1699, only seventy-nine years after the landing of the Pilgrims on Plymouth Rock—years in great part devoted to desperate conflicts with savage nature, more savage men, and the wily and powerful civilized foemen on our northern frontier—the jealousy of England had been awakened by the progress of our household manufactures, and Parliament enacted “that no wool, yarn, or woollen manufactures of their American plantations, shall be shipped thence, or even laden in order to be transported, on any pretence whatever.”

In 1719 the House of Commons declared “that the erecting of manufactories in the colonies tends to lessen their dependence upon Great Britain.”

Complaints continued to be made to Parliament of the setting up of new trades and manufactures in the colonies, to the detriment of the trade of the mother country. Thereupon the House of Commons, | in 1731, directed the Board of Trade to inquire and report “with respect to laws made, manufactures setup, or trade carried on detrimental to the trade, navigation, or manufactures of Great Britain.” The Board of Trade reported in February, 1742, and their report gives the best account now extant of the condition of our infant manufactures at that time. It informs Parliament that the government of Massachusetts Bay had lately passed an act to encourage the manufacture of paper, “which law interferes with the profit made by the British merchant on foreign paper sent thither.”

They also reported that in all the colonies north of Delaware, and in Somerset county, Maryland, the people had acquired the habit of making coarse woollen and linen fabrics in their several families for family use. This, it was suggested, could not well be prohibited, as the people devoted to this manufacture that portion of time (the winter) when they could do nothing else. It was further stated, that the higher price of labor in the colonies than in England made the cost of producing cloth fifty per cent greater in the colonies, and would prevent any serious rivalry with the manufactures of England. Still, the Board urged that something should be done to divert the attention and enterprise of the colonists from manufactures, otherwise they might in time become formidable. To this end, they urged that new encouragement be held out to the production of naval stores. “However, we find (says the Board) that certain trades are carried on, and manufactures set up, which are detrimental to the trade, navigation, and manufactures of Great Britain.” Answers from the Royal Governors of the several colonies to queries propounded to them by the Board, were next requested. They generally reported that few or no manufactures were carried on within their several jurisdictions, and these few were of a rude, coarse kind. In New England, however, leather was made, a little poor iron, and a considerable aggregate of cloths for domestic use ; but the great part of the |50| clothing of the people was imported from Great Britain. The hatters of London complained that a good many hats were made, especially in New York. In conclusion, the Board sums up :

“From the foregoing statement, it is observable that there are more trades carried on, and manufactures set up in the provinces on the continent of America to the northward of Virginia, prejudicial to the trade and manufactures of Great Britain, particularly in New England, than in any other of the British colonies ; which is not to be wondered at, for their soil, climate, and produce being pretty nearly the same with ours, they have no staple commodities of their own growth to exchange for our manufactures, which puts them under greater necessity, as well as under greater temptations for providing for themselves at home ; to which may be added, in the charter governments, the little dependence they have on the mother country, and consequently the small restraint they are under in any matters detrimental to her interests.” They closed by repeating the recommendation that measures be taken to turn the industry of the colonies into new channels serviceable to Great Britain, particularly the production of naval stores.

Parliament proceeded to act on these suggestions. That year (1732) an act was passed “to prevent the exportation of hats out of any of His Majesty’s colonies or plantations in America, and to restrain the number of apprentices taken by the hat-makers in the said colonies, and for the better encouraging the making of hats in Great Britain.” By this act not only was the exportation of colonial hats to a foreign port prohibited, but their transportation from one British plantation to another was also prohibited under severe penalties, and no person was allowed to make hats who had not served an apprenticeship for seven years ; nor could any hatter in the colonies have more than two apprentices at any one time ; and no black or negro was permitted to work at the business of making hats.

The manufactures of iron next came in for a share in the paternal regard of Parliament. In 1750 Parliament permitted pigs and bars of iron to be imported into England from the colonies duty free ; but prohibited the erection of any mill or other engine for slitting or rolling iron, or any plating forge to work with a | tilt-hammer, or any furnace for making steel in the colonies, under the penalty of two hundred pounds. And every such mill, engine, forge, or furnace was declared a common nuisance, and the governor of the colony, on the information of two witnesses on oath, was ordered to cause the same to be abated within thirty days, or to forfeit the sum of five hundred pounds. Such was the spirit, such were the exactions of British legislation while our fathers remained subject to the mother country. [See the foregoing facts more fully cited from the original records in Pitkin’s Statistics, edition of 1835, pp. 461–66.]

The consequences of this state of enforced and abject dependence on Great Britain for the great mass of our fabrics are such as have been a thousand times realized in the history of the world. Although allowed a nearer approach to fair trade with the mother country than she has ever vouchsafed us since our independence, the colonies were never able to sell enough raw produce to England to pay for the manufactures with which she was constantly flooding us. Our people had cleared much land, built houses, and provided every thing essential to physical comfort, but the course of buying more than their exports would pay for could not be evaded. In the midst of outward prosperity, the colonies groaned under an increasing load of debts, which were constantly effecting the transfer of property here to owners in Great Britain. It was a standing reproach against our Revolutionary fathers that they flew to arms to evade the payment of their mercantile debts and the importunities of their creditors. And the Congress which assembled in 1765 to remonstrate against the Stamp Act, drew a graphic though sad picture of the calamities which had befallen the people—the multiplication of debts, the disappearance of money, the impossibility of payment, the stagnation of industry and business, through the excessive influx of foreign fabrics.

The war of the Revolution corrected this tendency, cutting off importation, and largely increasing our own household manufactures. But peace, in the utter absence of all protective legislation on our part, revived the mischief which had been trampled beneath the iron heel of war. The struggle for independence had left all the States embarrassed, trade completely disordered |51| and the whole country overwhelmed with worthless paper money ; and the unchecked importing of foreign fabrics still farther multiplied and magnified debts, deprived us of our specie, broke down the prices of our products, and created general stagnation and distress. From the state of desperation thus engendered, arose the disgraceful outbreak of insurrection in Massachusetts known as ‘Shay’s Rebellion.’ This was but one symptom of a general disease.

Repeated attempts were made to put an end to this state of things, by imposing duties on imports. But the Congress of the old confederation had no power to do this, except with the concurrence of each of the state governments. It was attempted, but failed. Rhode Island, then almost wholly a commercial state, objected, though the duty proposed was but five per cent, and the object the paying off the debts of the Revolution. Here was presented that stringent necessity which alone could have overcome the prevailing jealousies of, and aversion to, a stronger and more national government. A Convention was called, a Constitution framed and adopted ; and the second act of the new Congress stands on the records entitled : “An Act to make provision for the necessities of government, the payment of the national debt, and the protection of American manufactures” This act passed both houses of Congress by a substantially unanimous vote.

Great Britain now became alarmed for the stability of her market for manufactures in America. Her Board of Trade made a report on the subject in 1794, urging the negotiation of a commercial treaty with the United States, based on two propositions ; the first being, “that the duties on British manufactures imported into the United States shall not be raised above what they are at present.” The other proposed that the productions of other nations should be admitted into our ports in British vessels, the same as if imported in our own. But the government did not venture to press these propositions.

It was plainly discerned by the British economists of that day, that, while our Congress had explicitly asserted the principle of protection, and had intended to act consistently with that principle, yet, from inexperience and a natural hesitation to change abruptly the direction which circumstances had given to our | national industry, they had fallen far short of this. The few articles of manufacture already produced in the country to a considerable extent, were, in general, efficiently protected ; but the greater portion of the manufactures essential to our complete emancipation from colonial dependence were left unprotected by duties of five to fifteen per cent. Years of hard experience and of frequent suffering were required to teach the mass of our statesmen the advantage and beneficence of extending protection also to those articles which had not been, but might easily and profitably be, produced in our own country, if the producers were shielded from the destructive rivalry always brought to bear upon a new branch of industry by the jealous and powerful foreign interests which it threatens to deprive of a lucrative market. We had but begun to learn the truths which form the basis of a wise and beneficent national economy, when the breaking out of the great wars in Europe opened to us large and lucrative foreign markets for our raw staples, and the heads of our most sedate thinkers were nearly turned by the tempting prizes proffered to mercantile enterprise by the convulsions of the old world. It seemed as though we had but to produce whatever was easiest and most natural to us, and Europe would take it at our own price, and pay us bountifully for carrying it where she wanted it. This was a pleasant dream while it lasted, but a brief one. We were awakened from it by seizures, confiscations, embargoes, and at last war, which imposed on us the necessity of commencing nearly every branch of manufacture under the most unfavorable auspices, and of course at a ruinous cost. The war with Great Britain was, in this respect, a substantial benefit to the country. The Congress of 1816 failed to impose a tariff at all adequate (save on a few articles) to the real wants of the country, but the germ of industrial independence had been planted in a soil fertilized, by blood, and the plant was destined to live and flourish, though exposed to rude blasts and chilling frosts in its spring-time. From 1816 to 1824, it might well have seemed doubtful whether the country would not discard all the dear-bought experience of the past, and blast all the well-grounded hopes for the future, in a heedless pursuit of what seemed (deceitful seeming !) to be the sordid interest of the present. But better counsels ultimately |52| prevailed, and the passage of the tariff of 1824 may be regarded as the resting of the ark of national independence on the dry and solid ground of efficient and positive protection to home industry. From that hour until the duties were sensibly reduced under the operation of the Compromise Act, the course of the country was due onward to more and more decided prosperity.

Experience and observation are of little use if we fail to regulate our conduct by them. The same policy which the British Government pursued towards this country whilst in its dependent colonial state, still forms the favorite measures of that government towards the United States. It would be no difficult matter to show that upon every agitation of the question of protection in Congress, the British Parliament have introduced some proceedings in order to distract, if possible, the attention of our statesmen, and to induce among us an opposition to any measures which should establish protection to our own industry, as the settled policy of the nation. The Parliament even carried the farce so far, that in May, 1840, a time when the whole people of this country were thoroughly waking up to the importance of the home system, they raised a select committee in the House of Commons, to inquire whether the duties levied by the British tariff “are for protection to similar articles” manufactured in that country, or “for the purposes of revenue alone.” This select committee, in their report of August 6, 1840, appear to have lost sight of the principal object apparent on the face of the resolution authorizing their examination and report, and content themselves with observing that the English tariff “often aims at incompatible ends ; the duties are sometimes meant to be both productive of revenue and for protective objects.” But they state that they had discovered “a growing conviction, that the protective system is not, on the whole, beneficial to the protected manufactures themselves.”

After such a discovery, and its solemn announcement by a select committee of the House of Commons, it would reasonably be imagined that some steps would be taken towards rectifying that “incompatibility” in the British policy, and in abandoning that system which they represent as having been found not to be beneficial to their protected manufactures. If, however, we expect any such | thing from that quarter we shall be much mistaken in our anticipations. That report was grown and manufactured for the American market, and was not designed for any real effect upon the proceedings of the British House of Commons. It was intended to convince the American Congress and the American people that Great Britain was almost ruined by her protective system, (a system of ruin which she adheres to with astonishing pertinacity up to the present moment,) that our protective tariff would in like manner be ruinous to us, and that our only salvation was in adopting at once the principles of free-trade,—opening our ports to all British manufactures, and becoming, in fact, merely a market for British labor. Whether, following a change on our side of the policy, they would admit our agricultural products freely, or how our own mechanics should find employment to keep them from starving, they would leave to be afterwards discovered.

Finding that their recommendation to us had no effect upon the measures of our government, they cease to be careful of the principles they put forth to the world, and seeing no longer any good reason for disguise, the leading men in both houses of Parliament afford us a fine commentary upon the text of that report of the select committee. The Duke of Wellington very recently, with the frankness of his known character, stated in the House of Peers, the true and permanent policy of Great Britain, in observing that “when free-trade was talked of as existing in England, it was an absurdity. There was no such thing, and there could be no such thing as free-trade in that country. We proceed (says he) on the system of protecting our own manufactures and our own produce—the produce of our labor and our soil ; of protecting them for exportation, and protecting them for home consumption ; and on that universal system of protection it is absurd to talk of free-trade.”

The necessity of a modification in our duties upon imports, which became apparent early in 1842, afforded a further insight into the course of British policy towards this country. So soon as the cry for protection to American industry became so loud and long as to require an answer to its demand from the supreme legislative authority, we were told throughout the whole length and breadth of our land, the information originating in |53| England for our benefit, that Great Britain was willing to take our surplus bread-stuff in exchange for her manufactures ; and that there was therefore no necessity of changing our tariff policy in order to build up a home market for our grain-growers in the Western and Middle states, as well as our cotton-planters in the South. This would have been the tale to this day if we had not settled our protective system. It continued to be used as long as it could be with any effect ; and when it became apparent to the British administration that the people of the United States could be no longer deluded by their interested and mystified views of state policy, volunteered for our service, they at once changed their note, as will be seen on reference to the speech of Sir Robert Peel in the House of Commons, in May, 1843, upon the motion of Mr. Villiers for a repeal of the English corn-laws. Sir Robert sustains and advocates the British system, and that motion was rejected by a majority of one hundred and ninety-six votes ! Those who had previously flattered themselves that the British ministry were prepared to go, in some modified form, for free-trade, will do well to notice the horror expressed by Sir Robert Peel of the consequences of abandoning “the principle of protection ;” and they will see by that most decisive vote that the House of Commons agree with him in sentiment. As to the judgment of the House of Peers on the subject, there cannot be a question that they are more thoroughly opposed, from interest, to any kind of free-trade, than even the Commons. The Duke of Wellington in his speech (to which we have previously referred) expressed the sentiments of a large majority of that house.

It follows then, that unless we are determined to be infatuated, we must see that Great Britain does not intend, under any possible state of circumstances, to abandon the full and entire protection of her own agriculturists, and her own manufactures. We do not see then why we should for a moment hesitate about effectually protecting ours. It does not become us as a people to suffer ourselves to be hoodwinked by interested British statesmen,—to have our state policy indicated to us by British capitalists and manufacturers—a policy which they are very careful not to adopt themselves.

And with the knowledge which our people have, or may have by merely | looking into the history of the world about us, it is beyond measure strange that there should be a difference of opinion amongst our citizens on the subject. The new school of political economists, disciples of Adam Smith, have set up for their chief maxim, that nations should buy where they can buy cheapest. This may at any time be a sufficient rule for the present by itself ; but they seem never to have reflected that with nations as much as with individuals, a smaller present good is often to be foregone for a greater good in the future. Great Britain was once dependent on Flanders for her woollen goods, on the East Indies for her cottons, on France for her paper, glass, and various articles. Had she continued to act on the present-advantage system, she would have been so dependent to this hour. She now makes them all for herself, besides gathering in half the wealth of the world by selling the surplus. It is the same policy which alone can raise us to any permanent height of strength and prosperity, or even keep us from sinking into a second state of colonial dependence. The advantages and blessings which have followed the adoption of the present tariff, the act of 1842, should open the eyes of all who are not intentionally blind. Just before the passage of the present tariff in August, 1842, there were forty thousand unemployed persons in the state of Pennsylvania alone ; and at the same time full ten thousand of the industrious classes in the city of Philadelphia were vainly endeavoring to earn the means by which to buy bread to feed themselves and their families. Our tariff has fed the hungry, found employment for the destitute ; and the blessing of those who were in want, and ready to perish, sanctifies it as one of the most righteous measures of a government founded for the good of the people.

The enemies of the American system are accustomed to assail it as unconstitutional. We consider this point to have been effectually settled by Mr. Webster’s late clear and powerful argument at Albany. We do not see how any one can read that argument, or can be in any other way familiar with the history of those times, and not be convinced of the existence of such powers in the Constitution to the full extent claimed by the friends of the tariff. It is known, as well as any thing can be known, that the exercise of such powers by the new |54| Congress “was the expectation, the belief, the conviction that prevailed everywhere ;” that the first three petitions presented to that body were from tradesmen, manufacturers, and mechanics, in different sections of the Union, for protection, and that Congress recognised the propriety of such petitions, and passed acts for their benefit.

History makes it certain, also, that our great men, throughout that eventful period and at a later day, whatever opinions they may have expressed when mere party or political interests were at stake, at other times, when looking alone at the true interests of the nation, the whole nation, have uniformly held and expressed but one opinion, and that in favor of the American protective system. Of the sentiments of Washington on this point there is not and cannot be a doubt. They have been too often expressed to leave it a matter of question. Our opponents, however, are rarely found quoting Washington on any point ; they believe in Jefferson rather. They should have better known the opinions of the man to whom they so constantly and pertinaciously appeal. The sentiments of Hamilton, Franklin, Madison, on the subject, and others of the Men of the Revolution, it would be a waste of time to call forth in array ; but as it seems to be somewhat the fashion of the day to represent the leaders of the Democratic party as opposed to the Protective System, we shall occupy a few moments to show most clearly, if they are so now, it is because they have abandoned the primitive faith of Democracy, as known in the time of Thomas Jefferson, and much later. We do this in no invidious sense, but merely to show that but one system of policy has ever been held in the country, from the first formation of our federal government to the present time.

And first, the Free-Trade and Texas party will be delighted to hear the words of one whom they are proud to call “the Apostle of Democracy.” In Jefferson’s “Report on the privileges and restrictions of the commerce of the United States” are the following sensible passages :—

“When a nation imposes high duties on our productions, or prohibits them altogether, it may be proper for us to do the same by theirs—first burdening or excluding those productions which they bring here in competition with our own of the same kind ; selecting next such manufactures as | we take from them in greatest quantity, and which at the same time we could the soonest furnish to ourselves, or obtain from other countries ; imposing on them duties light at first, but heavier and heavier afterwards, as other channels of supply open.

“Such duties, having the effect of indirect encouragement to domestic manufactures of the same kind, may induce the manufacturer to come himself into these States, where cheaper subsistence, equal laws, and a vent for his wares, free of duty, may insure him the highest profits from his skill and industry. The oppressions of our agriculture in foreign parts would thus be made the occasion of relieving it from a dependence on the councils and conduct of others, and of promoting arts, manufactures, and population at home.”

Corroboratory views are given by him in his Message of Dec. 2d, 1806. After representing the accruing revenue as being more than sufficient for the wants of government if peace should continue, he proceeds :—

“The question therefore now comes forward, to what other objects shall these surpluses be appropriated, and the whole surplus of impost, after the entire discharge of the public debt, and during those intervals when the purposes of war shall not call for them ? Shall we suppress the impost, and give that advantage to foreign over domestic manufactures ? On a few articles of more general and necessary use, the suppression, in due season, will doubtless be right, but the great mass of the articles on which impost is paid are foreign luxuries, purchased by those only who are rich enough to afford themselves the use of them. Their patriotism would certainly prefer its continuance and application to the great purposes of public education, roads, rivers, canals, and such other objects of public improvement as it may be thought proper to add to the constitutional enumeration of federal powers.”

It is fitting that this should be followed by a maxim or two from Adam Smith, from whom this school have derived all their new tenets :

“Whatever tends to diminish in any country the number of artificers and manufacturers, tends to diminish the home market, the most important of all markets for the rude produce of the lands, and thereby still further to discourage agriculture.

“If the free importation of foreign manufactures were permitted, several of the home manufacturers would probably suffer, and some of them perhaps go to ruin altogether, |55| and a considerable part of the stock and industry employed in them would be forced to find out some other employment.” —Smith’s Wealth of Nations, vol. i. p. 321.

These maxims are altogether the truth ; we are not bound to consider whether the Doctor falsifies in them his own theory.

The name of Thomas Cooper, again, is constantly in the mouths of our opponents as an upholder of their favorite notions. They should learn to read less obliquely. We quote from his Principles of Political Economy, written during or soon after the War :

“We are too much dependent upon Great Britain for articles that habit has converted into necessaries. A state of war demands privations that a large portion of our citizens reluctantly submit to. Home manufactures would greatly lessen the evil.

“By means of debts incurred for foreign manufactures, we are almost again become colonists—we are too much under the influence, indirectly, of British merchants and British agents. We are not an independent people. Manufactures among us would tend to correct this, and give a stronger tone of nationality at home.”

Consistent Democrats are always lamenting the influence of manufactures on agriculture. They will be comforted by discovering that Judge Cooper thought otherwise. He remarks :

The state of agriculture would improve with the improvement of manufactures, by means of the general spirit of energy and exertion which nowhere exist in so high a degree as in a manufacturing country ; and by the general improvement of machinery, and the demand for raw materials.

Our agriculturists want a home market. Manufactures would supply it. Agriculture at great distances from seaports languishes for want of this. Great Britain exhibits an instance of unexampled power and wealth by means of an agriculture greatly dependent on a system of manufactures—and her agriculture, thus situated, is the best in the world, though still capable of great improvement.”

It should ever be brought out into the light and kept before the people, that we possess an immense country, with every variety of soil, and climate, and geological structure, calculated for all the staple manufactures in use among us, and for all kinds of agricultural products, especially those grown away from the tropics ; and that one part of the country is fitted | to produce what another part cannot. One section may therefore just as well exchange commodities with another as with a foreign country, aside from the vast advantage of having a market nearer and surer. On this point and some others at the same time, we commend to free-traders among us some judicious remarks of their favorite, Judge Cooper :

“The home trade, consisting in the exchange of agricultural surpluses for articles of manufacture, produced in our own country, will, for a long time to come, furnish the safest and the least dangerous—the least expensive and the least immoral—the most productive and the most patriotic employment of surplus capital, however raised and accumulated. The safest, because it requires no navies exclusively for its protection ; the least dangerous, because it furnishes no excitement to the prevailing madness of commercial wars ; the least expensive, for the same reason that it is the safest and the least dangerous ; the least immoral, because it furnishes no temptation to the breach or evasion of the laws ; to the multiplication of oaths and perjuries ; and to the consequent prostration of all religious feeling, and all social duty : the most productive, because the capital admits of quicker returns ; because the whole of the capital is permanently invested and employed at home ; because it contributes, directly, immediately, and wholly, to the internal wealth and resources of the nation ; because the credits given are more easily watched, and more effectually protected by our own laws, well known, easily resorted to, and speedily executed, than if exposed in distant and in foreign countries, controlled by foreign laws and foreign customs, and at the mercy of foreign agents ; the most patriotic, because it binds the persons employed in it by all the ties of habit and of interest to their own country ; while foreign trade tends to denationalize the affections of those whose property is dispersed in foreign countries, whose interests are connected with foreign interests, whose capital is but partially invested at the place of their domicil, and who can remove with comparative facility from one country to another. The wise man observed of old, that ‘where the treasure is, there will the heart be also.’  ”

“Nor can there be any fear that for a century to come, there will not be full demand produced by a system of home manufacture for every particle of surplus produce that agriculture can supply. Of all the occupations which may be employed in furnishing articles either of immediate necessity, of reasonable want, or of direct connection with agriculture, we have in |56| abundance the raw materials of manufacture ; and the raw material, uninstructed man, to manufacture them. Is it to be pretended that these occupations, when fully under way at home, will not furnish a market for the superfluous produce of agriculture, provided that produce be, as it necessarily will be, suited to the demand ? Or ought this variety of occupation, and above all, the mass of real knowledge it implies, to be renounced and neglected for the sake of foreign commerce—that we may not interfere with the profits and connections of the merchants who reside among us ; and that we may be taxed, and tolerated, and licensed, to fetch from abroad what we can, with moderate exertion, supply at home ? It appears to me of national importance to counteract these notions.”

We pass finally to one of the modern pillars of the no-protection policy, John C. Calhoun. What he now thinks, his party profess to know. For ourselves, we are glad he ever held opinions so sound as these.

The passages, taken from a speech delivered in Congress, April, 1816, relate to that momentous condition to which every nation is liable, but the idea of which seems never to have presented itself to the minds of the radical economists—a state of war. The language is eloquent and powerful, the reasoning most conclusive :

“The security of a country mainly depends on its spirit and its means ; and the latter principally on its moneyed resources. Modified as the industry of this country now is, whenever we have the misfortune to be involved in a war with a nation dominant on the ocean, and it is almost only with such we can at present be, the moneyed resources of the country, to a great extent, must fail. It is the duty of Congress to adopt those measures of prudent foresight which the events of war make necessary.

“Commerce and agriculture, till lately, almost the only, still constitute the principal sources of our wealth. So long as these remain uninterrupted, the country prospers : but war, as we are now circumstanced, is equally destructive to both. They both depend on foreign markets ; and our country is placed, as it regards them, in a situation strictly insular. A wide ocean rolls between us and our markets. What, then, are the effects of a war with a maritime power—with England ? Our commerce annihilated, spreading individual misery, and, producing national poverty ; our agriculture cut off from its accustomed, markets, the surplus product, of the farmer perishes on his hands ; and he ceases to produce, because he cannot sell. His resources are dried up, | while his expenses are greatly increased, as all manufactured articles, the necessaries as well as the conveniences of life, rise to an extravagant price.

“No country ought to be dependent on another for its means of defence ; at least, our musket and bayonet, our cannon and ball, ought to be domestic manufacture. But what is more necessary to the defence of a country than its currency and finance ? Circumstanced as our country is, can these stand the shock of war ? Behold the effect of the late war on them ! When our manufactures are grown to a certain perfection, as they soon will, under the fostering care of government, we will no longer experience those evils. The farmer will find a ready market for his surplus produce ; and, what is almost of equal consequence, a certain and cheap supply for all his wants. His prosperity will diffuse itself to every class in the community ; and instead of that languor of industry and individual distress now incident to a state of war and suspended commerce, the wealth and vigor of the community will not be materially impaired. The arm of government will be nerved. Taxes, in the hour of danger, when essential to the independence of the nation, may be greatly increased. Loans, so uncertain and hazardous, may be less relied on ; thus situated, the storm may beat without, but within all will be quiet and safe.

“However prosperous our situation when at peace, with uninterrupted commerce—and nothing then could exceed it—the moment that we are involved in war, the whole is reversed. When resources are most needed ; when indispensable to maintain the honor, yes, the very existence of the nation, then they desert us. Our currency is also sure to experience the shock ; and becomes so deranged as to prevent us from calling out fairly whatever of means is left to the country. The exportation of our bulky articles is prevented : the specie of the country is drawn off to pay the balance perpetually accumulating against us ; and the final result is the total derangement of our currency.

Manufactures produce an interest strictly American, as much so as agriculture. In this they have the decided advantage of commerce or navigation ; and the country will derive from it much advantage. Again, it is calculated to bind together more closely our wide-spread Republic. It will greatly increase our mutual dependence and intercourse : and will, as a necessary consequence, excite an increased attention to internal improvement, a subject every way so intimately connected with the ultimate attainment of national strength, and the perfection of our political institutions.”

|57| Having thus exhibited the opinions on this great question, of the most eminent of those whose opinions our opponents have ever professed to follow, (undoubtedly they can claim that James K. Polk is not of the number—he never had but one sentiment on the subject, and the people will remember it,) we wish only to subjoin a passage from another eminent man, on a consideration of mightier importance to a great nation than any of these practical points—the influence, namely, of the protective system on the education and morals of the people. It is a passage from Mr. Webster’s late speech at Albany.

“In this country, wages are high : they are, and they ought to be, higher than in any other country in the world. And the reason is, that the laborers of this country are the country. The vast proportion of those who own the soil, especially in the Northern States, cultivate their own acres. They stand on their own acres. The proprietors are the tillers, the laborers on the soil. But this is not all. The members of the country here are part and parcel of the Government. This is a state of things which exists nowhere else on the face of the earth. An approximation to it has been made in France, since the Revolution of 1831, which secured the abolition of primogeniture and the restraints of devises.

“But nowhere else in the world does there exist such a state of things as we see here, where the proprietors are the laborers and at the same time help to frame the Government. If, therefore, we wish to maintain the Government, we must see that labor with us is not put in competition with the pauper, unlearned, ignorant labor of Europe. Our men who labor have families to maintain and to educate. They have sons to fit for the discharge of the duties of life ; they have an intelligent part to act for themselves and their connections. And is labor like that to be reduced to a level with that of the forty millions of serfs of Russia, or the serfs of other parts of Europe, or the half-fed, half-clothed, ignorant, dependent laborers of a great part of the rest of Europe ? America must cease then to be America. We should be transferred to I know not what sort of a Government—transferred to I know not what state of society, if the laborers in this country are to do no more to maintain and educate their families and provide for old age, than they do in the Old World. And may our eyes never look upon such a spectacle as that in this free country !”

Having thus set forth, though in too short space, the early history of our | manufactures, the early and the latter conduct of England with respect to them, and the true and only policy of our government in the matter, confirming our views and the force of history by the opinions of men whom the enemies of such policy are bound to believe, we are disposed to embody, in conclusion, some of the grounds of the Protective Theory in a few simple propositions.

1. A judicious tariff affords to the industry of the country, protection against derangement and depression by unequal foreign competition ; it sustains and cherishes such industry, increasing its efficiency and rewards at the same time that it provides a revenue, adequate to pay the debts and defray the current expenses of the government.

2. It extends and diversifies the sphere of home industry, by calling into existence such new branches of production as are adapted to the wants and circumstances of the people, keeping ever in view the natural resources and facilities of the country, and the genius of its inhabitants.

3. The effect of such protection is to increase generally the intellectual and industrial capacity of the laboring class ; to render them more independent, and increase the reward of their labor ; while at the same time it ensures to capital a more uniform activity, and renders property and products of all kinds more readily and uniformly convertible at fair and reasonable prices.

4. This policy is especially adapted to and demanded by the interests of the great Agricultural class, who can very rarely secure a steady, remunerating demand for their surplus productions elsewhere than in their own country ; many of those products being perishable, and liable to be seriously injured, if not destroyed, by transportation to any considerable distance, while nearly all of them are bulky, and only to be conveyed to foreign countries at a ruinous expense.

5. Protection, though often valuable and necessary to the farmer in keeping out of our own markets foreign products which rival and supplant his own, is still more useful and indispensable to him in creating and maintaining all around and beside him ready and steady markets for his produce, by bringing into prosperous and durable existence new branches of industry which do not rival his own, but which employ multitudes who are consumers |58| only, and not to any great extent producers, of agricultural staples.

6. Duties levied on foreign fabrics which shut out those fabrics and build up a home production of substitutes, and so a vastly enlarged and quickened home consumption of provisions, fruits, wool, cotton, fuel, &c., are truly protective of agriculture, and essential to its prosperous existence.

7. The effect of an adequate and wise protection is to bring the producer and consumer far nearer each other—to unite them in friendly intimacy and mutual good-will—to diminish largely and beneficially the heavy subtraction otherwise made from the general proceeds of productive labor to pay the cost and charges of transportation and trade—and to secure them against the chances and changes of fluctuation in national policy and the occasional intervention of embargoes and war.

8. The limitations thus set to the sphere and operations of trade are not injurious even to a just and useful commerce, since every nation must still purchase of other nations those various products, mineral and vegetable, with which the diversities of soil, of climate, and of geologic structure, enable one to supply another with decided advantage to both ; and far greater development and productive efficiency will be ensured to the industry of each nation by wise protection and encouragement. The imports of any nation will be found to bear a far nearer proportion to the productiveness of its industry than to the freedom of its trade—being governed by its ability to pay rather than its willingness to buy.

9. The proper and decisive consideration in determining whether to protect or not protect the home production of a particular article, is simply—Have we evidence that it may ultimately be produced here, if adequately protected now, as cheaply—that is, with as little labor—as it can be produced elsewhere ? If it can be, then it is wise, beneficent, patriotic, to cherish the home production, although the money cost of the article, by reason of the cheapness of labor in some other countries as compared with its price in our own, may be permanently less if imported free of duty.

10. If the effective laboring population of our country be estimated at 4,000,000, by whom 3,000,000 under a revenue tariff are engaged in producing articles of necessity or utility, and | 1,000,000 in interchanging, transporting, and selling them ; and the consequence of a resort to protective duties be to diminish the latter class to half a million and increase the former, without impairing the efficiency of their labor, to three and a half millions, as its tendency must manifestly be, then the aggregate annual product of our national industry must be increased one-seventh, the average reward of labor enhanced in like proportion, and the wealth of the country be rapidly and steadily augmented.

11. While one effect of mere revenue duties manifestly is and must be an enhancement of the price to the consumer of the article on which they are levied, the influence of protective duties naturally is and must be to diminish the price of the protected articles to their consumers, by cutting down the cost of transportation and traffic, although the producer in this country may receive for it as much as, or even more than, formerly.

12. This tendency of protective duties in diminishing the cost of the protected articles to the consumer is accelerated by the following incidents or results of protection :

1st, Comparative steadiness of demand for the producer ; the home market being naturally less variable than a distant one.

2d, Increased demand for the product. Our people buy and consume more of an article made at home and paid for with their own products, than of a foreign one.

3d, Comparative steadiness of prices. The maker of hats or calicoes for a protected home market, while he is constantly pressed down in his prices by competition, to a point very near the cost of production, is yet never subjected to that sort of competition which, based on cheaper labor and other elements of production, seeks a present ruinous depression of prices in the hope of securing a future monopoly of the market, and a consequent ample remuneration for all losses.

The man who produces any fabric, knowing that he is morally sure of a fair reward for his labor, can afford it cheaper, and generally will do so, than if he labored always in terror of an unequal and ruinous competition ; just as the New England farmer of to-day can afford corn cheaper than his forefathers could two hundred years ago, when they were compelled to raise it only within |59| the shadow of a fort, and hoe with their guns stacked in the field.

13. We object altogether to the levying of a tariff for revenue merely, as unequal and unjust. On the free-trade assumption that all duties raise the price of the articles on which they are levied, and so operate only as a tax on the consumer, we deny the rightfulness of raising revenue in this mode, since the man who has no property to protect, and the woman who has no voice in the government, may often be compelled to contribute as much towards the support of the government as a Rothschild or Jacob Astor. If a tariff is not beneficently protective, it ought not to exist at all.

| 14. We do not propose nor advocate absolutely prohibitory duties. We would adjust the tariff so as to give to every branch of home industry a clear and undeniable advantage over the rival industry of foreign nations in the supply of our own markets, but leave it so that novel and rare fabrics might be moderately introduced, to stimulate invention and improvement in our own artisans, and contribute to the national revenue. Such limited importations may also be serviceable in correcting any momentary tendency to excessive prices by combinations among our own producers of any article.

 

The American Review : A Whig Journal…, Vol. I, No. VI, The Mystery of Iniquity (2), June 1845

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[Extract of] THE AMERICAN REVIEW : A WHIG JOURNAL OF POLITICS, LITERATURE, ART, AND SCIENCE, Vol. I. JUNE, 1845. No. VI.—pp. 551–574

[Excerpt from Index to Vol. I. :] Mystery of Iniquity, (D. F. Bacon,) 441,—continued, 551.

THE MYSTERY OF INIQUITY.
A PASSAGE OF THE SECRET HISTORY OF AMERICAN POLITICS, ILLUSTRATED BY A VIEW OF METROPOLITAN SOCIETY.

(Continued from page 453.)

The great political contest of 1844 was preluded by a series of minor circumstances, local in their origin and character, which gave direction, form and effect to the criminal agencies called into action through that momentous strife. However novel the inventions of fraud, however unexpected the new national questions finally presented, however sudden the changes of candidates and of the relative positions of parties, the incidents which controlled the great event were all antecedent to 1844. The great battle was lost and won, beyond retrieval, in 1842 and 1843. These local preliminary facts, therefore, have an import essential to a correct deduction of the effects from their proper causes.

The autumnal election of 1843, in New York, first developed one of these essential facts. The success which was secured by wholesale fraud and perjury in the spring, brought with it varied and conflicting obligations. In the dominant party, two mutually hostile elements had been for a long time struggling into separate existence. It was ever the policy, and often the successful agency of that party, to array against each other the various classes of the community,—to excite and wage a “social war” between portions of the people distinguished from each other by occupation, property, position and rank, interest, religious opinion or | place of birth. At one time, it was—the supposed natural and universal hostility of laborers against their employers, and the professional and educated classes ; at another time, it was—the imagined antipathy of mechanics and all other classes against the merchants and bankers ; at another time, it was—of the debtors against the creditors, the borrowers against the lenders ; at another time, it was—of the stock-jobbers and capitalists against the speculative and enterprising ; at another time, it was—of the successful and prosperous men of business against the unfortunate and the bankrupts ; at another time, it was—the merchants, and especially the importers, against the mechanics and manufacturers ; but, very uniformly, their great cry was—“the poor against the rich ;” and it was always—the Romish sectarian against the Protestant, and the foreign-born against the native of a republican country.

Feeding thus the morbid and ravenous appetites of the basest and most malevolent, with mere clamors and with empty denunciations varying in note with every breeze, they had gradually, insensibly aroused among themselves a spirit of intolerance and animosity between classes, which finally became as perilous to the harmony and success of the party, as it had been to the peace and good order of the community. The mass of naturalized |552| voters were for a long time studiously trained to habits of disorder and insolence in their political action, and were continually taught to regard the peaceable portion of the community and the party associated with them, and the majority of native citizens, as their natural enemies, hostile to their continued enjoyment of equal political privileges and jealous of their intrusion. Assurances were multiplied to them that the party with which they generally acted contained their only friends ; and that their only security for the maintenance of their rights, was the ascendency of that party. The strong religious sympathies and antipathies of those who were of the Romish sect were continually played upon ; and the great portion of the Protestants, particularly of the more cultivated evangelical order, who predominated in the opposing party, were charged with desiring and designing to deprive Papists of their due share of the advantages of the public systems of education, and to convert the legislation of the State and the distribution of its bounties, to the dissemination of religious opinions hostile to the faith of Rome, among children in the public schools.

The Papists, thus excited, became clamorous for new privileges and safeguards, which they finally extorted from their reluctant guardians, who never intended to put themselves to this trouble for them, or to do more than keep awake their hostility to the other party, and retain the great mass of naturalized citizens in support of their own schemes for obtaining and retaining political power. The services of their “adopted” friends, at the polls, in public meetings and in riots, were paid only with fine speeches, professions of peculiar affection and admiration for “foreigners,” and innumerable declamations against “the moneyed aristocracy,” as the natural and deadly foes of the democracy and the hard-fisted working-men. Of the “spoils of victory” won by their labors, they seldom received even a pittance. From office they were almost uniformly excluded by those of American birth, who used them but as tools and stepping-stones for their personal advantage. Year after year, the accession of the peculiar friends of the “foreigners” to power brought but this result in spite of the dissatisfaction consequently accumulating.

The time came at last, when this unequal management of patronage could be endured no longer. Emboldened by their | success in obtaining special legislation for sectarian purposes, through their rebellious dictation in 1841, they took occasion, on the eve of the Charter Election of 1843, to threaten another schism and a separate organization, by which their previous political associates would be inevitably overthrown, and the party usually in apparent minority, placed in power almost without occasion for effort. Their ultimatum to the chief candidates and responsible organizations of the party was—the demand of an unequivocal promise of “a fair division of the spoils” with the largest number of offices given to the naturalized citizens, who for some years had given more than half and sometimes nearly two-thirds of the lawful votes of that party. They claimed, with very little exaggeration, a force of not less than 10,000 voters of foreign nativity, entitled by every republican usage and rule to more than half the emoluments of the government ; and as they were confessedly deficient in qualified candidates for their due proportion of the more honorable and higher-salaried offices, this was to be compensated by yielding to them a still larger number of appointments humbler in rank and pay.

These claims, enforced by threats which they had less than two years before shown to be of serious significance, were, of necessity, recognized by the powers that were to be ; and secret assurances were given to the claimants, that they should no longer be wronged of their share of the pecuniary benefits of success, and that they should have a full and fair apportionment of offices and employments. This contract was fulfilled in good faith by the dominant party, immediately after their accession to power. A violation or imperfect performance of it would have exposed them to certain overthrow, and political death from the vengeance of their naturalized friends. When the usual sweeping removal of all the incumbents took place, hundreds of appointments which were demanded and expected, as a matter of course, by faithful partisans of American birth, were conferred upon persons of foreign origin and accent, odious to the great mass of their political associates, and despised by them for their brutality, ignorance, and their enslavement to an obnoxious religion. Watchmen, lamp-lighters, street-sweepers, bell-ringers, dock-masters, &c., &c., &c., were found almost exclusively among a class who had before been accounted by |553| regularly established “old line” of officeholders, as but “the dogs under the table, that eat of the children’s crumbs.” The good old rule of distribution, time-hallowed and precious, had been “Let the children be first filled : for it is not meet to take the children’s bread, and cast it to the dogs.”

The disappointment, disgust and wrath caused by this new arrangement of the policy of patronage, broke forth instantaneously with a power not before appreciated—a vindictive passion not anticipated—by those who had known these agents of political corruption but as the servants of party, and who had seen their fidelity only when hired and paid, and had heedlessly mistaken them for slaves, working in bondage, like the mass, in the chains of prejudice and envious stupidity—without fee or reward other than the gratification of beholding the mortification, injury and abasement of those who ranked above them in society. They mis-counted the weight of these base influences. These, however mighty, could not outweigh the sense of new wrong inflicted by those under whose direction they had sacrificed all—honesty, conscience, self-respect, reputation, the good opinion of respectable and independent freemen. The outburst of the fury thus excited, overbore for a time all the barriers of party despotism, and rent the bonds of foreign thraldom to an extent not easily to be repaired. The new movement became a flood which rose to a hight “unknown within the memory of the oldest inhabitant” of the sinks of political crime and slavery. The “high-water mark” of factious rebellion was completely transcended and obliterated.

The discontent and disaffection thus generated delayed not its manifestations to the ordinary period of partisan action. Within six weeks after the action of the newly installed municipal government of the city, the incipient action was taken. At midsummer, a new political body was complete in its existence and organization. For the first time in the history of American politics, a third party was actually formed, capable of sustaining itself in being, after innumerable similar efforts in previous years had only brought their parentage into deserved ridicule, from the despicable character of the insignificant, lifeless abortions which had been thus produced. Through the summer and autumn of 1843, the work of formation was carried on by vigorous hands. | The character and source of the movement can be sufficiently distinguished by the date of its origin. The defeated party was, by nature and habit, incapable of an effort to rally immediately after such a stunning defeat, however caused. For any election of secondary importance, they could never organize until the last moment. Throughout that season, both the mass and the leaders of that party remained in complete inaction and indifference. Their ordinary movement began in the usual manner, at the usual time, within two months of the election. Of the new party, they knew nothing ; and the great majority totally discredited the reports of its progress and strength. They generally regarded it as a mere trick of the old enemy to divide them, and when assured that it would poll from 7,000 to 10,000 votes in the fall, declared it impossible that it could give over 2,000, and hardly probable that it would amount to more than 1,000. The meetings of the new party were kept up with great animation, and displayed a force derived almost exclusively from the ranks of the party which had triumphed at the Charter Election. Their most prominent leaders were persons recently conspicuous as the worst and most malignant enemies of the party previously in possession of the city government—suddenly turned into hostility to their former associates by the manner in which the patronage of the corporation had been exercised to their exclusion. Disappointed office-seekers were the nucleus of the organization, and the directors of its policy. They availed themselves of the sectarian rancor of large portions of their old party, revived religious feuds, and successfully appealed to the envy with which the lowest order of native laborers and shop-keepers regarded the cheap competition of those who from their foreign birth and servile breeding, were capable of existing at much smaller expense than those of republican origin.

The outcries of bigotry and intolerance, before unknown to republican America, were borrowed from the political vocabularies of the Old World, which has not yet learned to exclude from the affairs of the commonwealth, those questions which pertain only to the church,—which continually degrades religion by forcing its interests into contact with the selfish purposes of unprincipled office-seekers and office-holders, and ever seeks to make those things subjects of legislation that are truly only matters of opinion |554| and moral suasion. “Miscere humana divinaque”—“to mingle human things with divine”—was an outrage upon the conscience and judgment of man unenlightened by revelation, revolting to the moral sense of even the Roman of that corrupt age which is blackened in the memory and records of the human race by the betrayal and death of classic democracy. To American republicanism, had hitherto been given the peculiar honor of marking and maintaining this vital distinction, by the obliteration of which for 2000 years, man’s terrors of the retributions of the next world had been made the means of his degradation, ruin, and enslavement in this. The new party was a foreign party, in every lineament of its physiognomy, and in every circumstance of its origin. While it usurped and blasphemed the name of “American” and “republican,” it derived its principles and policy from brutal British bigotry and the bloody lawlessness of Swiss and German revolutionary radicalism. Its incipient movements were aided by the presence of foreigners, who thronged its assemblies at all times, furnishing the watch-words of the new faction, and giving the key-note of its anthems, the responses of its blasphemous orgies, from the exploded formularies of disbanded Orange lodges and of outcast European fanaticism. Learning from such teachers the mode of associating religious jealousies with political advantage, the native grog-shop-keepers, rooted out of their richest wallowing-places by the competition of German Schlossen, Zum-what-not-Stadten, and Bier-Hausen, Gast-Hausen, &c., innumerable, of jaw-dislocating and throat-rasping roughness of designation, rushed into the movement for the exclusion of foreigners from all offices of trust and profit, including that most responsible privilege of dealing out liquors at three cents a glass under the authority and appointment of the State. Thus met in new war the before harmonious elements of bigotry and vice from both divisions of the world, while, over all, the coldblooded, calculating spirit of democratic American office-seeking fraud presided as the inciting and directing cause, and made the Bible the stepping-stone and footstool of political power.

The most ignorant and proverbially fanatical Protestant sects, (a large majority of whom are always associated with the political party which panders to envious | vulgarity,) joined, almost en masse, in the foreign war-cry of “No Popery”—a sound novel to American ears. They were soon joined by others, connected with them in but few points of religious association, and sympathetic only in hatred of a common enemy, not in Christian “love of one another.”

The result of this attempted “consort of Christ with Belial” was, that in the autumnal election of 1843, with 5000 votes drawn from the ranks of the party of corruption, were given 2800 from their old opponents. The ordinary agencies of “the old plan” of fraud were freely employed ; and “the regular ticket” of the corruptionists received a little less than 15,000 votes, on an average, while the ballots of the faithful, law-abiding portion of the community amounted to a little more than 14,000. The loss of 5000 votes to one party was more easily repaired to it than that of 2800 to the other. The first had but to extend its system of fraud ; the second, repelling the thought of such agencies, had no remedy or preventive of evil but vainly to present the unity of its cause—the necessity of the exclusion of all local, temporary, extraneous issues, on the eve of a great national contest.

The Charter Election of the spring of 1844, the very year of national destiny, opened under these auspices. The two old parties organized and acted as usual. That which had the lawful majority could but present to its usual supporters the plain fact, that the retention of their full force at the previous autumnal election would have given them every office, besides the moral effect of a plurality in the city, with the evidence of a division in the ranks of their opponents. But such representations were made to those who were worse than deaf and blind—to many who were ready at any time to sell their votes to whatever party would raise the value of any property then in their hands—State stocks, real estate, or anything else—men who were ever ready to betray their country’s interests for their own temporary gain. Yet, surprising as it may seem, each one of these men would have considered himself insulted by an offer to betray any other moral obligation for money—as, for instance, to sell the honor of his wife, the liberty of his child—but only because, in so doing, he would destroy his domestic peace, and mar his selfish gold-bought comforts.

|555| Thus was the preliminary contest of that eventful year heralded. Ten thousand true voters were pledged to abide by their principles, even to the rising of the sun on the election day. Fifteen thousand were equally resolved to give their ballots to the new party’s candidates. The gamblers and speculators in elections had noted these movements, changes, and pledges, with a wary eye. Twenty thousand votes would be more than enough to secure victory to the ordinary agencies of fraud, in this position of matters. Trusting to the political honor of those whom no wise man will ever again entrust with his personal interests, hopes, or fame, they staked their money freely and boldly, and lost it as freely. Between the rising and the setting sun of that day, 5000 votes were changed, which reversed the destiny not merely of that day, but of the age.

Not a gambler or a cheat that lost his money on that issue but rose the day after both “a sadder and a wiser man.” Barclay Street and Park Row were half-beggared by the result. Yet, when in a politico-religious controversy, the Five Points and Corlaer’s Hook were, for the first time, arrayed against each other, what speculator in politics could safely judge ? Who could have known, except by examining both sections on Dens’s Theology and the Assembly’s Catechism, that one was Popish and the other vehemently Protestant ?—when “democracy” was divided against itself—this part declaring that they would be damned if they would have the Bible in the schools, and that part swearing that they would be damned if they wouldn’t.

The history of that folly is already written, closed and sealed. Few will care to remember that the party which thus originated, expired at last in a sort of collapsed stage of a moral spasmodic cholera, having so exhausted itself with repeated vomitings forth of the undigested abominations which it had too hastily swallowed, that it was finally destroyed by strangling with an ineffectual convulsive effort to disgorge the nauseous remainder.

The gamblers, and the leaders, and candidates of the ejected party were rendered desperate by the result ; but when they are desperate they are dangerous ; for “desperate men do desperate things.” Few of them had ever seen darker hours for their political prospects or their pecuniary hopes. They saw | around them a divided party, defeated by division. They saw its all-destructive energies, baffled without, (notwithstanding the aid of treachery which they had encouraged in gibbering folly,) grown Self-destructive, scorpion-like turning its venomous and deadly sting upon its own vitals. They saw arrayed against them in brighter hope and more united force than ever before, even when on the eve of unparalleled victory, the millions of a host invincible by any honest and legal means—mighty not only by the power of democratic numbers, the prosperous harmony of all orders and occupations under beneficent protective legislation, and the nobly vindictive courage of patriotic spirit conscious of real strength to assert and completely execute a just popular judgment checked in its incipient performance only by mercenary knavery and corruption,—but above all, exulting in the long-deferred opportunity to render justice and honor to the man of their enthusiastic admiring choice, deriving new strength and confidence in their renewed labors, from his towering greatness and pure renown. The whole party throughout the nation was united in singleness and community of purpose, in principle and policy, as perfectly as in the selection of their great representative.

These views and impressions of the prospects of parties were not confined to the defeated section in this city, but pervaded the minds of its leaders and guides in every portion of the country, but especially at the seat of the General Government. From the summer of the year 1843, the portents of their downfall and lasting exclusion from power had been multiplying ; and every new movement continued to distract and weaken them while it increased popular confidence in the fortunes of their powerful foes.

The certain existence of a rapidly increasing majority of the States and people against them, was known and considered in their secret councils from the highest to the lowest place. Contemplating the threatened defeat as the complete annihilation of their party and the ruin of all their schemes of personal ambition, the oldest and greatest of that formidable league of corrupt, unprincipled and desperate politicians did not for a moment hesitate to seek the invention and employment of unlawful, wicked means, by which the constitutional majority of the people could be overwhelmed and the |556| public judgment be falsely declared from the polls. No man knowing the character of those men whose political fortunes and personal interests were thus depending on the result can believe them incapable of any enormity of fraud and corruption which they might deem necessary to save their party from destruction and themselves from powerless obscurity. They had all been trained and habituated for years to falsehood and the most wanton disregard of the principles of morality and honor in their relations to the public. The accomplishment of a political object, the success of a party, is always considered by such men as a purpose so good in itself as to justify all means necessary to that end, or at any rate to make crime a matter of indifference or trifling moral importance.

At an early period in the year 1844, the fact of a deficiency of votes in a majority of the States for the candidates of that party (whoever might be nominated) was communicated among the responsible leaders and managers all over the country ; and the sense of the necessity of supplying that deficiency by fraud was simultaneously impressed on all, while the publications and organs of the party in every quarter studiously maintained a stout show of confidence in a certain victory by the lawful suffrages of the people. The directors and agents being duly possessed of this fact, took care to obtain first a just and veritable estimate of the actual numbers of the lawful voters of their own party, and of those opposed to them. After doing this was assigned to the same partisan agents, or still more trustworthy and respectable men selected as their representatives, the mighty task of creating in all the various practicable sections and counties a fictitious equivalent to the small lawful majority of voters positively known to exist against them in each. This measure, or system of measures was, through safe and determined men, put in operation in every part of the United States throughout the year 1844. Before the 4th of March in that year, the plan was completed, and was in incipient operation from the extreme northeast to the remotest southwest. The direction was central. The apparent origin of the scheme was in the National Capital ; but there were some in the great original seat of fraud, who knew from what source the primary suggestions of the scheme had proceeded, who could trace in the | history of New York legislation and in the character of a peculiar portion of a New York population, the composition of details suited especially to previous political emergencies in this great school and scene of political crime.

The associated gamblers and criminals of the city of New York had for many years maintained a peculiar connexion with the cognate fraternity of political adventurers and speculators who formed the nucleus and directive agency of “the party” here. Distinct in organization, though often possessing some members in common, these two sub-communities of knavery had subsisted, each in its own sphere, but in a sympathetic contact, productive of reciprocal profit incalculably great, and consequently accumulating durability by duration.

The gamblers had long been in the habit of paying to the responsible agents of the party with which they were thus associated, a large sum of money just before each election, as a consideration for secret political intelligence upon which they could make their betting calculations, and also as a means of bringing about the purposed effects which constituted the certain details of success. The authorized General Committee of the party made an exact, thorough canvass of the actual lawful vote of the city just before each election, and, upon that, decided how many spurious votes were wanted to secure practical results, and where they were wanted and could be desirably bestowed. They could announce to their secret allies, with great precision, the real majorities against them ; and then they arranged with them, in like precision, the exact apparent majorities in every ward or district, which were to be produced by their joint means and agencies in the manufacture of false votes. The sum raised by the gamblers, and contributed to the party treasury as their equivalent for secret intelligence, was $3000 in the spring of 1844, and did not much vary from that amount for some time previous. This both paid the expenses of the laborious preliminary canvass, and furnished means for making good its deficiencies by illegal ballots. The gamblers could also furnish the instruments and agents of fraud from among their retainers and dependents. All the powerful influences of the lawless and criminal class of the community were within their reach. The consciousness of a common character and purpose, |557| connecting them securely with those who avowedly lived by statute-breaking villany, was a tie of irresistible, mutually attractive force, which enabled them to communicate always with perfect confidence and safety. They could therefore, at the briefest notice, call out an auxiliary legion as prompt to execute the measures of fraud as their patrons were ingenious to design, invent or direct.

With the information thus distinctly furnished, the gamblers could always make the business of “betting on elections” a game of skill and certainty to themselves—a game of chance only to fools. The number of lawful votes belonging to each party in each Ward, the number of absentees, of doubtful and undecided voters, the number of illegal votes required and secured to produce the desired majorities, the amount of those majorities in every instance, with an exactness varying only by tens in a Ward, and by hundreds in the whole city—were all fixed data foreknown to the gamblers and “sporting characters” through revelations thus given. The secresy, vigilance and activity necessary to the safe and sure retention of these matters among the favored class, were easily maintained by a body of men with faculties so sharpened and disciplined by continued exercise in unlawful, dishonest pursuits. Honest men, or those habituated only to pursuit of gain by open, respectable business, would be, intellectually as well as morally, less capable of the tasks involved in such an undertaking. The secret might escape, by occasional relaxation of the needful self-restraint and caution : the needful measures would be often neglected ; and the execution of deep plans would often fail by deficient arrangements, if they were left to any men but such as were occupied habitually in concealing their own gainful violations of the law of the land and of the decent usages of respectable society.

The importance and value of the business of betting on elections made it worthy of the expenditure of time, money and labor which was so freely lavished on these preparations. It opened a much wider and higher field to the operations of the craft than was furnished in the dark dens and closely-curtained saloons of the professional gamblers and their victims. Long usage and the tolerated irregularities of high political excitement had made this form of gambling nominally respectable,—a little more so than | the same operations on the race-course. It was the most dignified and respectable variety of the gamester-craft, sanctioned by the public example of many of the most honorable men in society. Editors, high office-holders, merchants and others of well-established character, in both parties, encouraged it by word and action. The vice was excused, or justified, on the ground that it was necessary to offer and take wagers publicly, in order to evince, to the doubtful and wavering portion of the community, a proper confidence in the success of the party, and thus to retain many votes which are always reserved to the last, and are then given to that which appears to be the strongest side. Under these pretenses and influences, were brought within the reach of professional gamblers, many who could in no other way be induced to put themselves in the power of such persons. Thousands who would gamble in nothing else, gambled largely in politics, without shame or scruple, and eagerly rushed into this disgraceful competition with the outcasts of society, till, for some months, the whole country seemed turned into one great race-course, fancy-stock exchange, or gaming-house, where the slang of jockeys, brokers, faro-bankers and thimble-riggers was converted to the expression of political chances, displacing the decent language in which patriots and republicans were wont, in better days, to speak of the dangers of the commonwealth and the duties of the citizen. In all places of public resort, in the streets, the hotels, the oyster-shops, every political discussion was almost inevitably terminated by the tender of a wager from some of the gamblers or their agents, who were continually prowling around, and seeking to provoke or worry incautious men into “backing up their opinion with their money.”

The effect on the result, designed and soon produced by such operations, was this. At least half a million of dollars was offered, pledged and secured to the gambling fraternity and their political coadjutors, by the professed friends of morality, order, peace and protective legislation, upon which they might draw, a few months after sight, to pay all the expenses of the election. A much larger amount than this was staked ; but this sum was early secured to the professional speculators in elections ; and it was for them to decide how much of this amount it was necessary to anticipate in expendi-tures |558| to insure their bets. Five hundred thousand dollars ? With half the money, they could beat the strongest candidate ever presented by any party !

The knowledge of the existence of a powerful majority of the people, equivalent to a similar majority in the electoral colleges, against the party of corruption and fraud, had caused deliberate preparations on their part to nullify the popular will, in the very opening of the year 1844. At that time, their prospects were darkest ; and it was amid the alarm of multiplied and accumulating defeats that their desperate resolution was taken never to be defeated for lack of votes, though they lacked voters. In the National Capital, while external dangers and internal strifes shook and rent that once formidable party almost to dissolution, was formed the most awful conspiracy against popular liberty ever known since that of Catiline. The more imminent the peril of that threatened overthrow with its consequent damnation, dreary, hopeless, irretrievable, eternal—the more energetic was the movement to avert such destruction, and the more reckless were the actors as to the moral character of the means necessary for their preservation. This, the details, in due time and place forthcoming, will show.

The spring of 1844 brought a material change of events and movements,—especially of those which centred in the commercial metropolis, by the organization of a “third party.” Originally operating only to the division and injury of that corrupt party which had been in the ascendency in 1843, had been made, by treachery and folly, a means of disorganizing and weakening the other great party, which was then making preparations for the mighty contest for the recovery of the power in the nation and State, that had been meanly stolen from them after they had so nobly won it in 1840. The original nucleus of rejected office-seekers, in whose revengeful and envious covetousness the new party had its origin, might have been content to secure the overthrow of the faction from which they had seceded, by withholding their 5000 votes from their old associates, and thus allowing the just cause of the other party to succeed. But a want of unity and confidence prevented that unfortunate party from availing themselves of such an opportunity. Unable to appreciate the strength and advantage of their position, they were led to abandon | it and assume all the responsibility of that malignant hostility to naturalized citizens that originated the new movement, and which was before confessedly imputable only to a revolted section of their opponents. They at once sacrificed that respectable portion of the naturalized voters whose confidence in the justice and wisdom of their policy was then strong and fast increasing, and drove them to hostile measures of self-preservation. The coalition with an unprincipled faction, on the assumption of a new and un-republican principle, was fatal to the rising energy of the great national cause.

But while many were induced to commit this folly in thoughtlessness and ignorance, there were others who in part foreknew and purposed the evil. There was a small body of men nominally connected with the betrayed party, insignificant in numbers and influence, odious to the great mass of their old political associates from their opposition to the Presidential candidate who had for years been justly regarded by millions as the representative and embodiment of their principles, and as the man most capable of realizing their hopes and effecting their objects. This little faction, knowing that they had nothing to hope from the man whom they had so long opposed, and so often sought to betray, beheld with small satisfaction the prospect of his election without their aid, in a manner which would render him free from all obligation to them. Few though they were, they were formidable by their great wealth, being almost the only persons in the city who were both able and willing to employ their money freely in politics ; and it was their desire and policy that the party with which they were connected should be so placed as to triumph only by their assistance. As soon as the new movement attracted their attention in the autumn of 1843, they saw in it at once the means of creating a powerful independent force, and sought to make the third party a rallying point for their future operations. They joined the new faction, encouraged it by word and by pecuniary contributions, and labored vigorously to give it firmness, consistency and permanence. Their object was to wield a mass of votes which should be essential to the success of the National party with which they were formerly associated, and to elect to the State and National legislatures a separate |559| body of representatives who would hold the balance of power, and keep the President in check, unless he should yield to their dictation or recognize their claims. Looking still farther forward, they saw in the new party a basis for their operations on the next succeeding Presidential election, when their own favorite candidate, obnoxious to multitudes of his former associates, would be enabled to stand on his own peculiar ground, as the champion of a new cause, independent of that which he had once deserted. These purposes would have been accomplished, but for the success of the system of fraud which was put in operation for the defeat of their enterprise, as well as of the National party on whose triumph their own objects depended. Such a defeat they did not anticipate. They were so confident of the success of the great candidate, that they had imagined it safe to diminish his strength, in order to make him seem to owe his success to the votes which they claimed to control through the new party.

This fatal movement was marked by the desperate foe—so vigilant and suspicious ; and they did not fail to use all means to profit by it. They immediately roused the whole mass of adopted citizens throughout the Union to a sense of their danger from the success of the new coalition. They everywhere denounced the proposed exclusion of naturalized citizens from office and from the elective franchise, and placed themselves boldly in view as the protectors of the threatened rights of that portion of the people. They thus secured to themselves, in solid mass, many tens and scores of thousands of voters totally indifferent to all other political questions in comparison with the vital interests of their own class. Thousands of educated foreigners, who were before content with a residence under the protection of equal laws, and had neglected the privilege of voting, now rushed with animated zeal into the great political struggle, in which they would otherwise have taken no part. Many others, whose strong personal admiration of the greatest man of the nation had always made them resolve to aid his election, were suddenly driven back from his support by seeing his friends associated with their avowed, malignant enemies.

Management was also used, by the same direction, to prevent any loss to their Presidential and Gubernatorial tickets from the adhesion of their dissatisfied | partisans merely to the third party’s nominations for Congress and the State Legislature. Very little effort was necessary. The new party avowedly left its members free to act with their previous political associates severally, in the election of the executive officers of the State and General Government ; and they did so. Whatever encouragement was given by knaves to dupes in regard to any proposed “bargain,” by which the third party should give its votes to the Presidential Electors of one of the two National parties in return for votes given to their candidates for Congress and the Legislature, no man of sense needed any argument to expose a cheat so palpable. There could be no bargain where but one of the parties had anything to give. Every member of the new faction was at the same time a devoted adherent of that one of the two parties with which he had previously agreed, on all points save the boasted “one idea” of exclusion of all but natives from office. There was no power in the coalition, or in any set of men, to transfer a single vote from one of the two original parties to the other ; and, since the election, they have declared that fact, and gloried in it.

The action of the great National Conventions of the two parties, for the nomination of candidates for the Presidency, which took place in Baltimore in May, 1844, had in both instances a great modifying effect on the aspect of the contest. In the first case, the nomination for the Presidency had fortunately been forestalled by the action of the people themselves, and was not entrusted to the hurried decision of an accidental assembly of ill-advised political aspirants, collected but for a day or two, and subjected to the management of a few artful manœuvrers and prejudiced, envious, shortsighted intriguers. The nomination for the Vice-Presidency, notwithstanding the woful experience of the time, had been left by the party, without reserve or instruction, to be determined by an incompetent body, who, in conformity with a principle almost universal in its application, hesitating between the three prominent candidates, solved the doubt by hastily throwing their votes for another whose claims had been but for two weeks suggested, and had never been canvassed. They nominated a most eminent, patriotic, and able man, of a fame so nobly elevated, that envious malignity had despaired of reaching it with calumny, yet |560| of a worth so modest and unobtrusive, that jealous ambition had never been aroused among his political associates by a competition for public honors with his exalted and immaculate excellence. The honor, unsought and unexpected by him, sought him, and was forced upon him with a power that left him no course but calmly and conscientiously to assume and sustain the responsibility. Through all the fiery trials of that merciless contest, he passed, with a purity unscathed, untouched. The only reproach uttered against him by the most malignant and daring political enmity, was—the imputation of virtues, good works, and religious merits, by which he was “made meet to be partaker of the inheritance of the saints in light,” rather than to share the earthly dominion of “the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience.” A better or purer man, one more unimpeachable, or unapproachable by falsehood, could not be named—“his enemies themselves being judges.”

But the introduction of the name of such a candidate, at that peculiar moment, so critical in the evolution of the destiny of the nation and the world, was fraught with consequences most unfortunate and mortal to the hopes and purposes of the age. Timing, as it did, with the recent organization of a new party, between the two great natural moral and political divisions of American society, which developed a professedly religious and sectarian element, before dormant in civil relations, it bore the seeming of an attempt to conciliate, and associate with a cause already strong enough in its moral position, a faction base in the mercenary and prejudiced motives of its origin, and soon defiled with the blood of enslaved, alarmed victims of superstition, and blackened with the smoke of burning churches, in which God, the Son of God, was devoutly, though impurely and ignorantly worshiped. It aroused, moreover, in a hundred thousand hearts, the pulsations of a long slumbering animosity to certain peculiar forms of religious benevolence, with which that pure and honored name was associated. For, this enlightened country, like all Christendom, held within it many, who though gifted by God with the full knowledge of their duties to the commonwealth and to themselves, in all their noble relations to their race and kind, as affected by the action of republican electors, of sovereign yet mutually dependent freemen, had never | raised or widened their spiritual vision to the view of a Christian philanthropy, vast as the moral necessities of the world, and boundless as the interests of eternity. There were many, faithful and true to their country and their political duty, not prepared in Providence for this assumption of novel and untried responsibilities, whose warm and loyal hearts shrunk from this announcement of a name already half-forgotten in its connexion with temporal interests, and cherished only from its association with the honor of Him whose “Kingdom is not of this world.” That name added no strength to the cause of wise and righteous government, while it took much from it. Multitudes devoted to the faith of Rome, and others holding tenets not technically orthodox and evangelical, were led to forget their sense of duty to their political principles, by a new dread of promoting the triumph of what they considered heresy, bigotry and fanaticism. Though thousands were faithful, notwithstanding any or all of these deadly influences, “faithful even unto death,” tens of thousands were driven from their only associations with the cause of peace, purity, justice and truth.

The melancholy moral of this movement was—that the first duty of all Christians in their political relations is to regard the unity of the cause,—to be content with giving and seeking only such votes as belong to the civil objects which they profess, and never to attempt to conciliate unpatriotic religious pretension, by offering to make such atonement for sin falsely imputed by disguised infidelity. It taught all who beheld and experienced the consequences of that wanton and vainly guileful scheme, that the basest and most wicked hypocrisy is the “homage” thus paid by virtue to vice, in comparison with which, common hypocrisy, “the homage that vice pays to virtue,” is holy and honorable.

That nomination to the second office of the Federal Republic invited the repetition of every imaginable exploded calumnious device against the personal moral character of him who needed to ask no forgiveness of his country, which he had served so faithfully, however to the neglect of what every sinful man owes to his God. The professional gamblers, debauchees, cheats and murderers instantaneously broke out in accusation of a man who, had he been a thousand times worse than their lying slanders represented him, might have well denied their competency to judge him, |561| by saying to his profligate accusers—“Let him that is without such sin among you, cast the first stone at me.” Faithful and blameless in all his personal, domestic and social relations—unstained by even an imputation of falsehood, dishonesty, deception, double-dealing or hypocrisy—famed throughout his life for scrupulous compliance with every public and private engagement, and for the careful discharge of every pecuniary obligation, either legally expressed or remotely implied—frank, sincere, generous, unsuspicious, confiding, and boldly truthful—he presented in his character a model of many virtues especially rare among Americans, and nobly worthy of imitation by the rising generation of his enthusiastic compatriots, in whose hearts he reigned with an unequaled power, founded on love, reverence and respect for his moral traits, as well as on admiration for his great intellectual endowments.

The gamblers, the speculators in fraud, the abettors of peculation and perjury, the shameless slaves of intemperance and licentiousness, the habitual cheats and liars, the extortioners, smugglers and dishonest bankrupts—all combined their means, and made pecuniary contributions to print and circulate papers and tracts on “the Morals of Politics,” in which the character of the Presidential candidate of the party opposed to them was exhibited to the religious and conscientious portion of the community, as stained with the most odious, degrading vices, blackened with revolting crimes, and flagrant outrages on decency and piety, with corruption, treachery, deceit, mercenary violation of public obligations, and with a multiplicity and variety of wickedness unparalleled in any instance on record. While under agencies thus originated and directed, the consciences of rigid moralists and Evangelical Protestants were disturbed and perplexed, the jealousy of Papists, Liberal sects, philosophical sceptics and infidels, was kindled to perfect fury by similarly studious inventions, circulated among them, as to the bigoted zeal and gloomy, exclusive Calvinism of the candidate for the Vice-Presidency. From the nomination to the Election, this double system of calumny was in operation on the prejudices of the various religious divisions of the people in every county and town in the Union. Herod and Pilate, the Pharisees and Sadducees, the hypocrite and the blasphemer, were united in the harmonious enforcement of this | monstrous scheme of scurrilous abuse and sneaking detraction.

The grand plan of operations concerted before the close of 1843, and communicated in every portion of the Union, where an effort was needful and practicable, required, first, a complete and exact secret registration of the whole actual force of their own party, and of the other—with an estimate of the effect of all new causes, then in continuous operation, tending to increase or diminish either, and with due provision for the repeated correction of this account of moral agencies down to the very eve of the great election. The primary political position of each individual in the mass, as determined by his opinions, judgment, self-interest, prejudice, passion, or personal feeling, was but one item in the account—the fundamental element of the calculation. The final solution of the great problem was attained by numberless additions and subtractions of “disturbing causes.” The influence of new questions (not originally partisan) as to “protection,” naturalization, “annexation,” was duly measured and reckoned. The operation of one-sided imputations made by themselves was also carefully weighed—of the terrors of abolition at the South, and the hatred of slavery in the North—of the abhorrence of fanaticism and hypocrisy by infidels and rationalists, and the dread of imputed immorality and licentiousness by “the most straitest [sic] sect.” The effect of the attempted formation of a new “third party,” and of the abortive coalition, was also counted ;—all these varied agencies working for the diminution of the natural force of the party of peace, and to the increase of the party of corruption—without a single exception.

To establish and maintain, in their own party, a solid basis of action, by securing through all these influences, and others unworthy of mention, a substantial mass of genuine legal voters, was another essentially important measure of the grand plan. To fix with equal exactness the veritable vote of their opponents, was of the same necessity, and, in like manner, indispensable to the advantageous formation and successful management of the best-arranged scheme of fraud. If the cheating game were tried on both sides, there would be an end at once of all certainty in the operations of politics. Thence, the unaffected horror and alarm excited among them in 1840 by the discovery of suspicious and supposed criminal movements |562| made in 1838 by some persons connected with the opposing party in New York, in the introduction of voters from another city. If that party should cheat, and should organize a permanent effective system of frauds on the elective franchise, what would become of the party which justly claimed a monopoly of the business, and a patent-right for the machinery, on the ground of having invented and first used it ? Every effort was therefore made by them, especially by those most active in fraud and most interested in its results, to prevent all danger of any renewal of such attempts by their opponents at that time or subsequently ; and they succeeded in that prevention to their own entire satisfaction. They have never pretended to suspect or accuse their adversaries of these crimes since. Those upon whom they then succeeded in fixing suspicion have since been excluded not only from the confidence and favor of their own party, but from all hope of power or reward in case of its success. The term “pipe-layer” now remains on the party to which it was first applied, whose more open frauds and least criminal tricks, it was first manufactured to designate. In October, 1840, the party then in possession of the city government and corporation patronage, boldly stepped forward, and took possession of the business of conducting the waters of the Croton into New York city, which was before that, in the exclusive possession of the party then commanding the patronage of the State. The construction of the aqueduct was originally under the direction of commissioners appointed by the State government, then in the hands of the party opposed to that which ruled in the city of New York. The Common Council, on the eve of the Presidential Election, assumed the power of constructing the channels through which the water should be conveyed within the bounds of the city. Large companies of foreigners were immediately employed in digging trenches for the large iron pipes which would be required, two years later, when the aqueduct and reservoirs were completed. The work was totally premature and unnecessary at the time ; and the purpose of the managers of the City government, in thus introducing large bodies of foreigners from other places just before the election, was so apparent, that the workmen employed in “laying pipe” were instantly pointed out as the instruments of designed fraud ; and the “pipe-layers” | were continually spoken of as non-residents brought in to give illegal votes. The term was subsequently thrown back, transferred, and applied by the guilty party to their opponents, in connexion with frauds said to have been committed, two years before the term was invented, by the party which always directed every power within its means to the prevention, detection, and punishment of fraud.

The word “pipe-layer,” which had acquired its infamous signification from this flagrant abuse and cheat, was perverted by the fraudulent, to the purpose of fastening opprobrium and slander upon their opponents, as a part of their scheme for deterring them from ever attempting to resist fraud by fraud. The vote on one side must always be a fixed quantity, ascertainable by a fair canvass, in order to enable the other party to introduce illegal votes with any reasonable certainty of success. This basis of calculation being secured, the problem is extremely simple and practicable. Given—the exact number of voters of one party, (for instance, 20,000,) and the exact number of the other party (for instance, 17,000,) the solution is—3,000 illegal votes, to counterbalance the majority, and 5,000, &c., or any other number additional, requisite to overcome majorities in other sections of the State.

Having surveyed the position of the two great parties and calculated the effect of agencies then in operation on public opinion, the managers and directors of fraud proceeded early to make a diligent canvass and enumeration of the legal voters of each party everywhere. In the city of New York, in the spring of 1844, this secret census stated the whole number of actual qualified electors, at 44,000. However surprising to many this result may seem, and though much smaller in proportion to the whole white population than is found in most other political divisions of the country,—a careful examination of the various classes of people in the city will confirm this statement, which, though often disputed and condemned, was always repeated and firmly maintained by those acquainted with the facts of this private enumeration. Its probability appears stronger as the inquiry proceeds to the exhibition of the vast number of persons resident in the city who, from various causes, are excluded from the elective franchise. There are in New York many thousand resident |563| adult white males included in every census, who are not qualified as voters under the State Constitution, as “citizens of the United States who have resided in the State one year, and in the county six months.” A vast transient population, inhabitants of hotels and lodging-houses, and other places of temporary abode, come hither on a venture, seeking a fortune or seeking employment, who, after a few weeks’ or months’ experience, return to the place whence they came, or to new scenes of trial, disappointed, and acquiring nothing but sad experience in the sober realization of the vanity of human wishes. Every great city abounds in temporary residents of this description, varying in rank from the literary and philosophical visionary, and the speculator in pecuniary enterprises, to the professional man, the journeyman mechanic and the day-laborer ; but New York, from the metropolitan renown of its wealth and power, and its reputation for furnishing splendid opportunities of success to adventure and industry, is continually inundated by rash experimenters, confident of establishing a residence and securing wealth or subsistence—in numbers beyond the calculation of those who have not carefully observed this peculiar transient population. Many thousand foreigners annually landing here, after a few months, and many more after various periods less than five years, grow wise by the vain expenditure of their little means, and pass on to other places and regions, where labor is better compensated and more in demand, and where the necessaries of life are less costly. Multitudes of these unfortunate strangers die here from want, or the effect of change of climate and habits. The burials in the ground devoted to interments of persons connected with the Popish sect, amount to more than 29,000 within the last twelve years, (averaging fifty-four a week in 1844) and those in the “Potters’ field” to more than 10,000, (1400 in 1844, averaging twenty-four a week,) making of both these classes an average of not less than 4,000 per annum, a large proportion of whom are naturally male adults. There are also many thousand seamen registered as residing here, of whom not one-sixth are in port at any election. All the inhabitants of sailor boarding-houses, wherever registered, are also included in the nominal population of the city at every enumeration. More than a thousand of those whose home and property are | here, may be found in Europe and other parts of the world, traveling on business or for pleasure, though properly returned, as veritable citizens, in the census. There are also more real residents of New York absent in the country and in other States, at any one time, than can be mentioned in any other place, on account of the wide-spread and important commercial and financial relations of the city. Many foreigners of the higher order, permanently located here, refuse to be naturalized, from prejudice or indifference. Many causes exclude others in large numbers from the exercise of the right of suffrage ; but those here specified operate to much more effect in New York than elsewhere.

The number of legally qualified voters being fixed at 44,000, by actual canvass under secret direction, an enumeration or estimate of those who will not vote at any one election, was then made and subtracted. The number of those who, from peculiar habits, opinions, scruples, fears or religious singularities, (with those prevented by disease, sudden domestic calamity or accident,) though regularly entitled, fail to vote, is stated in the secret enumeration as not less than 2,000, leaving 42,000 as the gross number of lawful ballots deposited in one day, when every practicable voter is brought to the polls. Of these, in 1844, the secret canvassers claimed about 20,000 as the whole number of actual voters belonging to their party, supposed or professing to be connected with them. To their opponents, they allowed the remainder—about 22,000 lawful voters. They declared, also, that the opposite party would, in one way and another, commit frauds to increase their vote, when such momentous interests were at stake ; and they pretended to estimate this fraudulent vote at 2,500,—making the total hostile vote 25.000. They pronounced it necessary to increase their own strength to about 28.000, or, as it was generally stated to the gamblers in secret, before the election, from 27,500 to 28,500. It was supposed among their subordinates, that 8,000 or 10,000 illegal votes, in the city, would be sufficient to give them a safe preponderance on the ballot for Presidential electors, and would be decisive of the general result in the State and the Nation.

This supposition, or estimate of the vote in New York city, was made up some months before the election, and was |564| communicated to the gamblers, as the basis of their operations ; and before the election it came to the knowledge of some persons in the opposing party, engaged in researches into the frauds known to be purposed by those who could succeed only by such enormities. It is very incorrect, in many particulars, and was probably designed to be so by those who furnished it. The only particular in which this secret programme coincided with the actual result, was in the statement of the vote of the apparent majority. The final official returns gave that party 28,296 votes for their Presidential Electors. The other party had 26,385 for their candidates,—a material difference, not accounted for in the estimate. The estimate of the whole lawful vote of the city, (42,000 and 44,000) was—though improbable, and so apparently untrue, as to be discredited by all hasty readers—quite correct. The statement of 20,000, as the lawful vote of their own party, was totally untrue—known to be false by those who made it. Their true lawful vote was some thousands less. From 42,000, the true (though incredibly small) number of legal voters, take 26,000, the actual number of votes given by the other party—the remainder (16,000) is the veritable statement of the whole number of constitutionally qualified electors, who, at the time when this enumeration was taken, belonged to that party or were induced to vote for their candidates. There was a small unintentional error, though the greatest was intentional. They (as might naturally be expected from bitter partisans, however careful) underestimated the vast latent power and influence of that mighty name that was the hope, the encouragement and strength of their opponents ; and they also underestimated the degree of contempt with which their own pitiful nominations were regarded by many hundreds of the more intelligent and respectable of their own partisans. But the great difference between the statement and the truth, was made by a deliberate deception, practiced by them upon their allies and auxiliaries, the gamblers,—the speculators in political chances and tricks, without whose interested cooperation and hopeful aid they would have failed of securing some of the essential conditions of success in their stupendous inventions of political crime. If they had presented to their kindred cold-blooded community of crime the exact truth—had they announced | to them that out of the lawful votes of the city their adversaries would give to their great candidate 26,000 votes against the paltry 16,000 which would constitute the whole force displayed in support of the insignificant, nameless creature of accident whom they had been compelled in desperation to oppose to him, they would have been deserted by the whole mass of these formidable auxiliaries, the “sporting characters” and betting men. The gamblers were to be duped, if necessary ;—deceived, they were, at all events. The gamblers knew nothing of the great plans of those who thus operated upon them. They were not trusted with the details, but were assured (and insured by pecuniary pledges) that the party of fraud should poll not less than 27,500, and probably as many as 28,500 ballots, perhaps some thousands more. They were told that their opponents would not give over 25,000 votes, genuine and spurious. Many were, therefore, on this information, induced to bet on 3,000 majority in the city ; and some of the most sagacious and experienced lost largely by staking a great amount of money on 3,200, which was considered safe by the most intelligent, until eleven o’clock, A. M., on the day of the Presidential Election.

The first great object in thus enlisting and interesting the gamblers, was to cause them to pledge their money to the success of the apparently weaker cause. When the unexpected and offensive result of their nominating Convention in Baltimore was made known here on the first of June, not a wager was offered in its favor, or could be obtained on any terms, for some time. Their politicians received the intelligence with unconcealed disgust and despair. No gambler even thought of speculating on the chances of a nomination thus viewed and received. But this hopeless inactivity did not long continue. There was a mysterious gigantic agency already in vigorous movement, which had been organized some months previous, for the purposes of another Presidential candidate, whose peculiar, devoted, and confidential friends were alone entrusted in this city with its direction and execution, or with the knowledge of its existence. Those who had toiled in its construction, and continued operation thus far, though linked in feeling and in their fortunes with the prospects of one man, under whose control they moved, were |565| yet not devoting their time and energies merely to the success of a favorite chief, or a party, or a cause, or an abstraction. Personal devotion of his followers to himself was a quality never expected or sought by that leader. Political attachment, secured only by disinterested preference, respect or admiration, however well-founded, is a tie too frail and uncertain for the dependence of a life devoted wholly to official employment, profit and advancement. A more practical and lasting bond of union, in spirit and action, was found in “the cohesive attraction of public plunder,” as it has been somewhat too bitterly styled by a man eminent for his disappointments in attempting to control it. The advancement of the principal was promoted and secured only by the guarantees of a business-like compact, by whose faithful execution his supporters and assistants were to be compensated in case of his success, in stations graded according to the amount and value of the service rendered to the general enterprise, and the number of years during which fidelity had been maintained. Political enthusiasm was discarded in these vital arrangements of the true origin of power, and displaced by a safe, unpretending, ever-wakeful, and unvarying motive.

The arrangements thus carefully prepared under the direction of such powers, were not demolished, nor long suspended, even by the overwhelming change in the aspect of public affairs produced by the action of the National Convention in rejecting the candidate for whom and under whom the scheme had been prepared and put in operation. Brief counsel and communication sufficed to secure the complete transfer of the entire obligations, pledges and secret agencies of the rejected candidate to the new substitute, conditioned upon which followed a like transfer of all the services, duties, and mysterious machinery of his supporters from the first to the second. No disturbance of the parts of the great and complicated system, or of their mutual arrangements, occurred. All arrangements, from the highest to the lowest, in an instant moved on unchanged.

At this moment it was that the communication was opened with the gamblers, to secure their cooperation, intelligence, and sympathetic interest. They were told that by large bets at present odds, or “even,” a sure result could be obtained, so contrary to actual public expectation | at that time, that none but those initiated in the secret movement would dare take the risks, and that thus a magnificent monopoly of gains, unparalleled in all the operations of chance, skill or fraud, would be secured in a moment. These assurances were made decisive and unquestionable by furnishing therewith to the speculators as much evidence of the power of accomplishment as could be given without a betrayal of the agencies and details. No perilous secret was entrusted to mere gamblers and fraudulent adventurers. The information was given with every desirable particularity ; and the money was paid by them in return, not so much in the character of a fee or compensation for the intelligence, as by way of employing the means of making it effective and profitable. The money thus paid to the secret political agency was, in fact, but a form of insurance on the wagers taken with the knowledge of the movement. The gambler, knowing all, collects his available money, and goes about the city seeking the various bets which are offered on suitable terms. In all places of general resort and political conversation, he gathers up the random wagers of incautious partisans, and at every boastful declaration of confidence in the success of the greater candidate, compels the speaker either to suffer an implication of false professions, or to deposit his money in testimony of his courage and hope. “What will you bet ?” “How much ?” “I’ll take that bet !” “Put up your money—here’s mine ?” “Will you double the stakes ?” “Will any other gentleman make the same bet ?” “Any amount you please, at such odds !” These were the expressions passing thousands of times each day and night all over the city, while the gamblers were in this way “subscribing to the stock” of the new plan, and thereby providing for its successful operation. Many who engaged in this speculation to the largest amounts did not appear personally in the negotiations, but employed agents and runners to act for them with various sums, until the aggregated tens, fifties, and hundreds, equaled thousands and tens of thousands. The larger the amount of money thus wagered, the more was expended to insure the winning of it. Thus, abundance of means flowed into the treasury of the secret council to supply all the requirements of the enterprise. It had been first organized and begun upon money derived from other sources. |566| Its continuation, in the summer and autumn, was largely dependent on these liberal contributions, which, in fact, were paid, or were subsequently to be paid, by their political opponents—were actually only advances made by the gamblers on what may be considered the drafts or notes which were to fall due after the election. Every silly, mercenary member of the opposing party, who thus thought to put money into his pockets by betting upon what was then indeed the certainty of the success of his eminent candidate, did in this way serve to support and promote the operations tending to his defeat. If the foolish, bragging, betting friends of that great man could have been content with the certainty of the accomplishment of the one great object on which the public and individual good alike depended, it would have remained a certainty. The whole result was not effected but by their mean and pitiful folly, in thus becoming at once the agents and the dupes, the beasts of burden and the victims, of those whose money they themselves were expecting soon to receive and enjoy without rendering an equivalent. The tolerance of this despicable and dishonorable vice of betting, this vilest and most immoral and mischievous form of gambling, cost the nation all it has lost in that momentous struggle ! Let every man in the land, who bore the least part in this great mass of stupid wickedness, take to his conscience his share of the responsibility, and remember, with self-abasement, this unsearched, unrepented, unforgiven sin. In whatever day the people’s retribution may come—in ruin, misery, blood, or infamy—let him share the evil, and confess his agencies in its production—and “let this sit heavy on his soul” in that dark to-morrow !

But the political action of the gamblers was not limited to this very simple series of operations. They did not content themselves with merely furnishing the means, and leaving the work to be done therewith by those from whom they received this information, trusting that the prediction would be accomplished by the prophets. It was understood, indeed, of course, by those who invoked their cooperation and animated their hopes of gain, that the gamblers, “sporting-men” and criminals, were to exercise in their own way, in natural fellowship, their usual arts in the business of elections. Wherever pecuniarily interested in the |result of a political contest, they employed their own peculiar agencies to secure such a result as would accord with their arrangements for winning. They had been accustomed to rely on the General Committees of the party, not only for intelligence of the movements and majorities designed, but also for direction as to the mode and amount of frauds to be accomplished by their own action. Under the operations of the “Old Plan” of fraud, had grown up a new branch of business, a regular profession,—the manufacture of spurious votes by associated or individual enterprise. A large portion of the gamblers had assumed and invented a trade, which may be styled—that of “Election-brokers.” Suppose that a man, one familiar with their abominations, wishes to be nominated by the regular convention or committee of the party, and then to be elected against any dissatisfaction created among men professing decency and moral principle. They contract with him first, to secure his nomination by packing the Ward meetings with rioters ready to mob any man who opposes him,—and next, to elect him, by bringing to the polls the men who will put into the ballot-boxes as many votes as are necessary to give him a plurality. The extensive and multifarious character of such operations, implies a necessity of a classification of agencies, and naturally suggests, as in all great systematic inventions, “a division of labor.” The “election-brokers” therefore have, what may be called “contractors” under them, who engage, for certain stipulated sums, (to be paid after the official returns of the election show the work to be properly done,) to furnish the required majorities, to carry particular Wards and districts, so as to secure the success of the candidates named, and guarantee the bets thereon pending. The election-brokers, after due arrangements with the political managers and candidates, having ascertained the exact legal canvass of the section in question, go to their agents, who, for reasonable considerations, contract to do the needful work. The subordinates call out and enrol their gangs of voters, led by their several directors, (termed “captains of squads,”) and issue orders for their location and employment. The bargain is generally made in these terms :

“I have bet——dollars that——will have—majority in—Ward or district. If I win it, you shall have half.” A small pecuniary advance, |567| by way of “retaining fee,” designed also to furnish certain preliminary disbursements at the drinking-places where the rank and file are to be found and enlisted, is, generally, a matter of course. The “captain of the squad” picks up his men, the ragged vagabonds, the jail-birds, the criminals, the hopeless and friendless victims of vice and want, who rejoice in the elective franchise as their means of waging that revengeful war on society in which their misery finds bitter satisfaction, when they see the prosperous and respected classes humbled and defeated. These “enfans perdus” are provided with their temporary homes, each with several lodging-places in different election districts ; and are encouraged with liquor and frequent little gratuities, which make them to know their friends. They are schooled in their duties, and are told, from whom they must receive their ballots on election-day, and under whose direction they must deposit them. Many hundreds of them are wholly uneducated, and are consequently unable to read a single letter, or distinguish a name on the ticket which they carry. Such men must know whom to trust, when they offer a ballot ; and they are content to know that they vote as pleases their true friends, the enemies of the aristocracy, the advocates of “the largest liberty.” The man of business, the merchant, the employer, the professional man, feels that he has done a great work when he has deposited his one vote, and goes to his ordinary occupation afterwards with infinite self-satisfaction, as a patriot who has done his whole duty, and has deserved well of the commonwealth. The vagabond and cheat does more at the same moment, and, as he thinks, does better. Feeble and faint is the attachment to the elective franchise by him who votes but once in a day. The true lover of “the largest liberty” will offer his ballot as long as he can do so without question, and who will vote from sunrise to sunset, if unchallenged.

Who doubts this ? No man who is not willing to pass for fool or hypocrite, among knaves of his own breed, as well as among the whole community. How many men can be found in the city of New York within three hours who are ready, at five dollars a head, to swear an alibi, or that they are worth any amount of money necessary to make “straw-bail ?” How many “Tombs-lawyers” are there, regular members of the honorable | legal profession, who are ready to suborn that perjury ? How many men are there in this city who consider professional perjury as part of their regular means of a livelihood ? Having decided these important questions in moral statistics, let those who volunteer the answer, say—how many of these professional perjurers and practiced impostors are idle on election-day ? He who can answer these inquiries can give pregnant replies to some others in the same connexion. The sooner they speak, the better for the cause of justice and truth.

These are some of the materials of political crime created by the conditions of American metropolitan society ; and these were some of the modes of their employment in 1844. Details might be multiplied, but to no purpose. All these particulars belonged only to the “old plan” of fraud. As might be imagined, it was varied, modified and extended for the great vital emergency. All the agencies of crime were invoked in that final struggle, and were summoned to do their worst.

Under the impulse of occasion, thus suggested, old fraud developed itself in new forms of crime, and “sought out many inventions ;” yet it left much to be done—more than was dreamed of by many who thought themselves masters of the arts of villany. The whole resources of the old-fashioned plan were expended and exhausted. The business of fraudulent naturalization was prosecuted as long as any man of foreign birth could be brought up to swear (even though ignorant of the language) to five years’ residence, with due notice of intentions, of which, forged certificates, or those of dead men, were always in readiness for the first claimant. The business of “colonization” was also conducted by them with accustomed vigor and enlarged scope. As the law regards a single night’s residence in a ward or town or district sufficient, arrangements were made by which a large number of young men boarding in one district to the eve of the election were located in new lodgings in other districts on that night. Presenting themselves at the polls, if challenged, (as they would naturally be, from their not being in the preliminary canvass,) they took the oath and voted with full legal security against the pains and penalties of perjury. They then went at their leisure to the election-district of their ordinary residence, where, being personally well-known, or at any |568| rate included in the regular lists of voters by both parties, they might expect to vote without being challenged. This class of voters were mostly such as would refuse to perjure themselves ; and in every instance, where they were challenged they refused the oath, with pretended indignation at the implied suspicion and the apparently wanton insult of a challenge in a district where they were so familiarly known as legal habitual residents of long standing. In many instances, this character was so well played, that the challenge was withdrawn, even when given on well-founded suspicion. But wherever this form of fraud was foreknown, and the oath was insisted on by the challenging party, the apparently honest voters who were instructed to play this trick, walked away baffled without any subsequent attempt. It was a fraud not confined to the city, and was equally practicable in rural sections ; for the State constitution which requires of the elector one year’s residence in the State and six months residence in the county, leaves to every man the liberty of locating himself in any town, ward or election district, at the shortest imaginable period before he votes. All men who have no family, household or fixed domicile, all mere transient persons, lodgers in hotels and boarding-houses, can, therefore, legally change their homes from one place to another in a few minutes, and may safely swear that they are residents of every district in which they have lodged during the night previous, or intend to lodge on the night succeeding. This looseness of legal provisions has led to the notoriously extensive adoption, by both parties, of the practice of transferring voters of this description from sections where there are large majorities to those where the preponderance is small or doubtful. The law allows the inspectors of election to ask each man, under oath, “whether he came into that district for the purpose of voting at that election ;” but whatever his answer, if he afterwards take the general oath as to qualifications, his vote must be received. This description of imposture, however immoral and contrary to the rights of the true residents of any locality, has acquired such force by long usage, as to be deemed hardly requiring concealment or disguise, inasmuch as no conviction of a breach of the statute by such conduct could ever occur. As an evasion of law and a perversion of the elective franchise it had a continually demoralizing | effect on the community, and led the way to increasing enormities.

The penalty for illegal voting, or for the attempt, is merely a fine not exceeding two hundred dollars, or imprisonment for not more than six months. False swearing in these matters, like wilful perjury of any other description, is punishable by imprisonment in the State Prison for a term not exceeding ten years.

The old measure of bringing in persons from other places and States, to give fraudulent votes, was also revived, as far as practicable, though on a smaller scale, proportionally, than in some merely local elections. The election in Connecticut occurred on the day previous—in New Jersey simultaneously and one day additional—leaving little time for the transfer of voters except from a few of the nearer portions of those States. From Pennsylvania, where the election closed more than three days previous, a considerable number were sent to New York for this purpose. Attempts were also made to introduce some from Bergen county, New Jersey. This form of fraud, though not made of essential importance, was yet employed as far as was convenient and secure—on the general principle of “leaving nothing undone which could be done.”

These varied operations were sustained mainly by the gamblers, on their private responsibility. The regularly constituted representative bodies of the party styled “General Committees” had nothing to do with these matters as associations, whatever many of their members might do in other connexions. The business of naturalization was as usual, indeed, in the charge of a special committee throughout the season, and was made no secret ; but delegate associations were not allowed to have anything to do with the mysteries. No man of tact or experience could ever suppose that elective assemblies like these partisan delegations were capable of keeping secrets so vital to the cause. The General Committees in that party were outside show, successfully designed to deceive the public and many of their own members, who were silly enough to imagine them the veritable depositories of the mysteries and the seat of directive power. The great essential work and control was in other hands, wholly unknown to most of them. In both the great political parties, membership of these bodies is sought as an honor by silly office-seekers, who imagine that it is a station which gives them dignity |569| and influence, and strengthens their pretensions. A large number of the members are therefore totally incompetent to their supposed duties ; and no party secret could be safe among them. The committees are useful for certain forms of proceeding and parade, and for some actual work—for the calling of public meetings, the publication of addresses, the ordering of “nominating conventions,” for directing and superintending the preliminary canvas ; but that is all. To the deeper and more important business they are a mere screen.

Similar in their purpose and employment were the various voluntary associations and “clubs” of pompous designation, which attracted so much notice during the great contest. The systematic employment of these was a secondary suggestion, caused by accident, and promoted by the folly of the newspaper press of the opposing party, which gave them a distinction and usefulness not before suggested to the managers. The most notorious of these, of whose performances, real and imaginary, so much has been said, was formed in a mere drunken frolic by a vulgar and ignorant throng, who sallied from a spacious grogshop in Barclay street, on the night of the 4th of July, 1844, on a sudden impulse, and after marching around the streets awhile with drum and fife, resolved to form a military company of a partisan character, to which they proposed to give the style of “Guards,” prefixing the name of the favorite drinking-shop where the inspiration of the movement originated. It was soon joined by a few ambitious ruffians, one of whom was soon made the head of it ; and at his suggestion its designation was altered to that of a “Club,” for purposes of political display. About eight professed pugilists were added to it ; and a large number of notorious felons and convicts mingled with it. The criminals generally were soon taught to regard it as their own peculiar association, and with these and the gamblers, and many weak young men, aspiring to the reputation of great wickedness, it soon swelled its numbers to between 1,000 and 2,000. After figuring in a few meetings and processions, it acquired such notoriety from ill-advised and unnecessary denunciations of it by the organs of the opposite political party, that it was recommended to the managers of its own party as a valuable auxiliary, and was thenceforth regularly | employed and paid as a fighting-club, to bully and assault peaceable citizens, to create riots, disturb meetings and processions, and create among the floating mass of the people the impression that the superiority of physical force was on that side of the question. That much-denounced Club, the object of so much notice and alarm, was a mere bugbear and stalking-horse, used to frighten the opposing party, and keep their vigilance and alarm occupied so as to withdraw attention from the real agencies of mischief, and cover the most formidable movements from view. For the purposes of fraud, the Club, composed in large proportion of the most notorious ruffians whose faces were familiar to thousands, was perfectly useless, and was never used ; though great pains were taken by its members and backers to give the impression that they were organized for that end. They were too ignorant, silly and noisy, to be capable of playing their part in any scheme requiring caution or art. Not one of their leaders had the intellect for such work, and their only office was that of obstreperous brutality. They were gladly used by the party managers as a show and means of violence, and as an object to occupy the anxiety and watchfulness of their opponents while the great work went on in secret. The Club was to the opposing party what the red flag is to the bull, who madly rushes at it in the arena, while the matador securely and quietly thrusts the sword into his spine as he passes the real danger to assault an imaginary foe.

In this protracted statement, has now been set forth a mass of agencies apparently capable of producing any amount of fraud on the elective franchise which might be desired by those who employed them. Some thousands of illegal votes were thus deposited in the ballot-boxes of this city and similar places at the Presidential election. The precise number need not be stated here. The great question is—“were they enough to make the great result what it was ?” The eves of the guilty agents of the mightiest scheme of fraud and the truly effective crime, will strain anxiously and fearfully over this paragraph to learn whether the threatened revelation of their crime ends here ; and great would be their satisfaction—high their exulting confidence, could they at this point be told—“this is all !” But it is not all. Conspirators ! Monsters of crime !—already fattening on the prey brought |570| down by the secret shaft ! The bloodhound search that you smilingly think you have eluded, has tracked you to your inmost den. Up and look to yourselves ! for the avengers of a nation’s blood and tears are already upon you.

All these that have been disclosed thus far are but the vestibule and courts of the temple. Open now the penetralia of the horrid sanctuary ; and behold

the mystery of mysteries !”

In the month of February, 1844, was fully begun in New York (and elsewhere) this plan. A hundred men (so stated in round number) were in secret organization, under the style of a “Council of Peace,” and were in the laborious performance of several specified functions with one common purpose. They obtained a careful enumeration of all the legal voters in every election-district, with the proportions of political parties. They secured the collection or responsible pledge of about $20,000 as a commencing capital stock, drawing this large amount mostly from a few persons of great wealth and high standing in the community, absolutely devoted by prejudice or interest to their party, and resolved to retrieve its then failing fortunes and secure its success, by any and every means which might be necessary, without consideration of the legality or moral propriety of the same. Their assurance of the observance of secresy between them and all persons concerned, and of the exact application of the money to the assigned purpose, was derived from the pledge of the approbation and supervision of the plan by a few distinguished persons ranking above themselves, and above all. The object proposed was—not the probability—but the absolute certainty of success in the pending contest for the supreme power in the State and Nation, which was guaranteed to the contributors on the one hand by the unquestionable authority of men beyond distrust, and on the other hand by the perfection and irresistible power of the scheme itself. The money came forth, in large donations, from the long-accumulated hoards of covetous bankers, brokers and traders, and even from the treasured spoils of political victories, where individual wealth had been the product of partisan triumph. There was among them one man who, with very high honors, had also attained riches to such an amount that he could have contributed one-half of the | required sum without curtailing his abundance ; and had other sources failed, his hopes and prospects, as connected with the final object, would have made the donation of the whole apparently a profitable investment of his capital. There were others who had derived large fortunes from party favor and government patronage, to whom singly the entire sum would not have been the tithe of their accumulated profits. There were others, totally unconnected with public employments and political honors, who saw their private interests so far involved in existing legislation and its desired changes, that they promptly and willingly gave one thousand dollars each, in the hope of depriving of the benefit of Protective duties all who produced at home what they wished to introduce from abroad, and of destroying all revenue legislation for the benefit of every class, except those who “go down to the sea in ships and do business on the great waters.” Several importers and great shipowners gave their thousands to effect the ultimate removal of all restrictions upon foreign trade, except the imperative limitation of that portion of it in which they were interested, to vessels owned or employed by themselves. There were some such who, but for the enactment of the present revenue laws, would have remained in their original connexion with the party which they abandoned and denounced for having extended to others the discriminative regulations before enjoyed by themselves alone—justifying their avarice, by impudently declaring themselves opposed to the Tariff in principle, meaning thereby—interest. As to the uses for which their money was designed, they sought not to be informed. They paid it as a fee for certain services to be rendered to them,—a compensation in advance, for promised benefits,—an ordinary, “fair business transaction.” Commercial morality, commercial honor, exacted no further investigation of the mode in which their donations were employed. Though fraud, brutality, perjury, were the means, and though national infamy, and ruin, and war be the result,—each of them, like the Roman procurator, will wash his hands, saying “I am innocent of this blood.

The professional gamblers were not yet called in ; for their season of usefulness had not come. But there were several devoted wealthy partisans, large contributors, who were as prompt and |571| acute to avail themselves of these opportunities for speculation by political wagers, as they would have been to secure the stock of a corporation whose speedy increase of value they had been privileged to foreknow. The donations were easily covered by bets corresponding in amount, based on the knowledge of operations in progress by which success was insured.

The tremendous exigency forced that unscrupulous party to the invention of new machinery and the employment of novel agencies of fraud. The vicious, criminal and infamous classes, upon whose action they had been accustomed to rely, were not competent to the perilous difficulties of the crisis. The respectable, “honorable,” unimpeachable men of the party, hitherto quietly profiting by crimes with whose details they were not supposed to be acquainted, and which they might know only by inference, were now compelled to come forward and put their hands directly to the wicked work on which depended their rescue from annihilation and oblivion. Each who hoped anything from success, whether high station, official honor and great endowment, power or fame, whether legislative action or executive patronage, brought his own peculiar gift to the common storehouse of munition. As the wealthy contributed their money, the powerful chiefs of the party brought together the fruits of many years of sagacious observation and instructive experience ; and the mightiest minds yielded their most subtle inventions, as the details will show. Over all was thrown the impenetrable cover and defense of a combination of respectability, supposed probity and external virtue, capable of defying suspicion and baffling scrutiny.

That great school of political crime which has had its seat in the city of New York and the Capitol of the State for a quarter of a century, and from whose poisoned fountains have poured forth streams of corruption through the whole Union, gathered all its terrible resources, enlarged its theory and its practice, corrected its rules, rehearsed its lessons, and strengthened the obedient confidence of its disciples. Its two great masters were in its councils, the two survivors of the three founders. Never was any product of the human mind more rationally and logically deduced from experiment and observed fact, than that peculiar science of political |roguery, for which New York is famous as the source. The origin was purely experimental, both in the Capitol as to the management of State affairs, and in New York city in the inventions of fraud. It was a perfect example of the Inductive Philosophy.

The sum of money required for a basis of operations and the canvas of the lawful vote of the city (obtained by the help of the old organizations in the General Committee and the Ward and District Committees) were placed by the “Council of one hundred” in the hands of a select executive body, a central Directory called “the Five,” though not implying by that title that only five persons were associated in this inner council, signory or cabinet. Five however, were always on duty, and active daily. “The Five” were invested at once and throughout with absolute, discretionary power. They called on the larger council (the 100) from time to time, for money, for information and for labor, and received all without question from them. They made these demands and issued mandates, directed all action, appropriated and expended money, but made no reports, and were held to no accountability to any person or persons whatever. Perfect secresy and irresponsibility as to their actions—was the first law of their organization.

Before the end of winter, in the opening of 1844, the Secret Council of Five had matured and put in active operation a plan which will be pronounced by the world the greatest product of human villainy. It has not a parallel or equal in the history of inventions.

Another hundred men (the exact number not being essential to the main fact) were carefully selected by the hundred before described under the title of the “Council of Peace,”—possessing certain peculiar qualifications, requisite to the exact performance of certain prescribed services, essential to the salvation and continued existence of “the party.” The larger council (gathered from every section of the city and almost every class in society) furnished the names of these individuals, after due inquiry and deliberation. The hundred picked men were required to possess these traits and endowments. They must be all young men, unmarried, between the ages of twenty-one and thirty, of such a personal appearance, physiognomy, complexion, bearing, air and deportment as would |572| render them exceedingly difficult to distinguish among thousands of ordinary men. They were to be men totally devoid of all striking peculiarity of aspect ; their eyes, hair, lineaments, stature, walk, and movements, were to be perfectly common-place. In dress and externals, they were to be alike free from anything that could excite attention, fix remembrance or cause identification by any ordinary observer. They were all required to be Americans by birth, totally free from all foreign peculiarities of accent, manner or deportment. As to occupation, and position in life, they were to be generally journeymen-mechanics, employed in large establishments, where there are few workmen known to all their fellow-laborers, and where the persons engaged frequently change their masters from fancy or irregular habits, without exciting inquiry or attracting notice. Journeymen in printing offices, in shoe-shops, tailor-shops, machine-shops, stone-cutters’ yards, masons’ and other builders’ employments, and so on, wherever large numbers of men are engaged for short periods, and change their location often, on slight causes or on none at all, without imputation of singularity. They were all to be quiet, unobtrusive, silent men, known to few, and disinclined by nature and habit to seek acquaintances or keep them. They were required to be strictly temperate and virtuous in their habits, wholly unknown to the vicious and dissolute, and never seen in grog-shops, or any places where irregular or troublesome intimacies are contracted. They were to be the most ordinary samples of the great multitude, as far as possible, wholly indistinguishable from the mass.

One hundred men of this class and description were studiously selected from thousands in the city, in the winter of 1843-4. It need not be stated that they were bitter, devoted, unscrupulous partisans, capable of any crime in maintenance of their political principles, which they could commit without danger of detection or punishment. They were the very embodiment of those horrid abstractions of political crime so long breathed into the ears of the people by the masters of the arts of hypocrisy and imposition. They were men imbued, from their very birth, and through their whole life, with envy and hatred of those more elevated and successful classes with whose interests the opposing party was believed to be associated.

These men, with many others of similar | character, named severally by individuals among the larger secret council, unknown as a whole to the whole body, were reported to the secret Executive Council of Five, who, after due examination and painful discrimination, selected the required number of those who gave evidence of possessing in an eminent degree the very peculiar combination of requisites. The chosen hundred were then taken, singly, into instruction by their employers, (personally unknown to them, and likely to remain so,) and were carefully taught the tasks required of them, while their compensation was assigned to them. First, they were engaged on regular weekly pay, with wages abundant for all their personal wants and for the exigencies of their new business, so proportioned that they should derive from it a nett income fully equal to the receipts of their ordinary trades and pursuits. This engagement was to last until the Presidential election, and was subject to a renewal for an indefinite period, on like terms, with a prospect of actual permanence. Next, they were called up singly by the secret Council of Five, enrolled, instructed in their duties, and drilled to their exact performance. They were directed to seek cheap lodgings in certain Election-Districts, selecting as their places of abode in each, such houses as were commonly occupied by persons of their own rank and condition, transient boarders and unmarried laborers. Each of them was furnished with a “book,” which was simply a piece of paste-board, stiff paper or leather, bent double in the form and size of an ordinary pocket “bank-book,” upon the inside of which was pasted a corresponding piece of firm white paper inscribed with a complete plan of the whole city, containing the boundaries and numbers of every Ward and Election District. With this “book” always safely placed on their persons, they were directed to go about, locating themselves from day to day in as many obscure boarding-houses as possible, each in a different district—in each place giving a different name, and then marking, on the plan of the city, the number of the house, the street, and the name under which they had taken lodgings. They were ordered to pay for their lodgings (at the rate of 6 1/4 cents—12 1/2 cents a night) regularly, and to assume the appearance of ordinary plain working-men, going in and out from time to time in such a way as to seem neither to seek nor to shun notice from the other occupants. They were to busy themselves |573| continually with visiting these several places of abode, and after having filled their entire list, were to be seen in each of them daily, or every other day, or as often as was physically possible—in the day-time, passing up to their sleeping-place as though for some small article left there—and in the night, apparently retiring to rest, and subsequently withdrawing in such a manner as to avoid suspicion of anything singular. They were to manage so that two days should rarely pass without their being seen in the house by the keepers of it, with whom occasionally they were to exchange a few words without contracting any intimacy—the object being to secure an impression on the mind of the person in charge of the house that his lodger was an ordinary, quiet person, of tolerably regular habits, but not to make him so familiar with him as to make future identification easy.

On a fixed hour of a certain day in every week, each one of these men was instructed to present himself to his employers at a specified place, generally, if not always, in a private house inconspicuously situated, and occupied by some person associated with the secret plan. The disciple was commanded to appear in every instance at the precise moment appointed ; as—if at a quarter past eight, P. M., he was to present himself exactly at that time—neither at ten minutes nor twenty minutes past eight. If detained unavoidably, he was to allow the appointment to pass and not to come again until his next regularly recurring stated moment of reporting himself. At these appointed periods, he stood in his turn before two or more of his employers, to whom (during the time he was engaged in fixing his various locations) he first handed his book, and reported the additional places of apparent abode which he had secured since his last interview with them. If he seemed to have been slow in the work, he was asked the causes of delay, and was admonished to use all practicable and safe despatch, because it was vitally necessary that in every instance, without one variation or exception, the apparent residences should be secured, and the whole number of multiplied false locations occupied, before the first of May, 1844. He reported his expenditures, on account for lodgings during the interval, and received his required portion of money for the ensuing period. He stated any noticeable circumstances occurring, or embarrassments or difficulties encountered, | and asked for any new directions of which he had felt the need. He received such repetition of previous instructions and such new counsels as seemed necessary to his thorough mastery of the art—was cautioned against any special perils of exposure incurred by any negligence or defect on his part, and sent forth to the continuation of his work.

The whole object of this gigantic plan and intense labor was, of course, to secure to this body of men, what should appear to any ordinary observation veritable bona-fide residences in the numerous Election-Districts assigned to them severally, and to have them so maintained, that the keepers and true occupants of any house so used, should be able, in case of investigation, to attest and swear, as of their actual knowledge, that the man in question was a regular permanent resident there—not a transient person or occasional lodger, but for nearly the whole year, and (as it would prove on inquiry in very many instances,) a longer time an inmate of the house than any other boarder in it—having (as all would sincerely witness) constantly lodged there six, eight or nine months, and regularly paid his board.

The necessary precautions against accidental identification by persons meeting them in two or more different places, were duly taken and continually multiplied. Ready answers to all casual inquiries from the occupants of the houses, from their own former acquaintances and fellow-workmen with whom they had once been employed in the same shop were also provided, rehearsed to them and laboriously impressed upon them. They were trained to constant vigilance, acute perception, quick observation, unobtrusive, unnoticeable demeanor, dress, air, language and tone. All their faculties were devoted unremittedly and exclusively to this one study and task. They were from the first moment of their engagement and enrolment, withdrawn from all other employment, and freed from the necessity of their former labor, by a steady weekly compensation in their new business. Their whole time, duly allowing what was needful for repose and relaxation, was occupied in this labor—first, of going about and securing lodgings, and afterwards, of visiting their numerous places of nominal abode daily, to keep up the appearance and formal evidence of continuous occupancy. If their landlords should happen to remark—“You have been away for two or |574| three days”—or “I havn’t seen you about, lately”—they were to answer—“Ο, I have a brother [or friend] who is a watchman in [some remote district,] and he has been unwell and I took his place for a night or two.”—Or “I have been sitting up with a sick relative or friend.”—Or “I have been to visit my father in the country,” &c. &c. The details of these artifices are interminable. To repeat all, would require a volume.

But at last comes the actual work of the great day, for which all this mighty scheme was prepared. On the day of election, the picked man presents himself at the polls in the district where he rises, and offers his vote. He appears to the inspectors and challengers a plain, simple, humble, quiet, decent laboring man, an American by birth, with nothing to distinguish him from the mass of voters. He gives his name and residence ; the challengers of both parties find it “all right ;” it is recorded in the canvas taken by each, weeks ago. In forty-nine cases out of fifty, his vote is received unquestioned ; and he passes unnoticed, forgotten in a moment, and for ever—wholly undistinguishable by the most discerning memory, among the hundreds of forms with which the wearied eye grows dim on that day. But—suppose by accident, ignorance or excessive caution, his vote is challenged. Does he offer to “swear it in ?” NO. He has been schooled for months to the prevention of the necessity of this crime. He has been strictly warned by his employers never, in any instance, to commit perjury. He merely assumes a look of surprise, mingled with a very slightly offended air, and respectfully asks—“Why is my vote challenged ?” Or “Who challenged my vote ?” “I am well known as a voter in this district. I have lived here steadily for almost a year. I have not slept out of the Ward one night in six months. If any gentleman doubts it, just let him step with me to the house where I board and satisfy himself. I shall take the oath. I am a poor man, and work for a living, and should like to vote ; but I shan’t swear it in.” “It’s the first time my vote was ever challenged.” “I am a native of this country, and have always voted since I was of age ; and now I’m challenged where hundreds of Irishmen, who havn’t been five years in America, vote without being questioned.” These expostulations are uttered in a tone, regular grading from mild remonstrance in the outset, to apparently | honest indignation at the close, with which he departs, if the challenge is not withdrawn ; but it is almost a certainty that the challenger would be satisfied that he had erred, or would at any rate yield to the adroit allusion to foreign voters.

If it were possible that in spite of all these precautions and artifices, he is suspected, accused, arrested—what then ? For this, too, has he been prepared, and if he is identified as having voted in two or more places, he knows that all the inventions and tricks of the law will be exercised to shield him. The best counsel will defend him, jurors will secretly befriend him, and judges in more courts than one, (who knowingly owe their places to the success of such crimes, and expect therefrom continuance or promotion,) will also exert every possible power to save him. If convicted, his sentence shall be the lightest, (six months being the utmost extent which the law allows,) and, if not pardoned by an executive officer equally conscious of the mighty crime, and counting on its repetition for future power and greatness, the prison shall be no injury to him ; he shall be paid for the time occupied in prison more than he can earn at liberty.

This is enough. Here is a masterpiece of fraudulent invention by which any required number of votes can be given at any future day, beyond all possibility of prevention, even when foreknown. Add the perjury, (which was not found necessary before) and what can obstruct the execution of the plan ? To follow and detect each man would make it necessary to send two or three men after more than two-thirds of the lawful voters of the city, to dog them from morning till night. It is absurd to think of prevention. As for the much-vaunted “registry law,” it would only facilitate the fraud and furnish additional securities against detection ; and it was, in fact, from the exigencies created by that law, that the first suggestions of this now perfect scheme were derived.

The great problem of American government is solved. Those who have invented, elaborated and perfected this mysterious and tremendous engine, retain control of it still ; and by it, they and their regular constituted successors will rule this land while the elective franchise exists in it. The revelation of the mystery is a detection at which they can laugh, in contemptuous security, safely defying attack and deriding denunciation.

 

The American Review : A Whig Journal…, Vol. I, No. V, The Mystery of Iniquity (1), May 1845

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[Extract of] THE AMERICAN REVIEW : A WHIG JOURNAL OF POLITICS, LITERATURE, ART, AND SCIENCE, Vol. I. MAY, 1845. No. V.—pp. 441–453

[Excerpt from Index to Vol. I. :] Mystery of Iniquity, (D. F. Bacon,) 441,—continued, 551.

THE MYSTERY OF INIQUITY.
A PASSAGE OF THE SECRET HISTORY OF AMERICAN POLITICS, ILLUSTRATED BY A VIEW OF METROPOLITAN SOCIETY.

The Mysteries of political history, occasioned by the imperfect presentation of the facts which are the essential causes of great public movements and events, are always numerous, not only in the annals of the past, but in the cotemporaneous [sic] records of the present. The journals of the day furnish little more than the actual results ; of the secret causes and agencies they give little information. In European history, this more valuable instruction is generally given in the “secret memoirs” of the various courts, and in the private correspondence of statesmen, princes, courtiers and intriguers. In the American Republic, this field is to be occupied by facts from sources less accessible. It is a department which may yet be filled. For the present, a single chapter may suffice, on one branch of the subject.

The machinery of election frauds in the city of New York, is a matter so important to the fate and history of the republican system, and yet so remote from the knowledge of even the most intelligent politicians, as to be worthy of special and elaborate notice in an “American Review,” on whose pages may be sought, in other times, portions of the history of the age, as evidences of the success or failure of this first experiment in practical democracy—actual popular self-government. That such frauds exist has long been notorious. No New York politician would risk his reputation for veracity and intelligence so far as to deny it. But of the details, the system, the extent of these operations, much remains to be communicated, even to those best informed and most active in the political movements of the last few years. The subject, however, is one not easily investigated. The success of these frauds was of course insured only by profound secresy [sic], and by subordination and obedience among the inferior agents, excluding each from a knowledge of any more than his own | guilty part. Those who alone know all, or enough to show the extent and character of the operation, are so prominent in position and in the profits of the iniquity, as to be above the reach of ordinary inducements to betray the facts of which they themselves were the chief authors.

The investigation is, therefore, beset with difficulties, tending to produce despair of success on the part of any who, believing the general fact, seek the particulars and the proofs. It requires singular gifts,—courage, energy and pertinacity, of a peculiar order, sustained by enthusiastic devotion to the cause of truth and justice, and by the hope and prospect of results mighty beyond prudent expectation. It demands, also, an exclusive appropriation of time, study, patience, observation and reflection, and forces the encounter of many annoyances and dangers, incurred by the necessary association with abandoned and desperate men, in whose experience the truth is contained. Money, too, as well as costly time and labor, is wanted, in amount beyond ordinary means, for uses which are |442| essential to the main purpose. Other requirements, all that can be imagined, are included in the conditions of success or even progress.

Guarded by these difficulties against the perils of inquiry and detection, the authors of these frauds have hardened in confidence, cool determination and impunity. After an election, the defeated partisans soon forget the inquiry into causes ; and it is impossible to arouse them to the painful labor of searching for the mode and means of their own irretrievable calamity. The fruitless contest once fully past, disappointment vents itself in vain curses ; and wrath soon evaporates in threats as idle as the wind. The combination of force kept up in hope of success, vanishes in defeat ; and the recently associated agents of the defeated party meet again only as strangers, until a new movement inspires new hope in another contest—while the victorious leaders of faction divide the spoils, with a security which can tolerate no feeling towards their baffled foes but indifference or contempt.

The great and manifold difficulties thus shown, as besetting such an investigation, have, in this instance, been met, by the possession of the means and qualifications enumerated, to an extent which can be better demonstrated by the results attained than by preliminary statements, which might seem prematurely boastful or egotistical. It is enough now to say, that the unremitting labor of many months has been given to this task, in total exclusion of all other interests and occupations ; and the facts are therefore presented, from the outset, with a confidence in the full mastery of the whole subject and its necessary proofs, which will be shared by all, as the development progresses.

The time selected for this revelation is peculiarly adapted to the accomplishment of its best purposes, and to the acquirement of the public confidence in its truth, and its independence of personal or temporary advantages. The great contest on which so many public and private interests depended, and which bore so many away from the control of moral principle by its powerful excitements—is now closed ; and its momentous, irreversible result has been registered. Not even a local object now remains to be promoted, either in the shape of a Charter Election, with its corporation patronage in view of the contestants, or a State election, with its higher gifts and dignities, with its gubernatorial | and Congressional honors and its influence on the National mind. The period between this and any future important action by popular suffrage will be so long, that no “effect” or temporary excitement could be produced, and no successful perversion or permanent mis-representation of facts hoped for. Whatever may be put forth seeming to any worthy of denial, confutation or condemnation, the date and circumstances “leave ample room and verge enough” to enlighten and correct public opinion, and vindicate all claiming a hearing or redress, before the judgment of the people has been pronounced in its only effective form—the ballot.

Equally is discarded every pretense of impressing the public mind anywhere with the sense of implied injustice done to any individual candidate or party or cause, by a decision wrongfully obtained or erroneously recorded. For the vindication either of the man or the people, such a demonstration would be valueless. Both are already placed on higher grounds. The character and principles of those who by their votes maintained the right, are enough, and are well enough known by all Christendom, to vindicate them beyond suspicion—and to maintain them in as much honor as ever accrued to wronged patriotism.

This investigation, its purposes, its possible consequences, have no designed relation to the advantage or prospects of any person. It is no appeal, no writ of error against the judgment of that tribunal which, right or wrong, renders the last and highest of human decisions. The whole inquiry is simply a post-mortem examination, with the purpose of ascertaining the cause of death and the manner and instrument of the crime, for the instruction and security of all who shall come after, that those who distrust the people’s sense and despair of justice from the public judgment, may derive encouragement from these evidences of a fraud in the mere means of declaring and manifesting that judgment.

As a contribution to the history of man, it wall be valuable ; and its worst developments will but elevate the character of the great whole, while they display the abominations of a few. Men of this and other countries, enslaved or free, will be the wiser for this unfolding of truths. All that was desired by the patriotic, the wise, the good, as to the moral significance of the late great trial of principles |443| and men, will be obtained in the fruits of this inquiry ; and it will place in history a lesson of renewed hope and fortitude to republican faith. With these facts established, the friends of liberty may yet rely on the just judgment of a free people, as to the best exercise of their power.

The cause, the manner and the instrument of the result cannot be credibly made known, until the nature of these agencies is developed, by an exhibition of the character of a peculiar and hitherto undescribed portion of the population of “the great city.” The resources of political crime are found in the social elements and combinations of the metropolitan community. The seat of actual power in this true democracy has long been the subject of a problem, yet unsolved. With the source of new principles and dogmas, origination of purposes, this question has nothing to do. But to ascertain the means of their accomplishment by the ballot, is an object at once momentous in interest and practicable in effect.

Within a circle of three miles’ radius, on and around the Island of Manhattan, may now be found nearly half a million of people. Very few of these know anything of the characters, pursuits or relations of their fellow-citizens. Society is here completely divided into classes, arranged generally according to occupations, separated from each other by distinctions of property, of employment, of association and habit. Business is the one great word which fully expresses the main object and leading idea of the community. It characterizes the mass, and gives the city all its greatness, fame, wealth and power. Absorbed in the pursuit of gain, the vast majority of the people are ever sedulously practicing the familiar precept, that “every man should mind his own business, and let others mind theirs.” The comparatively few who are devoted to pleasure and fashion exclusively, to mere expenditure without acquisition, constitute no distinct class here, and give character to no class in society. As far as wealth furnishes title to distinction, and justifies high claims to rank and influence, it is from resources increasing by thrift, not stationary by free use, or diminishing by extravagance. The richest here are still laboriously accumulating new riches by active “business.” No withdrawal from the pursuits in which their property was obtained could add to their dignity or share of public respect, | any more than it could to their happiness. The few idlers who “live upon their means” are but tolerated, not honored, among their more active associates, who rejoice in daily augmentation of affluence.

From the jurist, the professor, the divine, the banker, and the lord of a square mile of buildings, or of a score of floating palaces, to the industrious day laborer, whose hand hews or places the materials of the structures of wealth and pride, all conditions of men are here alike in purpose, and regard none as ranking above them because exempt from the wish or need of gain. Such are the mass of society—such in simplicity and unity of purpose, in patient, hopeful industry, in devotion to business, and in harmony of feeling and action. They are a very large majority of the permanent residents of the city, and, by natural right, and true democratic republican principle, should rule it and direct its power and influence in the government of the State and Union. But it happens that though they are many, they are not all.

There is a class remote in aim and character from these, alien from their sympathies, and indifferent or hostile to their prosperity,—disdaining their objects and pursuits, or despairing of success in them. Though the beneficent influences of protective republican legislation thus far make them few, they are formidable by their very smallness of number, and their consequent monopoly of the mighty resources of lawless adventure, fraud, violence and crime. In every great city, gathers a throng of men, desperate from various causes, of which want is the predominant one. With some, it is want of the absolute necessaries of life ; with many, it is merely the want of the abundant means of the gratification of vicious impulses and extravagant fancies. Most of them have, at one time or another, made attempts to acquire a livelihood or a fortune by honest, regular means, but failing of success, either by error or calamity, have concluded that those who secure comfort or wealth by lawful pursuits, do it only by knavery, carefully disguised in external respectability. The unhappiness induced by misfortune, takes the form of a peculiar misanthropy. They declare and believe that no man is truly honest, and that those who are reputed virtuous and high-principled, only seem so. This contempt of others, and others’ pursuits, relieves their pangs of discontent, envy, or despair, by raising |444| their self-respect, as they compare themselves with the distorted images of society which they have formed. Having decided that “there is no virtue extant,” they resolve that they are better than others in pretending to none—that they are peculiarly honorable, because they frankly and truly avow their dishonesty.

The principles thus formed, suggest and direct a life of adventure, recklessness, frequent dishonesty, vicious indulgence, and unlawful art. They become gamblers, gambling-house keepers, writers and publishers of obscene and licentious books and papers, sham-brokers, “Tombs-lawyers,” “straw-bail” men, “skinners,” “touchers,” professional perjurers, police decoy-ducks and “stool-pigeons,” receivers of stolen goods, sharpers, impostors, prize-fighters, mock-auctioneers, watch-stuffers, pocket-book droppers, brothel-owners and bullies, cock-fighters, dog-stealers, street beggars, and so on through innumerable grades and inventions of roguery, down to counterfeiters, pickpockets, incendiaries, highway robbers, and burglars. The English language, originally too poor to express all these abominations, has been enriched by the addition of new terms, coined or compounded to represent the novelties of crime in the American metropolis.

All these designated occupations, and more, not here specified, exist in New York, though unknown, even by name, to a large portion of the population. Various as are these forms of villany [sic], they all harmonize in principle and purpose. The actors in these crimes, strong in the consciousness of their numbers and common sympathies, constitute a distinct community, with rules and resources which make them formidable in every relation to the commonwealth, but especially in their power and influence in party politics. To understand their agencies in these movements, it must be noted that there are ranks and classes among them, distinguished from each other by the ordinary varieties of pursuits, associations, means, intelligence, manners, dress, and style of living. Though of one accord in principle, all seeking their own good by the injury of others, they vary in the means of accomplishing their radically evil purposes. The better portion of them (the better because pretending to less of worldly honor) seek their bare livelihood in avowed violation of the law of the land, which has its own means of efficient vindication. The worst | and most dangerous portion neither steal nor murder “within the statute.” Their crimes are moral, not technical. They take, without rendering an equivalent, their thousands, while the common thief but pilfers in units. The vulgar criminal walks in rags, while they shine in costly apparel and jewelry. The mere pickpocket meets swift and just retribution, and finds a felon’s punishment and infamy, and a felon’s dishonored grave ; but they triumph in wholesale crime, and flaunt their splendid livery of guilt among the noblest and proudest of the great republic. They even sit on the very throne of justice, and dispense its dread revenge on their meaner and more unfortunate associates, who are doomed to evince the terrors of an imperfect law by the sufferings of the prison, the manacle or the gallows. The children of misfortune, who alone are reached by vindictive human justice, are but the creatures, the tools of the children of extravagance and pride, whose more dangerous vices constitute the patronage and countenance of vulgar crime.

The whole class, thus characterized, numbers thousands of citizens of New York—all voters. It has hardly occurred, as yet, to those curious in moral and political statistics, to enumerate this unregistered portion of society. Their numbers, their names, their occupations, have no place in the “business directory” of New York, though their political and social action is felt everywhere. At the head of this great league and community of wickedness, and especially directing the action of the whole in politics, is a body of men commonly known by the term “sporting characters,” constituting the aristocracy of roguery. This higher class of adventurers are often found partially disguised under the nominal profession of honorable callings, such as those of brokers, lawyers, occasionally merchants and shopkeepers ; and some of them are proprietors, where they have managed their various unlawful gains with prudence. But all are gamblers, and derive their real profits from the resources of that infamous pursuit. In dress, manners, equipage, and all the externals of life, they are ambitious and ostentatious, often seeking to intrude themselves among the respectable classes of society. They keep fine horses, famous for speed and performances on the “Avenues” and the “Island,” driving them in elegantly modeled light vehicles, and compete with |445| wealthy country gentlemen and sportsmen in the breed of their dogs, in the finish of their guns, and the various apparatus of the sports of the field. Their tastes, amusements, occupations and characters, differ little from those of the profligate, gambling, sporting aristocracy of Britain, the members of the fashionable clubs of the West End of the British metropolis, constituting a large portion of the nobility and gentry, who, placed by hereditary wealth and distinction above the necessity of useful occupation, devote their lives to a laborious competition with coachmen, jockeys, dog-fanciers, blacklegs, prize-fighters, huntsmen and gamekeepers. Proud of this association of character and identity of pursuit, the American “sporting aristocracy” look down upon the honorable portion of their fellow-citizens engaged in the successful, though laborious occupations of the professions, trades, arts and commerce, with very much the same feeling as do the profligate lordlings across the water on the substantial merchants and mechanics of the city of London, and with quite as much real cause for their assumed superiority in the scale of being.

In the gambling houses of Park-Place, Vesey street, Broadway, &c., on all the great race-courses, often at the fashionable watering-places and summer resorts, at the concourse of political adventurers around the great seats of legislation, these characters are to be found exercising their gifts, and gratifying their fancies for pleasure or display—entrapping their victims, the heirs of great estates, or weak men, suddenly raised by speculation or other accident, to the possession of wealth. But these occupations, parades and pastimes, are secondary to their main business, and merely serve to fill the intervals of a more important series of engagements. To these gambling gentry, the great game is Politics. In its splendid combination of chances and boundless facilities for cheating, imposture and trickery, they see a worthy field for the exercise of their peculiar arts ; and they enter it with a cool confidence in their own possession of the needful qualifications for success in it, which places them beyond the competition of those less versed and experienced in corrupt human nature, less familiar with the agencies of fraud and crime, or less unscrupulous about their employment for such purposes.

| The larger portion of this class of men, hardened and chilled by their manner of life—with native sympathies and generous impulses destroyed, and with passions schooled into conformity to the most effectual means of their own gratification—regard the ordinary contests of political parties with as little interest in the pending issues, as they would feel in the ultimate prosperity of any corporation in whose stock they might speculate for a time, merely to transfer it to some incautious purchaser who might be induced to take it at more than its true value. Such, in the abstract, would always be their view of partisan strifes, holding themselves supremely indifferent to any circumstance but the chance of securing large gains by heavy odds in their favor on the results. Betting on elections is with them a study, or trade, or craft, the most important branch of their regular business ; and the mode of securing gain to themselves is the same as in those manipulations of cards and dice which to the dupe only are games of chance, while to the practiced cheat they truly are games of skill. Thus they play in politics, where the ballot is the die, and the voter is the card. They play at this game also with “loaded dice” and”marked cards.” And whenever they enter into the business of elections with money staked upon the result, they proceed with as much confidence in the production of the majorities on which their winnings depend, as they do in their gambling-houses, where all the supposed chances of the faro-table, the roulette, the rouge et noir, the dice-box, the cut, the shuffle and the deal, are converted, by their knavish arts, and secret marks, and mechanical contrivances, into positive certainties of fraudulent gain.

The recent developments of Mr. Green, the reformed gambler, in his various public lectures and communications on this subject, have made these illustrations sufficiently intelligible, and furnish abundant evidence of the universal dishonesty of the whole gamester-craft and profession.

Yet these men are not so artificial and impartial as to be totally without opinions and preferences in politics. The political bias of the whole class is instinctive towards that party which seeks power by patronizing crime, encouraging and defending lawlessness, violence and fraud, and which abuses the possession of power to reward, patronize and promote the |446| evil agencies which secure its success,—the party which appeals continually to the envy and prejudice of the poor against the rich,—which wars against the interests of “business men,” and against that policy of credit and protection by which are secured the rewards of enterprise, honesty, thrift and industry. Did every man in that community of crime act according to the principles and instincts of his caste, there would not be an exception to the universal application of the rule by which their associations in party politics are determined. But there are among them some, who, though identified with them in disregard of public opinion and the moral sense of respectable society, in irregular and adventurous lives and in depraved and sensual tastes, have yet some remains of an originally better nature about them, some dash of the heroic in their perverted spirit, some sentiment of true manly honor among those artificial notions of it which they share with desperadoes and outlaws. There are a few such, who, however degraded in principle and darkened in moral perception, refuse to follow the bent of their order in politics, and who, though indifferent on ordinary party questions, do occasionally act with those that seek to honor the honorable, and discard fraud and falsehood from their schemes and policy.

Though there is not one in a hundred of “the sporting class” who can claim this exemption, yet it should be regarded in a statement designed as this is to be exact in every particular. There are not known to be ten—it is hardly possible that there are twenty—of the gambling fraternity who differ from their associates in their political sentiments ; and these are consequently excluded from familiarity with the details of their political action.

There are also many hangers-on, occasional associates, dupes or pupils of the tribe, sons of respectable or wealthy people, falsely ambitious and dashing young “business men,” who frequent gambling-houses and similar dens of roguery and vice, but have neither experience, sense nor desperation to make them anything more than “honorary” members of the order, or to admit them to the mysteries of the craft. There are many thriving merchants, brokers, professional men, shipmasters and others of various respectable pursuits, including some from the country, occasionally here mingling with | these licentious banditti,—ambitious and even vain of association with them, but alien from their sympathies, and elevated above them in opportunities of gain without the plea of necessity for lawless adventure and infamous occupation. Totally independent of all these volunteers, both in counsel and action, are the class before described. Occasional but rare personal sympathies of character and habit render permanent their connection with these incidental associates ; but, in general, these are but their subjects and victims.

The characteristics of these different social classes embody the hidden elements of political principle and power—the secret of American political history. In the class of the adventurous, the vicious, the desperate, the lawless, the criminal—is found a unity of feeling and purpose, which pervades the whole in their moral association, without reference to accidental and often temporary and transient differences in rank, situation, and means of comfort, pleasure or display. Through all these widely-variant grades of villany,—from the aristocratic gambler and faro-banker in Park Place or Vesey street, down to the copper-tossing ragged vagrant of Corlaer’s Hook, the occasional inmate of Blackwell’s island and the brothel-bully and “toucher” of the Five Points or West Broadway, there extends a wondrous social sympathy, a conscious harmony of purpose and electric unity of action, not more fearful in aspect than woful [sic] in experiment to the honest, industrious, peaceful portion of society. Strong in this Masonic fellowship and secret mutual aid in violation of the public laws and morals, they fear not to attempt any crime, however startling to the popular apprehension, and however audacious in its defiance of municipal agencies of justice. The murder of the wretched Corlies on the most frequented corner of Broadway at the most stirring hour of the evening, only two years ago, was not effected without the deliberate premeditation and cooperation of a large body of this very class of men, who did not hesitate afterwards publicly to avow their approval of the crime and their resolution to screen the perpetrators at all hazards. Similar impunity has been enjoyed in other cases even more shocking to the public mind. Who does not know of the horrible case of the murder of Mary Rogers ? Her fate was and is no mystery to some. The author of that hideous, horrible, unnatural butchery of a young |447| and beautiful female was known then to some officers of justice, and is known now. Hundreds of criminals of that and minor grades are sheltered by the same awful combination of criminal agencies, and are discharged from actual arrest and imprisonment, often without form of trial, by collusions of judicial as well as executive agents in league with the secret community of blood and fraud. They stand to one purpose, and stand by each other in its accomplishment.

With such traits, connections and powers, this class become, in political movements, the lords of the land, the controllers of government, the arbiters of the commonwealth’s destiny. That they can be such is evident—that they have been and are such, will soon be shown.

Business men” continually assure active politicians who solicit their co-operation, that they “have no time to attend to politics,” that they “can take no part in it, because it injures business.” Those who have been herein described hear this and rejoice ; on this current declaration they base their action. They have time for it, and they attend to it for the business men. It will not injure their business.

Thus have the industrial and intellectual orders of this community prostrated themselves and their country before the mammon of unrighteousness. Thus have they forgotten and disowned their most sacred rights and duties, and left them to the off-scouring and scum of civilized society. Thus by them “the shield of the mighty was vilely cast away in the midst of the battle.” Thus, the interests of the people, unfortunately entrusted to the enterprising and respectable portion of the community, were by them betrayed in the hour of the commonwealth’s greatest need, the crisis of peace or war, of order or lawlessness, of the protection or abandonment of the interests of the governed by the government. Yes ! that very class—the self-righteous, self-wise, who most frequently exclaim against the imagined evils of universal suffrage, who so often lament the admission of the poor, the uneducated, the foreign-born, the vicious, and the criminal, to the elective franchise, and who would be glad to see that franchise restricted to themselves,—they, and “nobody else,” have proved themselves unworthy of a freeman’s birthright, and incapable of their share of the responsibilities of a republican government. The poor man always | votes. The prosperous man basely and indolently neglects this great duty in multiplied instances ; and even when he pretends to perform it, often makes it of no good effect, by a variable and equivocating ballot, thrown sometimes for one set of principles and sometimes for another.

Noting these facts and their practical bearing, with an acuteness cultivated by long experience, the adventurous and dissolute establish and defend their position in politics by an unanswerable reference to them. “Why permit the policy of the government to be directed for the benefit or protection of those who will neither act for themselves in politics nor second or support those who act and labor for them ? Rich and prosperous men, and those devoted to the pursuit of regular traffic, are almost universally selfish, narrow-minded, ungrateful, uncharitable. By the possession of these very traits they acquire their wealth or competence. They are glad to have the less fortunate work for them gratis. They never pay for service rendered, except in cases where the law can compel them. In buying and selling, in employing and paying the laborer, it is their rule to ‘take every advantage,’ to get as much more for their merchandise and money than its real value as possible, by misrepresentation, exaction, or the necessities of those who deal with them or labor for them. Men do not grow rich or remain so by generosity, truthfulness, patriotism, or high-minded consideration of the good of others and the common benefit of society. We, however, denounced by them as immoral and dishonest, and excluded from ‘good society,’ are free from many of ‘the vices of trade,’ though in our way we may often be less careful to keep ‘within the statute.’ We may cheat the world and violate the law of the land, but we never cheat one another as they do, and we never break our own laws nor disregard our rules and pledges of honor among ourselves. We esteem ourselves better gentlemen and better men. The higher classes, the privileged orders, the would-be aristocracy of wealth, would wheedle us and use us the day before election, and spurn us the day after.”

This is the common sentiment of this desperado class, and is often repeated in language almost identical with this. With these bitter things in their hearts and on their tongues, they take their position and movement in politics, assuming the power |448| abandoned to them by those whose injury and humiliation they seek. In their war on what is sometimes regarded as the patrician order, they are joined and often led by many who, like the betrayers of liberty in Rome, descend from their originally higher associations to obtain power by pandering to the prejudices of the ignorant, base, and vicious. The very language which Publius Clodius and Julius Cæsar, and Marcus Antonius addressed to the populace of Rome, and the artful appeals to envy and prejudice, by which they defeated Cicero, Cato, Brutus and Cassius, are here faithfully translated day after day, and repeated year after year—with the same effect,—by those who, in republican America renew the woful experience of republican Rome, and with literal exactness represent the purposes of those who then and thus secured, at the same instant, the triumph and the death of democracy, converting the people’s power to the people’s ruin. This striking analogy is not confined to the leaders of these movements, their arts of deceit, their language, and their purposes. The materials, the instruments, with which the American Clodii work are identical in character and origin with those possessed by their Roman prototypes, who, in the name of “the largest liberty to all men,” and with the pretense of “enlarging the area of freedom” by conquest and fraud, enslaved the people, cheated them of their liberties, and deluged half the world with innocent blood.

The Rome which Julius Cæsar ruled numbered not within its walls more human beings than are found on the shores of the great estuaries which surround the Rome of the New World. It had not a tithe of the wealth of New York, even when enriched by the spoils of the conquered Orient. Had that American intellect and enterprise which has here concentrated its mighty energies in the peaceful pursuits of commerce, trade, and useful art, but been directed by other influences in the path of war, by this time the Atlantic republic might have ruled by the sword, that half of the world which it now pervades with its traffic, its inventions in art, its moral influence, and its Christian charities. To the characteristics of its origin does it owe the difference of its destiny. The song of the angels when they descended to announce to men the advent of God incarnate, at the period of the census of the Roman empire in the acme of the second imperial Cæsar’s | triumph and power, was “Peace on earth, good will to men.” However imperfectly embodied here the spirit of that revelation, no man can reasonably doubt that its influences have been felt, not only in the foundation of the American commonwealth, but in the general direction of the wonderful power which it has here developed in the enterprises of peace. Yet, as has already been shown, the vices of peace have grown and flourished in this nominally Christian community, with a luxuriance equaling, probably surpassing, the vilest forms of depravity under the full influences of ancient heathenism. In the disregard of human life, and the insecurity of the rights of property, in the contempt of a solemn oath, in falsehood, deceit, and hypocrisy, and in numerous other immoralities, republican heathen Rome never gave examples of so abominable a character as New York. The dissolute classes with whom Catiline, Clodius and Antony associated, and whose support they secured in their political movements, in their conspiracies and riots, are reproduced with aggravated characteristics, in the dens of vice and crime which are found throughout this and several other American cities. The vivid pictures of those licentious and dangerous portions of the population of Rome and of their haunts, which are given by Sallust and Cicero, will strongly impress the considerate American reader with the sense of the dangers of like effects from like causes here.

The Mode and Means of the political action of these connected orders of crime in New York City, remain to be detailed. The present law of the State of New York regulating elections furnishes the basis and directs the manner of fraud. In 1840, the Legislature passed an Act relating to the Elections and the Elective Franchise, limited in operation to this city alone, by which the annual State Election in November was confined to one day instead of three, and the various Wards were divided into election-districts, each containing not more than five hundred voters, all being registered as qualified citizens at a fixed period before each election. The public registration of electors in such small sections furnished abundant safeguards against fraud, by giving opportunity and time for a rigid investigation of the legality of every vote by all political parties. The reduction of the time from three days to one, served under the registry also to diminish |449| greatly the facilities for illegal voting. The actual registration was, however, the vital characteristic of the law, and was essential to the purity of the ballot. Without it, the multiplication of the places of voting could only increase the means and opportunities of fraud. In 1842, the registration was abolished by act of Legislature ; but the provision creating small election-districts was retained, or re-enacted, and subsequently extended to the whole State. The one-day clause was also continued and made general ; but this, while in one respect it seemed to hinder fraud by preventing the transfer of illegal voters from one section to another at great distance, did, on the other hand, withdraw many checks by inducing the suspension of all inquiry into such crimes except on a single day. It is a well-known fact, that no party organization can maintain any vigilance, or make any successful inquisition into election-frauds, for the mere purpose of vengeance or of asserting the law. The moment the polls are closed, attention is totally absorbed in curiosity as to the result ; and when that is known, all interest in politics ceases. The victorious party do not care for the frauds which their adversaries have committed unsuccessfully against them ; and the defeated cannot be rallied to an inquiry so difficult and disagreeable. If the election continued three days, vigilance would be maintained throughout to the last. Nearly all the lawful votes would be deposited on the first day, which would of course keep the whole force of each party in the field, active and watchful. During the remainder of the time, when non-resident voters would naturally make their attempts at repeated voting, every effort would be made to impress them with a sense of the danger, by arrests and imprisonments, a few instances of which at the beginning would be enough to deter all volunteer cheating. The anxiety and interest prevailing to the final close of the polls would secure an unintermitted [sic] watchfulness which could not be frustrated except by violence and riot. Without a registration of voters, therefore, it would be better to allow three days for every important election, and to have the balloting places as few and as distant from each other as possible.

Thus when the registration was abolished, the multiplied election districts were retained. Why ? The answer will be easily furnished from the statements | following. But upon the very face of these modifications of originally honest legislation, is evident the fact that they made the facilities of fraud boundless, and gave to perjury perfect impunity, by rendering detection impossible.

The first division of the various forms of fraud, requiring notice in this memorial, is what may be denominated the irregular, spontaneous illegal voting, always occurring among the vicious, corrupt, and reckless of every party, and sometimes done by thoughtless men, ignorant of the moral character of the offense, and unacquainted with the penalty affixed by the statute which punishes not only the successful act, but even the attempt to deposit an unauthorized ballot. In this way, young men less than twenty-one years of age are often induced to offer their votes. Foreigners not yet naturalized, after having merely received a certificate that they have registered notice of their intention to become citizens at the end of five years, are frequently assured by individuals that they have already acquired a right to vote, and are brought up to the polls, informed on the highest legal authority, that they cannot be compelled to produce their naturalization papers, but may, without showing them, demand the oath of citizenship, and thus are made to commit unintentional perjury. Many American citizens who have not yet acquired a legal residence in the State (one year) or in the County (six months) in times of high excitement, are so far carried away from the recollection of the law and of moral principle, as to vote, either with or without urging—sometimes under oath, but generally only when they pass unsuspected and unchallenged. Legal voters, also who have deposited their ballots at the proper place, and are afterwards wandering about at random, from one district to another, sometimes will, of their own unaided suggestion, offer their votes at various polls, and if successful either with or without the oath, will consider the act as a mere joke, a smart thing of no heinously wicked character, and not perilous as to legal penalties. In all these forms of unadvised fraud, the recklessness and moral obtuseness created by the free use of intoxicating liquors at the time, is frequently an incitement and cause extensively mischievous.

These, and other varieties of illegal voting are such as arise simply from |450| individual impulse and action, without system, direction, instruction or pecuniary motive, and without the aid and security of any combination to prevent detection or punishment. They are, therefore, to be carefully distinguished from those which are the product of associated action, preconcerted arrangement, general plan, and partisan organization. They are practiced almost every where, but even in the city are quite insignificant in amount, and seldom effect any change in the grand result. Here they probably seldom exceed a few hundreds or a thousand, including all parties. They are also easily prevented by care, determination, and fidelity in the inspectors and challengers. Though of itself an evil of abstract importance, and giving painful evidence of corruption and want of principle, requiring remedy, yet this voluntary unsystematic crime vanishes from deliberate notice when presented by the side of the stupendous system of crime elsewhere displayed.

The second division of frauds on the ballot includes the whole scheme of unlawful action on the elective power, by party organization or by general direction or plan of any description. In this portion of the subject, however, occurs an essential distinction, and a classification, practical in its character, historical in designation. This is—the distinction between the old plan and the new plan of fraud,—which are the terms familiarly applied to them in the secret councils of their authors and agents.

The old plan consists of a variety of measures regularly put in operation at every important election before the passage of the Registry law—checked and partially suspended during the brief continuance of that Act, and resumed with great extensions, upon its repeal. Many of the contrivances are of very early origin and long-tried experiment, the date of their invention indeed being at this period a matter of merely traditional knowledge, having come down from “a time to which the memory of” politicians “runneth not contrary.”

The first measure adopted under this plan is to bring to the polls every man in the city at the time, who can be induced to vote their ticket, without possessing the legal qualifications of residence, citizenship, age, &c. All the legal voters of that party invariably present themselves with their ballots on election-day, without any necessity for effort to bring | out their legitimate force. The second is to bring in persons from other counties and States, for the express purpose of giving illegal votes at a particular election, returning to their own homes immediately afterwards. The third is the fraudulent naturalization of foreigners under the instigation and management of a regularly constituted Committee or Association of the party, by whose contrivance many foreigners, ignorant of the requirements of the law and sometimes even of the language of the country, are brought into the courts and are made to testify and swear—they know not what, in a great number of instances—all fees and charges being paid by those who direct the fraud. To bring to the polls all who can be induced to vote under oath upon a mere certificate of having given notice of intentions to be naturalized at the future completion of the legal five years’ residence, is another form of this measure. The fourth measure is to procure and hire persons to go from one election district to another and deposit their illegal ballots as many times as possible in the course of the day, “swearing them in” whenever challenged. The great number of voting-places established in the city under the new law, (seventy-nine in all,) has rendered totally unnecessary an expedient used when there was but one in each Ward, (amounting to only seventeen in the whole city,) when systematic disguises were adopted and men were sedulously trained to assume with a variety of dresses, a corresponding change of look, voice, action, walk and manner, to enable them to vote many different times in one day at the same place, without risk of detection or suspicion. The retention of the increased number of the election districts, when the vital clauses of the Registry law were repealed, was therefore a great saving of expense, labor and care on the part of those who managed this business. Disguises are still sometimes assumed, but generally rather from taste than from any necessity in order to avoid risk.

These measures, it will be observed, were all directed to the increase of the vote of the party directing them. Another important measure, productive often of very great effect on the result, was the diminution of the vote of the opposing party by various means. Whenever they had the power of locating the polls, they studiously placed them, in every possible instance, in the most disagreeable and |451| inaccessible situations, where the vicinity furnished the greatest facilities for riot and disturbance, and for creating annoyances which were likely to disgust the more respectable or aged voters so far as to keep many of them away from the ballot-boxes. Organized bands of notorious ruffians and pugilists were also, in many districts, employed by them to obstruct the polls, to create tumults, to alarm the timid and bully the peaceable, and often to molest, insult and assault unoffending voters of opposite sentiments. By these and many other annoyances, many hundreds of lawful votes were often kept out of the ballot-boxes.

By all these agencies of fraud, imposition and violence, an enormous difference in the vote was uniformly created ; and in the great majority of instances, this was done with success, through a long course of years, completely reversing the veritable decision of the people at many elections, and rendering futile and null the whole principle of the republican system,—the actual majority being subjugated and governed by a minority composed of the most ignorant, vicious and desperate portion of society, constituting the basest tyranny ever known to the civilized world. The registry law, though presenting many obstacles to the successful and easy operation of this system of iniquity, still was far from an absolute prevention of the evil. That law could not execute itself. It only created the means and the necessity of action against fraud—action not merely on the part of the authorized agents of the law, but also on the part of good citizens generally. Without the continual exercise of determined vigilance and energy by hundreds of active, experienced politicians, the register of electors was continually liable to be loaded with thousands of spurious names, and with those of obscure non-residents who could crowd their pretended places of abode in the populous filthy sections of the city on the eve of an election, and disappear as soon as their appointed work was done. There was hardly one variety of fraud that could not still be freely perpetrated under that law, unless the most rigid inspection and purgation of the list was constantly secured by organized action. It was but an accession to the preexisting resources of the voluntary system of prevention. This was often neglected during the existence of the registration. The stringent arrangements for watching and | guarding the polls which should have been still enforced, were relaxed ; and the old system of fraud, acquiring new and ingenious modifications by the exercise of invention to evade the statute, was enlarged and strengthened in consequence.

Of all these statements, a most intelligible proof, a vivid illustration and a practical exemplification can be summarily exhibited, by a reference to the statistics of the second charter election which was held here after the repeal of the Registry Law.

In April, 1843, the annual contest for the local government of the City of New York was renewed, with no more than ordinary interest and activity. The party then in possession of the actual power of the Corporation, though not of the Mayoralty, presented as their candidate for the chief office, “a man of the people,” an intelligent, well-informed, upright, prosperous mechanic, then representing the city in the State legislature, and previously nominated by his party for high and responsible offices, and an incumbent of several of them. The mechanical class, or a portion of them, made a special effort to elect him, as a representative of their peculiar political claims and interests. The opposing candidate, at that time the incumbent, had the unanimous support of his own party, and was also favored by many who were wholly indifferent to politics, and by a few actually pretending to be of the other party, on the ground of supposed qualifications as a vigorous and vigilant magistrate ; though he was a specially odious and obnoxious politician, a most unscrupulous and desperate partisan, recklessly abusing power and perverting justice for factious ends, and neglecting duty when the enforcement of the law would have secured the just protection of those whose rights were above all party claims.

Between these two candidates and those severally associated with them, the contest might have been a close one, if limited to the lawful votes of those who came to the polls. The abandonment of duty by a large portion of one party, from dissatisfaction with their position in national politics, and the open desertion of another portion to the enemy, was partly compensated by the rally of the mechanical orders around their own peculiar accepted candidate. But the variation of losses and gains left both parties unusually near an equipoise. Not sufficiently informed as to the effect and |452| extent of certain feelings between various classes and employments, suddenly invoked from a quarter whence such calls were unusual, the party of organized fraud brought all their resources of crime to bear on that contest, and with results startling and even appalling to the most hardened among their experienced directors of imposition. The repeal of the Registry Law, retaining the multiplication of election districts (79 instead of 17) had given facility to long smothered devices of fraud, and security to new forms of crime, beyond the conception of many who had grown old and respectable in these violations of the laws of God and man. The sudden removal of all obstacles to fraud had given an impulse to villany which the masters of that art could not appreciate. Fraud and perjury acquired in a few hours an impetus which, unchecked by the pretense of opposition, could not be restrained or moderated even by friendly interference.

The plans of those who ordered the movements of the party on that horrid day, were undoubtedly limited to the expected exigency. The entire force of their opponents might be reasonably estimated (after all subtractions for national and local schisms,) at about 20,000. In this case, mere success, not ostentation of supposed force, was the object ; and a majority of 1,000 was considered sufficient for all practical purposes, if so distributed among the several Wards as to secure the command of both Boards of the Common Council. Surplus majorities are no part of their policy. The expense is a matter of some consideration ; and a small majority is wisely deemed better in general than one which arouses suspicion and indignant denunciation of fraud.

In this particular case, the result outran these prudential considerations, partly from an over-estimate of the opposing force, and partly from the ease and security with which the subordinate agents found themselves gliding along in their movements of fraud. Few or no obstacles were presented. Challengers were few, or unfaithful and negligent, or were overawed and silenced by displays of violence. In the fifth district of the Sixteenth Ward, and in the second district of the Twelfth Ward, organized and paid bands of rioters, made brutal and bloody assaults upon peaceable voters, and afterwards upon the police when they attempted to preserve order. Many unoffending | persons were seriously wounded, and two almost murdered. The Common Council, discrediting warnings previously given, had made no efficient provision for maintaining the peace of the city and preventing fraud. The result was an apparent majority of 6,000, obtained by these means—including more than 7,000 deliberate false oaths. The darkest day that ever rose on Gomorrah never set on so much heaven-daring crime against God and man, as made up the dread account of this Christian city within those few hours.

The fact was conceded by those who committed it—by a few with boasting,—by some with jesting, but by many with confessed alarm. There was no triumph—no shouting for the victory—no parade of trophies. The processions, ensigns, peals of ordnance, with which that party were invariably wont to announce their sense of their success, were omitted in silence. A subdued and fearful tone pervaded all the organs of the victors ; and the wrath of the vanquished was deprecated as though the power of reversing the result were yet theirs. A public investigation and exposure would have justified a revolution in defence of the rights of the electoral body against a minority coming into power by means so subversive of republican government. Individual inquiry was made, and facts were ascertained, exceeding previous suspicion. Apathy, jealousy, and viler motives prevented the co-operation necessary to complete success. The whole mass of the beaten party returned to their usual indifference to politics, in a few hours after the result of the election was announced—caring nothing for the particulars of the mode in which their defeat was effected. But there were a faithful, watchful few, who shuddered at the products of their search into those causes and means—whose foreboding hearts felt in those discoveries the awful portents of similar results in another and more eventful strife, when the destiny of the nation, the age, the world, should depend on the ballot of this one city. Unaided, derided, and abandoned by those who had the knowledge of the crime and the power of detecting it—unable to sympathize with the guilty indifference and contempt which thus abetted the treason, they could only reserve and store the facts obtained, for the prevention of the same outrages in coming contests, momentous and universal in interest.

|453| The republican of the ages of classic heathenism, in horror of such crimes against that universal sanction of human testimony and law, the solemn adjuration of the powers invisible and eternal, perverted by hideous conspiracy to the destruction of the sacred safeguards of liberty and justice, would have imprecated on the perjured betrayers of his country, the wrath of its tutelar deities, and would, by the sable offering and mystic rite, have evoked the infernal Jove, avenger of violated oaths, with the merciless Eumenides, and all the Stygian train. The Christian freeman, | helplessly beholding the dreadful prodigies of modern crime, could but stand still, and wait in faith to see the judgments of the people’s Eternal King and Divine Protector, who “will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain ;” commending the perjurers and their silent, indolent, indifferent abettors—alike and together, to the slow but certain justice of GOD THE AVENGER.

[The details of the New Plan of fraud, and its operations and effects in the Elections of 1844, will be given in the next number of the American Review.]

 

The American Review : A Whig Journal…, Vol. V, No. III, The Destiny of the Country, March 1847

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[Extract of] THE AMERICAN REVIEW : A WHIG JOURNAL OF POLITICS, LITERATURE, ART, AND SCIENCE, Vol. V. MARCH, 1847. No. III.—pp. 231–239

[Excerpt from Index to Vol. V. :] Destiny of the Country (Rev. H. W. Bellows), 231.

|231| THE DESTINY OF THE COUNTRY.

Notwithstanding the proverbial pride of Americans, few have yet attained any due sense of the magnificence of their country and the splendor of their national destiny. Indeed, the ridiculous vanity with which foreign tourists justly charge us, gathering their testimony from Fourth of July orations, or from patriotic resolutions passed at public meetings, is ascribable to the absence of that noble pride which a more intelligent and considerate acquaintance with our position among the nations of the earth would inspire. There is more to sober than to intoxicate, to awe than to addle, in a true estimate of ourselves and our country. Our vanity springs from the contemplation of what we have done, or what we are, and is often based upon comparisons which nothing but our own ignorance renders possible or flattering. We glory in the wars we have waged with the most powerful nation on the face of the earth, and confound the victory which a broad ocean, separating us from our foe, and a territory unconquerable chiefly in its extent, gave us, with our own valor and general superiority. The rapid growth of our population seems to us a merit of our own. Every providential advantage in our position we appropriate as the result of our own intentions and labors. We attribute our institutions wholly to the sagacity of our Fathers, and the maintenance of them to the wisdom of their Sons. Our national importance seems to us to have been wrought out by our own right arms. And there is a very amusing feeling throughout the nation, that Americans are a different order of beings from others ; that one American soldier is at least equal to four Mexicans, three French or two Englishmen ; a vanity which, in common with other and worse weaknesses, has involved us in the present war, and lately came near plunging us into a war with Great Britain. Ours is the only nation that resents criticism of its literature, politics or manners as a crime. The West found an ample occasion of an English war in the witticisms and caricatures of Captain Hall and Mrs. Trollope. Charles Dickens’ Notes on America excited as much national indignation as a cabinet insult. | The entente cordiale between us and the mother country is as much endangered by Punch’s squibs against Repudiation, as by claims to the exclusive navigation of the St. Johns or the Columbia. This absurd sensitiveness betrays the awkwardness and conceit of the nouveau-riche, the jealousy of the man who is not quite certain he has ceased to be a boy, the eager desire for recognition of one not quite sure of his social standing, and the disposition which the bully, who suspects his own courage, has to pick a quarrel with every coward. If we understood better our real claims to the respect and confidence of the world ; if we appreciated the greatness, not which we have achieved, but which has been thrust upon us by Destiny ; if we valued ourselves upon our real advantage and upon a greatness not dependent upon contrast or admitting comparison, but of a totally different kind from any the world has yet seen, we should cease to be vain and become self-respectful. We should take our eyes off from ourselves and direct them towards Heaven. We should humbly acknowledge how little we have done for ourselves and how much Providence has done for us, and instead of glorying in the past should bestow our admiration on the wondrous future that Heaven is opening before us. But as yet, whether because we are too actively employed as the instruments of Providence to stand back and behold the work in which we are engaged, or because standing too nigh to take in the proportions of the structure on some part of which we are each laboring, it is unquestionably true that at this very moment there is a higher and juster appreciation and estimate of America abroad than at home. We have received a deeper and nobler criticism from foreigners than from our own philosophers and politicians. De Tocqueville has written of us in a higher strain, and with a bolder and grander prophecy than any even of our own poets or patriots. Few of our own countrymen who have not been abroad, have as yet taken a comprehensive view of our circumstances, or have “risen to the height of that great argument” which conducts our people to their sublime destiny. It |232| is rare for any American to look back upon his native shores from the cliffs of Albion or the peaks of the Alps, without perceiving that he has left behind him the land of promise ; that he has been ignorantly dwelling in the most favored region on God’s earth, among institutions compared with which any others are intolerable, and where alone the hopes of humanity have an unclouded horizon, or the progress of the race an open field.

There is no nation on the face of the earth or in the records of history, if we except the Jews, whose origin, circumstances and progress have been so purely providential as ours ; none which owes so little to itself and so much to the Ruler of its destiny. It is impossible not to trace in its brief but wonderful career the unfolding of a plan too vast, and requiring too much antecedent calculation and extraordinary concurrence of events, to be ascribed to any other than infinite wisdom. The concealment of this whole continent in the mysterious remoteness of the ocean during so many centuries, while our race were trying the many necessary experiments of civilization in the old world ; its discovery at the precise period when the social and political theories and policies of Europe had evidently exhausted themselves, and when other and most potent instruments of civilization destined to revolutionize the whole order of society—the mariner’s compass and the printing press—were just coming into use ; the peculiar complexion of events in England which decided the character and views of the colonists who shaped the political destinies of this country ; all indicate a consummate and glorious plan involving the interest not of a nation, but of the race. And this is the peculiarity of our existence ; that unlike any other, the people are not one nation among the other nations of the earth, but a people made up of all nations, the heirs of the united blood and experience of all, equally regarded by all as their own child, to whom the hopes of the race are intrusted, and who is sent to seek and to push the fortunes of the family in a new and fresh field of enterprise. “The new world” is a phrase which from familiarity has lost its emphasis. But it contains in it an idea of the most pregnant and momentous character. “The new world,” was to the nations of decrepit, exhausted Europe—its soil full of the roots of social and political prejudices fatal to the | culture of human rights—a new heavens and a new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness. It was a new world, a world as new as if the race had been translated to another planet, where man might begin over again the experiment of civil society with the benefit of a long experience, and without the obstacle of conventional or traditionary associations and customs. This new world properly belonged to the race and not to any portion of it. It was a world, not a country ; a continent, not an island, a peninsula, or a region which a river or a chain of mountains could bound. It owed its being to the united efforts of the greatest powers on earth. Spain discovered it, France explored it, England gave it language and laws ; and every nation has sent rivers of its blood to run in the great stream which now bears the most precious hopes of the race on its bosom. The Macedonian empire merged in its brief but brilliant existence, Greek, Syrian, Persian and Egyptian, but its conquests were never assimilated to each other, and its unity was an aggregate not a sum. The Roman empire left to every nation it conquered, its language, its religion and its customs ; it took away nothing but its independence and gave little but its own protection. But into the soil of America has trickled drop by drop the blood of every European nation. Commingled inseparably, the divided children of the old world are the united family of the new. For the first time the chief nations of the earth are blended in a common fate, in which their individuality is wholly lost. American blood is neither English nor Irish, nor French, nor Spanish, nor German, nor Swiss. But it is all these in large proportions of each, and every day the purely Anglo-Saxon stock is losing its predominancy. We rejoice that England so far prevailed over the early fortunes of the new world, as to give its language, its religion and its laws and customs to those colonies before which all the rest have succumbed or must finally bend. But we rejoice also that the new world has been open to the emigration of all lands, and that it now shelters in its bosom the representatives of every European soil. Nay, we firmly believe that the Anglo-Saxon stock is to be greatly improved by intermixture with other races, and that it is a providential purpose that it should here be brought into contact and become ultimately merged in a new race compounded of the richness of |233| every olden people. But at any rate, be it for better or worse, the new world was not destined to be a mere extension of British rule, or Saxon blood, or of the characteristic customs and prejudices of any one people. It was to be the home of delegates from the race. And here we have indeed a new world, inhabited by a new race. And this astonishing heterogeneousness of races, perfectly blended into one, is one of the most interesting and peculiar features in our condition, as it is one of the marks of the universal or general interest which appertains to our destiny.

Consider in the next place, in connection with our political institutions, providential origin and circumstances, the grandeur both in extent and features of the territory inherited by this new race. Let us place ourselves at the Capitol, and from the balcony overhanging that commanding height survey the land. The landscape within reach of the outward eye is magnificent and infinitely suggestive to the visionary orb within. The broad river, the ample plain, the distant mountains, the unfinished, wide-spread city well represent and characterize the country and the people to which they belong. No spot tells like this the whole story of our recent origin, our incredible or unexampled progress, our magnificent and half-realized hopes. This city at our feet, of only thirty thousand inhabitants, occupies the room of a Metropolis of millions. These broad avenues are designed to accommodate that tide of population which our vast territories shall ultimately roll through the capitol of the country ! These noble public edifices, many of them worthy of towering over the most magnificent city on the globe, but now rising amid mean and temporary dwellings, do but anticipate and foreshadow the splendid future they befit, while they afford by vivid contrast the liveliest conception of our present incomplete but promising and vigorous youth.

And here as we stand almost in the presence of the representatives of every State and district and important town in our vast country, it requires very little force of imagination to crowd the horizon out till it compasses the enormous area of this great and free land of our birth. In the far North-East we see our boundary line shining with the recent lustre of peaceful diplomacy and enlightened patriotism. That noble chain of inland seas, stretching from East to West, itself | secured as our northern line by the sagacity and firmness of the elder Adams, fitly completes what the treaty of Washington begins. We follow the river at our feet to its mouth, and the broad Atlantic, bulwark of the new world against the institutions, manners and customs of an effete civilization, washes for fifteen hundred miles our eastern coast white with cities, into whose ports is filing the commerce of the world. On the South, those rich and peaceful purchases, Florida and Louisiana—kingdoms of themselves anywhere else—by which our country has possessed itself of the whole northern shore of the Gulf of Mexico, and the vast territory of Texas—that unlooked for and not wholly welcome accession—reveal themselves to our straining eyes. And, finally, in the West, passing the broad streams and endless prairies far beyond that Mediterranean river that once seemed made to divide nations and stay the course of empire, far across deserts and mountains, through almost inaccessible passes, the gleam of the Pacific ocean tells us we have reached the occidental boundary of our country.

And this broad continent, this new world, with lakes like oceans and rivers like seas, penetrated to the heart with bays and gulfs ; this region comprising every clime and furnishing the products of all—the furs of the north and the fruits of the tropics—the bread stuffs of temperate zones—the woolens of cold, and the cottons of warm climates—stretching from one great ocean of the globe to the other, and from the frozen serpent almost to the equator—this vast area with natural divisions to indicate it as the home of many nations, is, by the Providence of God, one country, speaking one language, rejoicing in one common Constitution, honoring the same great national names, celebrating the same great national events. It is one nation. And it is a free nation. It possesses an ideal form of government, the dream of ancient heroes no longer a vision of the night ; the prophetic visionary song of poets become the prosaic language of matter-of-fact men. It is without hereditary rulers, without a legalized aristocracy. It is self-governed. It is a land of equal rights. It is a stable republic.

And what a marvelous and providential history has it had ! The hemisphere itself has been discovered only three and a half centuries, less than one-fifth of the period which has elapsed since the origin |234| of Christianity. Two centuries only have passed since our territory was reached by two distant bands of colonists, one led by the spirit of chivalrous adventure and commercial enterprise, the other by the love of religious liberty and political freedom ; but both from the land of Hampden and Pym. But three-score and ten years—the life of one man—have sped, since this people, a handful of men, breaking loose from the most powerful nation on the face of the globe at the peril of everything held dear, proclaimed its independence, and after maintaining two wars with the parent country, the Queen of the Seas, is now become the third power on the earth, with a population little short of twenty millions, with resources of manufactures and agriculture which render it substantially independent of foreign commerce in war, although able and glad to compete with the commerce of the world in peace.

It is in no indulgence of national vanity that we repeat this history, whatever the appearance may be. There are stains enough upon our skirts to humble the pride of any patriotic American, stains that look darker here than anywhere else. But whatever our wrongs or follies or ill deserts, no lover of his race, no friend of Christianity, no one who waits upon God’s providence and believes in a divine government, can fail to see that the great Ruler of events has shaped the natural features, the general history and the political institutions of our country, into a wonderful theatre of mercy and love, and fitted it for a great display of his power ; nor can we hesitate to announce the preparation here for a glorious and unexampled triumph of the principles of justice, humanity and religion. Could the colossal statue of Columbus that flanks the rear entrance to the Capitol, have momentary vision granted to its stony orbs ; could the pictured company on the walls of the Rotunda, that listen at Delft-Haven to the prayer of Robinson, have but for a moment the reality and life they seem to possess ; could the more than Roman majesty that clothes the father of his country, rise from its marble chair—and these fit representatives of the three great bands that under Providence have made us what we are, the Discoverers, the Pilgrim Fathers, and the Revolutionary heroes, be gathered with us on this noble gallery and stretch their eyes where ours go over the land as | it is and into the open secret of the Future as it must be, would not he who came expressly to erect the cross on heathen soil and to gain new victories for Christ, and the Puritans who sought religious liberty in the wilderness, and the patriots who fought for religious and political freedom—the discoverers, the settlers, and the founders of our country—unite in declaring this the land of promise and themselves men of destiny, who had been engaged in a work greater than they knew, unconsciously laboring under a Heaven-directed plan—entering successively into each other’s labors without estimating the inheritance, and committing their own to other hands without understanding the responsibility they had shared or devolved ? Would they not see, and should not we see, something more than the well-being of a particular people ; something too momentous and solemn for national exultation, in the history and prospects of this our country ? Aye. Their thoughts would be of the prospects of the human race thus opening before them. More understandingly than we, would they call this the new world ; the world beginning over again, with the riches, the experience, the literature, the morality and religion of the old world—but on a virgin soil, sustaining free institutions and enjoying perfect toleration—with a people covering a quarter of the globe, speaking one language, bound together by common interests, professing one common religion—yet in the dew of youth, but already full of wealth, health, power and prosperity ! Would they not say and with sober truth, this work is not of man ? It is the Lord’s doing and marvelous in our eyes ! Alas, we are not astonished at what may astonish angels ! So wonted are we to our privileges and our inherited rights, and so broadly separated from the nations that are bereft of them, that we appreciate not our peculiar happiness !

Have we often considered the wonderful and providential aptitude of our country for deriving the greatest and most indispensable advantages from the most brilliant discoveries of modern times in science and art ? May we not feel that steam in its applications as a motive power was discovered with express reference to our enormous rivers and lakes ? It has greatly aided other nations, but it has re-created ours. Was not the railroad expressly invented to hold together in its vast iron cleets our broad and |235| otherwise unbound country, threatening to fall to pieces by its own weight ? Its ponderous trains flying like great shuttles across our land, weave into one seamless web the many-colored interests and varied sentiments and affections of our scattered countrymen. Let its fiery horse, with a continent for his pasture, speed as swiftly as he can ; where there is land to sustain his hoof, he cannot take us off our own soil, or away from the sound of our native tongue ! Is not the lightning-winged telegraph, that puts a girdle of intelligence round the earth in the eighth of a second, a providential angel whose mission is peculiar to our own land—an all but omnipotent spirit whose business it is to facilitate the intercourse of a nation whose territories stretch into different climates, and are divided by chains of mountains, and which yet depends for its united existence upon agreement of sentiment, frequency of intercourse,concurrence of sympathies and central unity of operations ? If the providence of God, choosing out a theatre for the ultimate triumph of his earthly purposes toward our race, had selected this land after having long, and until the fullness of time, kept it back from civilized possession, would not the whole world have recognized the justice and expediency of the choice ? And what gifts could Heaven have bestowed to make up for the disadvantages apparently inseparable from other and more important blessings—as it were, to reconcile in our favor physical incompatibilities—the benefits of vast area with none of its evils—its varied climates, products and spaciousness, without its separation, conflict of interests, or jealous diversity of sentiments—than the inventions of the last quarter of a century—the Steamboat, the Locomotive, and the Magnetic Telegraph ? In what other nation are these actually indispensable or invaluable ? And the date of these benefactions has been as providential as the bequest itself !

There is a growing feeling that the interests of the New World, and the prospects of humanity on this continent are largely dependent upon the preservation of the union of the United States. And in nothing has the Providence over us been more strikingly illustrated than in the unexpected bonds of stability which have disclosed themselves in the history of events. If the rapidity of our growth, the increase of our territory, the early | and fierce agitation of the most exciting questions had been foreseen, it certainly would not have been credited that the Union of these States would have continued beyond a half century ! The bare spread of territory would have been considered a sufficient cause of separation, to say nothing of the difference of interests and the apparent independence of each great section of the country of every other. But what an astonishing and inextricable mutual dependence has revealed itself, till this time increasing with the increase of causes of dissociation or severance ; the centripetal ever counteracting the centrifugal forces, and in the very nick of time asserting new energy, until we are almost forced to believe the integrity of the Union a providential decree ! Philosophers at one date alarmed the world by announcing disturbances in the solar system which must ultimately involve the earth, with its sister planets, in a common ruin. But a profounder science has detected the correcting influence, and demonstrated the stability of the solar universe. We have a confidence that an analogy to this will be found in the history of the American Union, which has thus far gloriously disappointed the predictions of foreign observers, and found unexpected correctives for those perturbations which threatened to destroy it. De Tocqueville has enumerated with his usual brilliancy most of the bonds which unite us, as well as the elements of discord and separation, and has expressed his apprehension that our rapid increase and unexampled prosperity would terminate in disunion. But he certainly misapprehended many symptoms from which he augured dissolution. He underrated the power of the central government, which he thought was growing weaker every day. Experience has shown, on the contrary, that the jealousy of centralization had reached its head about the very time he based his prophesy upon the supposition of its regular increase. There can be no question that the spirit in which nullification arose is very much abated ; that the constitutional objections pleaded against internal improvements by the Federal Government are very much quieted ; that the Senate has grown in authority and dignity ; that local prejudices have been allayed and sectional ambition much rebuked. The last five years, the very period during which the most alarming extension of country has been witnessed, |236| have, notwithstanding all, done more to strengthen the central power than any period since the war of 1812. There is a steady growth of nationality among our people, a feeling that the States are merged in the Nation, and owe their power, importance and dignity in the eyes of the world to the Union and the General Government. The more frequent our intercourse with foreign powers, and the more plainly we see ourselves recognized as a great power by the other nations of the world, the greater must be our disposition to maintain the national existence, to which we owe our importance. Painful as the suspense was which attended the discussion of the North-Eastern boundary, and the Oregon question, who can doubt that those difficulties, and the treaties that resulted from them, by bringing our nation into direct comparison in diplomacy, in spirit, and in generosity, with Great Britain, did a great deal to strengthen our bonds at home, which are never weak, except when through prosperity we become forgetful of their value ? The growing disposition abroad, to think and speak of us as one people, will, doubtless, increase the disposition at home to continue such. Add to this, that the importance of the real subjects of dispute or jealousy is daily lessening.

There is, probably, no subject which has jeopardized the union of these States so much as slavery. But the principal danger was at the outset of the discussion. The firmness and constitutional fidelity which the North and West have shown in regard to that institution, have quieted the apprehensions of the South. It has become perfectly plain, that no intention exists, anywhere in this country, to violate the chartered rights of the South. The policy agreed to by the North and West, is one in which the South itself concurs, if we may judge the matter by the course of their Coryphæus, Mr. Calhoun, viz. to abide by the compromises of the Constitution. Every indication exists, that abolition excitement has reached its head, and is exploding in every kind of extravagance and ultraism, until the calm and wise heads and hearts of the country are utterly alienated from all cooperation with it. Soon the economic view of the question, is to become the absorbing one, and the moment Southern | intelligence takes this question into its own hands, healthier and more dispassionate views will be entertained on the subject at large, and the bands of union among the States will, we are persuaded, be drawn closer than ever. Every one must see that the cotton, sugar, and tobacco staples are every day losing their relative and preponderating importance among the exports of the country. It is perfectly plain, that the exports of the grain-growing regions—large portions of which belong to the middle and southern states—from this time forward must render the country less dependent, for credit in foreign markets, upon the more particular products of the South. This very month brings us fifteen millions in exchange from England, in return for our flour and meal. The Indian corn crop—a great Southern and Western staple—is already half as valuable as the cotton crop. The maple sugars of Vermont, New York and Ohio, exercise not a great but a decided influence upon the demand for Southern sugars. Tobacco, as is well known, is not more than half as valuable as it was, as the crop rapidly exhausts the lands producing it, which are then chiefly turned to the production of corn. These causes combined, must make the South less peculiar in its interests, less separate in its position, more inclined to compromise or co-operate with the other portions of the Union. Even now, a certain degree of attention to manufactures in Maryland, Virginia, and Tennessee, shows that the entire reliance upon these staples is no longer practicable ; and the Memphis Convention indicates clearly enough that the jealousy of Northern interests, the thorough anti-tariff policy, the anti-internal improvement war, are no longer to be uncompromisingly maintained. From these general and various considerations, we infer that disunion is not likely to proceed from the discussion of slavery, or from conflict of interests. To industrial change, bringing about a great community of labor and production, do we confidently look for the gradual dissipation of all sectional prejudices, in every part of the Union, and the growth in their stead of a lasting community of interest and regard.

Mr. Vinton, of Ohio, in one of the most pregnant speeches*|236| ever made on the floor of Congress, laid down some |237| very remarkable and incontrovertible principles in respect to the stability of the Union. We know that his speech left a very deep impression upon the minds of thinking men, in all parts of the Union, whatever may have been the immediate response to a discourse so broad in its foundations, and grand in its proportions, as to require a distant and deliberate view. It was his object to demonstrate the safety and importance of allowing the West her due share of influence in the general councils of the nation. It is well known that when the Confederacy in 1780, was solicitous to obtain from the States, concessions of Western territory, it held out the promise that this territory should, under the conditions of the Constitution, be framed into independent States, “not less than one hundred, or more than one hundred and fifty miles square.” Virginia, consequently, ceded all her territory west of the Ohio to the Federal Government, upon this promise, or condition. Now, the effect of this legislation would have been to create at least fourteen States west of the Ohio, to say nothing of Kentucky and Tennessee, giving to the country, beyond the Alleghanies, a majority of States in the Confederacy. This arrangement was made at a time, when the peopling of the great western valley went on so slowly, and when the navigation of the Ohio and Mississippi was so difficult and little valued, that no jealousy existed of the Western power. But when the difficulties arose between Spain and the United States, as to the navigation of the Mississippi, the discussion brought its importance into public notice. Railroads, canals, and national roads had not then leveled the Alleghanies, and they were naturally regarded as interposing an everlasting barrier between the eastern Atlantic slope and the western valley. An opinion naturally sprung up, that the interests of the two regions would be for ever divided, and then it burst upon the Federal Government, that it had made such provisions that the balance of power would inevitably lie in the Western scale, where they had never dreamed of placing it. To obviate this, with the consent of Virginia, Congress, by the celebrated ordinance of 1787, which abolished slavery in the territory north-west of the Ohio, provided that it should be divided into not less than three, nor more than five States, thus restoring the balance to | the eastern division of the country. This jealousy and injustice—for the States thus laid out, both in territory and in population, are ten times the usual size of the New England States, and twice or thrice the size of the Middle and Southern States with two or three exceptions—grew out of the supposed permanent opposition of interests between the Atlantic States and the Western division of the country. But, as Mr. Vinton has shown, experience has proved that no such conflict, or even diversity of interests exists.

De Tocqueville had already remarked that the Alleghanies interposed no serious barrier between the East and West, for the mountains are themselves cultivable, and contain some of the richest slopes and most beautiful valleys in the world, and so far from dividing whole regions, do not even separate States, often lying, as in Virginia and Pennsylvania, in the very heart of a single sovereignty. Besides, at the North the fertile territory of New York offered an unbroken plain connecting the East and the West ; and the lakes, by a blessed foresight secured as our northern boundary, form of themselves, with small interruptions, a great natural highway between the Atlantic and the Mississippi. Mr. Samuel B. Ruggles, in his celebrated report to the New York Assembly, has exhibited in the most graphic lines and with an enthusiasm as near poetical as the strictest mathematics would allow, the astonishing provisions which nature has made for a system of internal improvements, uniting the East and the West in the most cordial and indissoluble bonds. But Mr. Vinton has gone still further, and proved that the Alleghanies, so far from dividing, positively unite us ; that they interpose just obstacle enough to form a strong party-wall holding up both sides ; that the strength and union and intimacy of the East and West depend upon their distance from each other, the difference of their soil, the unlikeness of their interests and their reciprocal obligations. He has demonstrated that the balance of power is nowhere to be so safely placed as in the West ; for the West has a greater stake and a more obvious interest in the union than the East, and quite as much as the South. It is perfectly plain that “that great fertile valley of the upper waters of the Mississippi, which spreads out from the sources of the Monongahela and Alleghany |238| rivers, to the head waters of the Missouri will always contain the heart and seat of the population of the Union.” Of course it ought to have and will have the chief political power, and therefore it is a great question whether it is safe that the balance of power in this Union should lie there. Mr. Vinton, we repeat, has demonstrated this safety. He has shown, that the West is completely and forever dependent upon the markets of the Atlantic on the one hand and on the market of New Orleans on the other, so that it is impossible she should ever “inflict an injury upon the North or the South without feeling the full and fatal recoil of the blow she strikes.” The East has understood this practically ; as the Erie canal, the Western railroad, the Pennsylvania lines of internal connection with the Ohio river sufficiently attest. And the resolutions passed at the Memphis Convention show that Southern abstractions vanish before the touch of sober interests. Mr. Calhoun, wisely, if not consistently, teaches that the Mississippi river is an inland ocean, and as much entitled to the care of the general government as Lake Erie or the Chesapeake Bay ; and he lays out a system of railways uniting the Mississippi with Savannah and Charleston, which rival the roads of Massachusetts in complexity of members and unity of result, to which he invites the patronage of government to the extent of a surrender of every other section of land, wherever the roads run through its territory, besides a remission of duties on railroad iron, equivalent to a bounty of $2,000 a mile.*|238|

It is evident, then, that the prosperity of the West is bound up with the prosperity of the East and of the South. She must have a free, a regular, a constant and an increasing trade with the Atlantic, either by New Orleans and the Gulf of Mexico, or through the lakes and the railroads across the country to the sea-board. There never was an hour when she could have fully felt how wholly dependent she is upon the East and her commerce until the present, when the starving population of Ireland, of France, of Scotland, are crying for her bread-stuffs, and when Eastern ships can alone bring the West and her foreign customers together. The home market she finds, too, is constantly increasing in importance, | and the West is therefore deeply interested in so far maintaining the system of manufactures by which the East thrives, as to allow the Northern Atlantic States to depend even more than they now do upon the Western granary. The West cannot intelligently suffer the Protective tariff to be destroyed by Southern prejudice ; for every Eastern factory is her customer and puts a portion of its gains into her treasury. The home market is the sure market. The failure of foreign crops may give a temporary extra importance to what is always of much importance, the Transatlantic market ; but a population regularly and increasingly dependent for its food upon the West is a more valuable customer. And the West must see this too clearly to adopt the ultra Free-trade notions of the South, which begins to flinch itself, as is apparent from the Memphis Convention.

If we add to this the evident mediatorial position of the West in respect to slavery, its half-way post in regard to all questions that divide the North and South, both in manners, sympathies, tastes, climate, democratic temper, and general civilization, we shall see a wonderful adaptation in its condition to allay the causes of mutual jealousy or hostility between other portions of the confederacy and to hold them for its own sake, if for no other reason, in peace and concord. For these reasons it would appear safe and desirable that the balance of power should pass to the West ; and no danger to the Union is to be apprehended from the sudden and rapid growth of population and power in the valley of the Mississippi.

At this time greater apprehensions are doubtless felt for the permanency of the Union, from the spirit of conquest which seems to have seized our government, than from all other causes. The annexation of Texas seemed to be a disturbance of the mutual dependence of the parts of the country on each other. But, bating the extension it gave to slavery it did not really add a centrifugal territory to the Union, seeing that its connection with and dependence upon us, is much-more direct and natural than with Mexico, from which it is divided by deserts and mountains. If that accession had not involved us in an unjust war and made it probable that the Southern |239| Question will be again agitated, we should be reconciled to it. We think the purchase of California would not be an unwise investment, for the sake of its ports alone—for its soil every day grows leaner and leaner as we acquire more reliable information in regard to it. But we have no apprehensions that the boundary of the United States will extend, for some generations, below the Nueces. If we owned territory there we could do nothing with it. Our population will have no tendency to run over in that direction until it has filled up many much more inviting and convenient territories. It is plain enough that the Administration are now looking out for a creditable opportunity of withdrawing our forces and of getting out of the Mexican scrape with as little more waste of powder and treasury notes as possible. We consider the aggressive war to be over in that direction, and are every day looking for the result of secret negotiations ending in peace. It is plain that the South has no interest in pressing the war. The North is wholly opposed to it. The West has nothing but a sort of 54° 40’ excitement to work off in fight. The party is sick of it, and it is difficult to see what can induce or support the Administration in carrying it on. It can make no capital out of it. It has not been able to make a party question out of the supplies. The victors have been Whig generals. The treasury needs nursing. Mr. Polk is the object of universal abuse on both sides of the water and from all parties, and we are therefore convinced that the war must be brought to a close, not speedily to be resumed in that direction. We have very little fear, therefore, that an extension of our territory South by conquest, is to trouble us for a long time to come. It is as sure as the coming of time, that our people is destined to spill over on to Mexican soil as soon as the habitable portions of the West are filled up. Mr. Crittenden, in one of his happiest efforts in the Senate, ridiculed the idea, which the French Chambers with true French abstractionizing were then discussing—of the importance of preserving the balance of power by strengthening the antagonistic or anti-United States powers on this continent—by quoting the former advice which the Minister of | Foreign Affairs had given to Louis XV., to form an alliance with the Cherokees, in order to head our progress over the Alleghany Mountains ! He well asked, what was to head the peaceful inevitable spread of a population which fifty years would change from twenty to a hundred millions ? It is calculated, we believe, that the advance of the tide of population upon the Western frontier is at the rate of seventeen miles annually. It becomes a simple calculation, how soon, at this rate, we shall reach the Pacific ocean. And long before that time our cup must run over in the southern direction. That Mexico will ultimately fall a political prey, not to force, but to a superior population, insensibly oozing into her territories, changing her customs, and out-living, out-trading, exterminating her weaker blood, we regard with as much certainty, as we do the final extinction of the Indian races, to which the mass of the Mexican population seem very little superior ; and we have no reason to doubt that this country will not have doubled its three centuries of existence, before South America will speak the English tongue and submit to the civilization, laws and religion of the Anglo-Saxon race. We, as a great civilized and Christian nation, have only to use all endeavors to have this tide of population regular and peaceful in its course—with no violence, or spirit of conquest ; its sure progress we cannot help.

Such are some of the reasons for believing that the dissolution of the Union is less probable now than at any previous date of our existence, and thus that the only evil which seemed to cloud the glorious destiny before our race in this New World is not impending.

We have many things to say respecting the operation of the Institutions for which we have ventured to predict permanency, and on which for general reasons we set so lofty a value. The influence of the Democratic sentiment upon our social condition and our personal character is a theme rich in suggestions. We hope to meet our readers, at such intervals as convenience requires, upon this ground, to consider together whatever is new, peculiar, or important, for good or evil, in our national existence and social state.

Notes

*|236|.

House of Representatives, U. S. Feb. 11, 1845. The bill to admit the States of Iowa and Florida into the Union being under consideration in committee of the whole.

*|238|.

Opening Speech on taking the Chair of the South-western Convention, Nov. 13, 1845.

 

The American Review : A Whig Journal…, Vol. I, No. I, The Position of Parties, January 1845

About The American Whig Review:

See Presentation and Links to Articles in Chronological Order for The American Whig Review.

Authors of the Articles:

We shall add between the title of the volume and the title of the article, the information of the Index of the volume which may include the name or pseudonym of the author.

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  • |231| is the page number 231 in the original
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  • *|236| is note * on page 236 in the original

[Extract of] THE AMERICAN REVIEW : A WHIG JOURNAL OF POLITICS, LITERATURE, ART, AND SCIENCE, Vol. I. JANUARY, 1845. No. I.—pp. 5–21

[Excerpt from Index to Vol. I. :] Position of Parties, 6—earliest Division of Parties, 6—Federalists, and Anti-Federalists, ib.—Republicans, ib.—obliteration of Party distinctions under Monroe, 7—Election of 1824, ib.—Letter of General Jackson to Mr. Monroe, ib.—Intrigues of Martin Van Buren and Silas Wright, ib. —Political strife stirred up again, 9— Title of Democrat exclusively assumed by the Jackson Party, ib.—Sketch of General Jackson, 10—his Administration, ib.—adoption of the motto “to the victors belong the spoils,” ib.—effects of wholesale removals from office, ib.— War upon the United States Bank, 12—secret influence of Martin Van Buren, 13—Policy of the Whig Party at that time, 14—Sketch of Mr. Van Buren, ib.— Systems of Party Drilling, 15—Increase of Local Banks, ib.—Speculations, ib.— Commercial Ruin, ib.—Sub-Treasury, 17—Election of General Harrison, ib.—Democracy of the Day, 18.

|5| THE POSITION OF PARTIES.

A stranger in the country, having little knowledge of our political divisions, would be greatly confused in his attempts to ascertain the real meaning of the terms “democracy” and “democratic.” Having received from former free states the impression that the word properly respects the “power of the people,” which it literally signifies, exercised by a majority of themselves for the people’s good, he would naturally look around to see if the modern multitude who employ that ancient appellation are a sufficient part of the community for such a possession, to what large measures of public policy they have given rise, and with what line of conduct they or their leaders have, in general, pursued the interests of the commonwealth. To his surprise, unless he had made of demagogues and their arts a philosophic study, he would find the term, in its better sense, peculiarly misapplied. He would remark, on the one hand, that by far the greater and more intelligent portion of the people, and the portion from which nearly every measure which has in any degree tended to the common benefit, together with each and all of those broad principles that can lead the nation steadily on to prosperity and true greatness, long since originated, make no use of that attractive title, but are content to consider themselves abiders by the Constitution, consistent supporters of the Federal Republic.

By an opposing minority on the other side, he would hear the term vociferated with great zeal at all meetings in streets and club-rooms, whatever might be the occasion of their assembling, and in whatever part of the Union he might chance to be. Anxious to know, as having the finest opportunity since the days of the Athenian ‘democratie,’ the exact weight of the word, especially in their own minds, and what amount of distilled opinion has filtered down to them through the ages intervening, the stranger requests one of the more favorable specimens to define his creed. He replies—“I am a Democrat.” It is intimated to him that principles and names are different things, and he is pressed to state what particular measure he supports that | is peculiarly democratic in its nature ; what great doctrine he believes in ;—briefly, what he is for.—Why, he is “for democracy !” He supports “the rights of the people !” He “believes in Jefferson !” Sometimes the explanation would be varied to the negative form, by recounting, which they are able to do more readily and at much greater length, what they are against. The matter pressed still further, a labarynthine [sic] definition would be the issue, garnished with such a variety of prefixes, according to the locality of the speaker, as to render a consecutive series of ideas out of the question. Our friend, the stranger, grows disturbed in mind. He has lost his old ideas of the word, and gained no new ones. It has become to him a cabalistic phrase, equivalent to the term “great medicine” among the Chippewas or Pottawatamies. But what is this to the public ? The cloak is of use to the party that wear it. They have given to it a most ample latitude of comprehension, and have compelled it to cover, like charity, a multitude of sins.

We shall not quarrel with them, however, for possession of the name. During the few unfortunate years in which they have held the false tenure, they have so encumbered the domain with useless and dangerous structures, so imbued it with unnatural, unconstitutional and destructive elements, so divided and undermined it with radical tendencies leading swiftly downwards to ruin, that we hardly know if any period of rightful usage by the worth and patriotism of the nation could restore it to a just and honorable significance. Nor is it, in truth, of much consequence. Names in themselves are nothing, principles and conduct everything ; and we are desirous rather, in this article, of setting before the public the two great antagonist parties in the country, as they actually stand. We think this will be best effected by sketching, briefly and clearly as may be, the former history up to this time—especially the rise and progress, the early and the latter formation—of the Democratic party. Facts are substantial things : they cannot be lightly blown away by the breath that utters the “euphonious name” so volubly.

|6| Every one is aware that the Democracy of 1844 makes great pretensions to antiquity. It professes to refer its parentage to the Republicans of 1798, and to the democracy of the Jeffersonian era. We think it would be discretion on the part of its leaders to say the least that may be in regard to its birth and childhood ; but if, like biographers having the difficult task to impart a fair character to a bad subject, they must commence with the beginning of a vicious life, it would be well to go so far back as to make a reference to facts impossible.

Great differences of opinion did indeed exist among both public and private men at, and soon after, the formation of the government. They were not in regard to the principles of freedom and legal equality, for these were recognised by all—but as to the offices and powers of the federal government, the duration of terms of office, and the constitution and functions of the judiciary and the legislature. A free government was then an untried experiment, adopted with anxious hope, and confided in with trembling. Its wisest framers did not fully comprehend its capacities, its whole mode of action was not yet fully determined, and theories were for the first time to be reduced to practice. It was natural that in such a state of affairs different views of things should arise even among the wise and patriotic. Nearly every man had undergone the perils of war for freedom, and all were anxious to protect the great and dearly-purchased boon for the benefit of those who should come after them. It is seldom, in a contested case, that an intelligent jury of twelve men can agree upon a result, after a basis of facts has been established by evidence. Much less could it be expected that uniformity of opinion would be attained in so serious a matter as that of the formation of a government for a vast country, embracing a multitude of details, and providing for the exigency of a thousand unknown circumstances.

These differences divided the people at the first, and, with some modifications, for many years, into two distinct parties. They were so far parallel to the parties of the present day, as to be, the one for, the other against, those elements of a general government which experience has shown, are best suited to the condition and permanent interests of the people of this country. The modern Democracy | are slow to trace back their origin quite to so mistaken a position. Yet the chief distinction is, though our opponents may think it a matter of no consequence, that the leaders of the radical minority of that day were honest men. For if, after so many years of reasonable growth and prosperity with the government, as first constituted, unchanged, professed statesmen are yet found supporting opinions that involve a practical opposition to some of its most important principles, what remains but to consider them either incapable or traitorous ?

Not to digress, however, the earliest division of the people arose out of the primitive attempts to form a confederacy of the states, and subsequently on the question of adopting the Constitution so anxiously and wisely framed. The discussions in the several states were protracted and earnest : the friends of the Constitution, with Washington at their head, were designated as Federalists, its enemies Anti-Federalists. But the Constitution once adopted and acquiesced in, the questions which had arisen were rapidly lost sight of ; and the latter designation becoming odious, was readily exchanged for the more popular name of Republicans. With the election of Jefferson in 1800 the power passed away from the hands of the Federalists ; the old controverted points were settled or forgotten ; new and exciting questions, as the impressment of seamen, the embargo, and various foreign relations, followed, engrossing the public mind, and essentially changing the character and position of parties. Finally, the war ensued, which, however looked upon in its origin, eventually created, for the most part, a community of sentiment throughout the country ; and by the close of Madison’s administration all previous party distinctions were effectually obliterated. We state results and facts fully established by contemporaneous history. Mr. Monroe entered upon his office by a nearly unanimous choice of the people. The Republican party of the preceding period, known as such, had placed itself on the important practical questions of the day, rather than on any exclusive claims to democracy, such as are now put forth, with little purpose, we think, except to continue party lines, and enable “scurvy politicians” to throw the dice more frequently for the spoils of office. Sometimes, it is true, an alarm was even then occasionally sounded by the demagogue about aristocratic |7| tendencies, with which opponents were charged ; but they had not made, as now, a false title the battle cry of the party, their first, their last, their only argument. Great measures of foreign policy, almost wholly absorbing men’s minds, had not permitted this small game to be played. In consequence, moreover, of the termination of these questions, and the defeat of the Federalists in reference to them, that party ceased to exist as an opposition. During the whole of Mr. Monroe’s administration, they gave a cordial support to the government, and became merged with their antagonists into one united people, wearied with political strife and disposed to take a calm review of former contests. It was, in truth, the era of good feelings. Here and there some of those small men who feel that at such times they have no chance of emerging from that obscurity for which nature designed them, were endeavoring to maintain the old distinctions of names in local and state elections ; but their miserable efforts received little countenance from the mass of the people. The nation desired repose and a concentrated attention to those matters of internal improvement (we use the term in its best and largest sense) which had before to give way to the all-absorbing questions arising out of our foreign relations ; and on those questions of national improvement, there was, at that time, but little difference of opinion at the North or the South. Southern men had no doubt of the constitutionality and expediency of protecting the national industry. The North concurred in the sentiment, although at that time its ostensible interests were no more connected with this question than those of other sections of the Union. All felt the importance of a national currency, and there was hardly a shadow of a difference as to the means by which alone it could be secured.

Neither was the election of 1824 conducted on party grounds. Local interests and personal predilections predominated. Adams, Clay, Crawford, and Jackson were the prominent candidates for the presidency. They were all recognised as Republicans, and were supported as such. Failing of an election by the people, the House of Representatives, under the provisions of the Constitution, elected Mr. Adams to the chief magistracy. In the contest between these several candidates, the members of the old Federal | party were about equally divided, as they are between the parties at this day. The radical faction of the present day, neither in name nor principles, had any existence at that period. All pretended affinities of a more ancient date are unsupported by fact, the old Republicans holding few or no opinions in common with the modern Democracy.

In the course of this fortunate period there was an incident to which we would wish to call particular attention. It shows how the most violent spirits had felt the composing influences to which we have alluded, and yielded to the general spirit of peace, of unity and nationality which pervaded the land. Some other conclusions also may be legitimately drawn. We allude to a famous letter written during this period by General Jackson to Mr. Monroe. Many may call that letter in question, as some enlightened Democrats would deny that James K. Polk ever opposed a tariff ; but we will not so far distrust the intelligence even of our opponents, as to offer proof of a fact so well known to all who have any knowledge of the history of the times. It is, however, rather remarkable that this letter should be suffered to rest in such comparative obscurity, while the most questionable acts of General Jackson’s life and administration have been trumpeted forth as evidences of his superior democracy. When his most high-handed measures have ever been most ardently supported by those who have been clamorous in their alarms about the monarchical tendencies of conservative doctrines, it is certainly strange that one of the noblest acts of his life should be seldom mentioned. Over his famous proclamation against the Carolina nullifiers, a veil has been drawn, as though his most devoted friends regarded it as a blot upon his character ; and when we allude to his letter to President Monroe, some most consistent Democrat may perhaps charge it to be a political forgery, designed to represent the old chief as failing in his allegiance to a party which had no existence until some time after it was written. But the letter lives. Many of the General’s present political foes remember it as a redeeming trait in his character ; and it may yet furnish the historian with some materials for his eulogy, and the future moralist a proof how much more valuable are a man’s honest opinions in private life, than those he is made to promulge as the head of a polit-ical |8| party. We would say that the remembrance of this letter might yet furnish the hero of the Hermitage much consolation as he draws nigh the termination of his earthly career, if the charitable supposition had not been prevented by the malignity with which he yet assails Mr. Clay and Mr. Adams, and all who have acted in opposition to any measures of his public life. But to the letter itself. General Jackson directly addresses himself to President Monroe on this very subject of the harmony of the two parties, and its delightful effect upon the returning prosperity of the country. He advises the chief magistrate of the country, as from his high standing in the opinions of the nation he had a perfect right to do, that now was the time to destroy forever the “monster party spirit”—that he should take all pains to promote so high and laudable an object, and that in furtherance of it, he could not do better than to compose his cabinet equally from the two great parties into which the country had been divided. General Jackson a no-party man ! Gen. Jackson a peace-maker ! Gen. Jackson advise the appointment of Federalists to office ! . . . . Let us carry our minds some seven or eight years ahead. There is a change presenting itself worth our notice. Mr. Monroe’s administration had been conducted on the noble, liberal, and most truly national principles contained in this letter, and had passed away. His successor, Mr. Adams, had maintained the same high ground, although tempted to depart from them by the most unprincipled opposition by which a man had ever been assailed. We find this same General Jackson in office, and in a condition where he might have properly carried out his own advice. Can it be the same man ? Could Hazael have known so little of himself ? Would he not once have said, “Is thy servant a dog that he should do this thing ?” But so it is. Humiliating as the fact is to our human nature, the warmest friend, the most determined foe, must both agree, that since the establishment of the Constitution there had not been witnessed an administration in which so bitter a party proscription had been carried on ; no period in which the doctrine was so unblushingly avowed, that to the victor belonged the spoils of the enemy. At no time had the waters of political strife been let out in such an overflowing torrent on the land. A bitterness and savage fierceness unknown | to former conflicts marked all the administration of this most consistent man, and a more proscriptive party never cursed any country than that which had been studiously, designedly, and with the utmost care brought into being and fostered during that period, which, according to the noble principles of his letter to Mr. Monroe, ought to have been the golden age of peace, of harmony, of freedom from party spirit, and united national feeling in the promotion of every beneficent national work. Whence came this wondrous change ? We will do General Jackson the justice to believe that he had been honest in his advice to Monroe. Men are always so in the declaration of their abstract sentiments. The events which followed were not primarily his. There had been an evil genius working in another part of the Union, who, combining subtlety and talent, playing upon the ungovernable passions of the military chieftain, had so transformed the scene, and dissipated the fair prospect which the letter had given reason to expect. Martin Van Buren, during the close of Mr. Monroe’s administration, and the continuance of Mr. Adams’s, had been playing the small game of “the mousing politician” in the State of New York. His circumstances were peculiar. A very great man then possessed the gubernatorial chair of this State. He felt the spirit of the times, and this, combined with the workings of his own noble and elevated intellect, led him to seek for honorable fame in promoting the best interests of his country. Ambitious he was, but ambitious in the noblest sense, to take advantage of returning peace with a foreign nation, and restored unity at home, in projecting and accomplishing that great scheme of national improvement from which we are now reaping such incalculable benefits. This man completely overshadowed Mr. Van Buren. It was a shade from which he could find no way to emerge into that distinction which he so ardently coveted, and which he felt himself unable to obtain by any means requiring the qualifications of a lofty statesmanship. But Mr. Clinton must be supplanted. He was an obstacle bidding defiance to any competition to be waged on any high and honorable grounds. There were, too, at that time, other great men, intimately connected with great national interests, and most honorably known in the national history. Not only Clinton and Adams, but that |9| name at the mention of which even then every heart in the nation warmed—the noble and disinterested statesman of Kentucky—all stood before him. The former, however, was the man, because the nearest impediment ; the rest were assailable in turn. Clinton must be supplanted. But how ? His antagonist had no resources in the field of exalted statesmanship. His name was connected with no services in the war which had just been fought. He had no plans of internal improvement for the benefit of generations yet unborn. He had no reputation in the world of letters and philosophy like his accomplished rival. What, then, were his resources ? They were of a kind corresponding to the dimensions of the man ; and the humiliating recollection that they were successful is almost lost, when we consider the tremendous consequences for evil with which that success was attained. Mr. Van Buren set himself to a task for which his abilities were exactly calculated. He found here and there some, who, amid the general harmony, were mourning in obscure places over that obliteration of party names in which their own small hopes of distinction would be forever blotted out. He began to scheme in secret with congenial spirits, among whom the then patron and political guide of the present loco-foco candidate for governor held an unenviable distinction. These men set themselves to the noble work of stirring up again the dying embers of former party strifes. In the absence of all meritorious deeds, they hoped to rise into distinction by the revival of those old titles which General Jackson had desired to be consigned to eternal oblivion. Wicked and unprincipled men were tempted with the hopes of office, and weak men were found in sufficient numbers to form the materials of the demagogue. Year after year the object was pursued with a pertinacity which is often a trait of the smallest souls. The title of Democrat was exclusively appropriated to themselves, their opponents, in contempt of the trick, silently permitting them to be successful in the petty larceny. A portion of the more unprincipled of the old Federal party attached themselves to this new phœnix of Democracy, which had so little likeness to its alleged sire, and, as might be expected, became Democrats of the most rampant sort. In short, the elements of party conflict were again revived with more than their ancient rancor. | Mr. Clinton and his friends were styled Federalists, for what reason no one could tell ; but Federalists they were, although a great number of the most strenuous members of the old Republican party were among his most ardent supporters. In short, while Mr. Clinton, Mr. Clay, and Mr. Adams were projecting glorious schemes of general improvement, recommending national universities, national observatories, devising plans for a sound national currency, encouraging the efforts of the then dawning Republics in South America, rendering secure the national credit, and giving us a national character, which, but for the subsequent dark days of Democratic repudiation, might have made us the envy of the world—while these true statesmen were thus employed, Mr. Van Buren, and Roger Skinner, and Silas Wright were engaged in the sublime work of rousing the Democracy, of exhuming the buried ghost of Federalism, and holding it up as a scare-crow for those of their followers who had too little intelligence to discern the miserable cheat. They were then all bank men, all tariff men, all internal improvement men, because a sound and wholesome popular sentiment on these subjects then pervaded the country, in place of that spurious vox populi which has since been the product of their own manufacture, and which is the only species of domestic manufacture to which they were ever in heart favorable. But all these matters were held in reserve as subordinate to the other great matter in which they were so zealously employed, namely, the getting up in some way the old party names, and in adroitly taking to themselves that of Democrats. But we have not space to pursue further the wretched details.

It was in this cessation, then, of partisan politics that the new contest commenced, which resulted in the election of General Jackson to the Executive chair. It was a contest whose impress is yet visible upon the features of the country, and the consequences of which have in a great measure controlled the fortunes of political parties. Out of this contest has sprung the radical Democracy of the present period, and as the character and measures of this party have taken their complexion from the character of their leaders and champions, we shall offer no apology for giving a more extended description of both.

In all respects General Jackson was |10| a remarkable man. He possessed in an eminent degree many of those great qualities which give to one an indisputable command over the many. Born upon American soil while this continent owned the sway of the house of Hanover, he enlisted as a soldier of liberty before the flush of manhood had crimsoned his cheek. His growth was in a sparsely settled country, hardly to be distinguished from a wilderness, where the force of law, the restraints of society, and the rules of civilized life have but little weight. In such a situation self-preservation and self-protection are paramount to all other considerations. At an early day he formed such an acquaintanceship with hardships and danger as to give an indelible character to the man in after years. Self-instructed, and with none to render him assistance or to make the opening pathway of life smooth to his steps, without fortune, friends, or adventitious aids, he acquired an independence of thought and action, a disdain of danger, and a contempt of opposition, which followed him through all the vicissitudes of his career. Vigorous in action, energetic in the execution of his plans, ignorant of, or despising, alike the arts of the courtier and the nice distinctions of the casuist, he, in early life, acquired an influence in the border state of Tennessee which never deserted him while he had an ambitious wish to gratify, or a personal desire to be fulfilled. Possessing a haughty and unbending will which would brook no opposition, and which defied with equal boldness the threats of enemies and the entreaties of friends, he had nevertheless obtained an abiding influence over the affections of a vast body of the people, which rendered opposition to him at the polls almost a useless work. It was not because he was deemed a statesman that he was chosen as a candidate for the presidency, in exclusion of the other great men of the Republic. It was not because he was supposed to be possessed of any peculiar insight into the nature of our government, or of any intuitive appreciation of the duties of its chief executive, that the American people bestowed upon him their suffrages almost by acclamation. In an accurate knowledge of the theory and science of government, and of the details of legislation, Webster and Clay, Calhoun and Crawford, were immeasurably his superiors. His immediate predecessor was, without question, the most accomplished | statesman of the day ; profoundly learned in all branches of knowledge, versed in the history of his country, and understanding practically all its varied and multiform interests. Thus endowed, however, for profound and wide-seeing statesmanship, and fitted to be at the head of a great and growing republic, with all its complicated internal and foreign relations—nurtured among the heroes of the era of Independence, and himself the son of a Revolutionary statesman, John Quincy Adams was, notwithstanding, put down by a whirlwind of clamor and abuse, of falsehood and detraction, such as had never been witnessed in the political history of the nation. General Jackson had other claims to popular homage. It was the delusive glory of his military career which gave him this commanding prominence, and secured the enthusiastic support of the people. He had done the country signal service in its struggles with Great Britain ; he had conducted our Indian wars with signal success ; he had “assumed the responsibility,” and invading the territories of another nation without the sanction of his own government, captured its capital, imprisoned its governor, and dictated terms of peace with all the authority of a sovereign. Right or wrong, he never hesitated in his movements ; and, as success invariably attended his undertakings, he gained credit for sagacity and wisdom. The shrewdness of a few leading politicians discovered in his character a combination of all that was requisite in a party leader. He was selected as a candidate ; the new cry of “democracy” was raised ; and the self-commissioned invader of a foreign territory suddenly found himself the idol of a party that was not over-scrupulous in its means of warfare, or in its choice of weapons. The event justified the accuracy of their calculations. The brilliancy of his deeds in the field, the sternness of his character, and the obduracy of his will, was reflected from his person through the long lines of his partisans, until the humblest of his followers was inspired with an ardor which presaged the victory that ensued. In his private life, the conduct of General Jackson had been equally marked by stirring events. Duels, rencontres, and street-fights, where rapidity of movement and personal courage are decisive, were the methods chosen by him to settle private controversies ; and there are probably those now living whose |10| scars bear attestation to his violent prowess. As a legislator he had not distinguished himself, unless it may be in the characteristic threat to cut off the ears of an unlucky member of Congress, who had ventured to inquire somewhat too closely into the legality of his acts. He made no pretensions to learning or scholarship of any kind ; indeed his education was superficial, and but barely sufficient to conduct him decently through life. Such was the history and character of the man who was chosen to preside over a government of seventeen millions of people, as enlightened, at least, as any other portion of the world.

The history of his administration forms a counterpart to his military career and his private life. He entered upon the discharge of the duties of his high office, doubtless, with an honest desire to serve his country faithfully, and with the intention of observing strict justice and equity in regard to men and measures. But the affairs of a great nation, and the diversified interests of a widely-extended country, could not be managed without many differences of opinion arising between the two great parties, nor indeed without creating serious dissensions in the dominant party itself. The plans and policy of the President did not by any means meet with universal favor ; and at the first serious opposition his wrath was kindled. He could never forget or forgive any one who had placed an obstacle in his path from the conception to the accomplishment of a design. Establishing his own opinion as the law of the land, he regarded every man as a villain who withstood his will. Bold measures, hastily conceived, and entered upon with little apparent deliberation, were pertinaciously adhered to, and crammed down the throats of his partisans—not without some grimaces and contortions of countenance. Obedience to the commands of the party had become a settled law ; and as the party derived its vitality and strength from the character and energy of its chief, his simple word was in all controverted cases held paramount to the Constitution. In the matter of infallibility, he was allowed precedence of the Pope. The voice of the people, expressed through their legally chosen representatives, was to him and his adherents as an idle wind : the behests of sovereign States, conveyed through their senatorial guardians, were equally ineffectual.

| At one time the Constitution—the organic law of the land—is not broad enough to meet his purposes. He gives to its provisions an interpretation of such latitudinarian scope as to astonish a section even of his allies, and their anathemas, neither few nor indistinctly uttered, are brought down upon him. At another time he is found to be so far a strict constructionist as to refuse the exercise of those discretionary powers which for great ends have been wisely deposited in the government. It was expected, of course, that he would fill all the chief posts of executive trust with occupants friendly to his interests, and holding similarity of views. Harmony in the government would require this, to say nothing of the policy and propriety of the course on other grounds. But the Dictator went far beyond this point. Acting upon the principle that the honors and emoluments of office were spoils to be awarded to the victors in the political arena, and treating all who were of another party as enemies to their country, he thrust out the thousands of incumbents from the petty posts scattered from Maine to Georgia, and from the Atlantic to the Rocky Mountains. This was done irrespective of their character, services, and situation, till there was hardly a postmaster or petty tide-waiter in office who had not blown his penny trumpet in honor of the victorious chief, or lisped with becoming reverence and precision the shibboleth of “the party.” It is conceded that there was no violation of the Constitution or of express law in this course ; but it was a breach of propriety and a stretch of authority altogether beyond precedent. The effects of this system of rewards and punishment are yet subsisting and apparent : we even fear the practice has become a settled principle in the political code. Its effects are clearly disastrous. It has rendered all our political contests more bitter and acrimonious, corrupted the hearts of thousands with the hopes of gain, and driven the dictates of patriotism and the love of justice into a place of secondary importance in the view of multitudes. Patriotism and the love of place do not go hand in hand. If office be the sure reward of partisan fealty and devotion, hypocrisy and a contempt of the well-being of society will most surely follow. For this innovation in our political system the country must render due thanks to Gen. Jackson. That he was besieged |12| by a host of applicants clamorous for benefactions, and often violated his own views of propriety to favor a friend, is no doubt true ; but this does not lessen the evil nor diminish the responsibility resting with him. He was the President of the nation, but he had not virtue enough to forget that he was the chief of a party. The Whigs contended against the introduction of this system, sternly and consistently ; but the power of a long-dominant, corrupt party in a commonwealth to establish—it may be forever—a custom or a tendency unprincipled in its nature, and demoralizing to the people, has not thus for the first time been signally displayed.

Personal pique undoubtedly added in some degree to the violence of General Jackson’s course, and gave a determinating character to many of the measures of his administration. An enemy was at the head of one of the branches of the late United States Bank. The President failed to influence his removal, and procure the appointment of a friend. The friends and managers of the bank did not consult him in regard to the provisions of the new charter applied for, and he had not succeeded in bringing that institution under his control, impetuous in all things, defying all things, whether of gods or men, this was an opposition to his sultanic will by no means to be endured. He commenced forthwith a war of words and measures against that ill-starred corporation, in which he was backed by all the powers of the government, and aided by all the arts of his shrewd advisers. They first destroyed its business and threw discredit and suspicion upon its solvency, never before suspected ; then by crippling the resources and business interests of the country, they weakened its securities and impeded the collection of its vast and extended claims, till by a series of calamities and governmental hostilities beating upon it, the great fiscal institution of the country fell, irretrievably to the ground, and great was the fall of it. In its ruins were crushed the fortunes of hundreds of widows, and orphans, of innocent men, women, and children, whose entire means of subsistence were embarked in its immense capital. This bank had been chartered by Mr. Madison, than whom a better man or a purer patriot never exercised power in the Republic ; and it had been sustained and aided by nearly all the other Republicans of the day. And it must be | remembered that Gen. Jackson himself did not then profess to be opposed in principle to a bank, but to the bank ; for he expressly declared that if application had been made to him, he could have given Congress a plan for a national bank which would have accomplished the desired end. It was reserved to the patent Democrats of a later day to reach that sublimation of political wisdom which perceives certain ruin in a fiscal charter, federalism in a paper dollar, and rank treason in an innocent bill of exchange. Gen. Jackson was something of a Democrat in his day, but he had not attained this degree of acute discrimination. He was strongly in favor of the State banks, fostered them by all the appliances in his power, induced the creation of hundreds in the place of one, and left the currency of the country in a state of hopeless depreciation.

The destruction of the United States Bank was in reality the great measure of his administration. We may look in vain for any important principle settled by him, or any new theory brought forward, except in regard to the currency. In the management of our foreign interests, the honor of the country was protected, and our relations were generally maintained with dignity and caution. There was one notable instance of impropriety, but that was the error of Mr. Van Buren, his Secretary of State. We allude to the unwarrantable and uncalled-for introduction of our internal political divisions into his official correspondence with Great Britain. This was a proceeding without precedent, in every point of view indefensible, and a disgrace to its author. Whatever may be our internal dissensions, towards all other nations the American people should present an undivided front. National dignity and self-respect require the strict observance of this rule—the honor of the people demands it. In impugning the acts of his predecessors, aspersing their motives before the world, and calumniating a large section if not a great majority of his countrymen, Mr. Van Buren, from his high station, ventured to practise the petty arts which a village demagogue might emulate, but which no enlightened statesman of any party could ever countenance. For this unworthy act, the United States Senate rejected his nomination as Minister to England, and most justly ; and this, we predict, will be the decision of every intelligent and impartial mind, when all personal |13| considerations connected with the question and the times shall be forgotten. Gen. Jackson deemed the castigation which his secretary received as reflecting an indignity upon himself. What could he do but enter the lists in support of his favorite, with his usual vigor ?

While the followers of Gen. Jackson were vociferating their attachment to democracy, and the “largest liberty,” the old chieftain was gradually seizing into his own hands all the powers of the government. He needed only a control over the Senate to have established an absolute despotism. As far as its constitutional rights would allow, that dignified body interposed its authority to check the experiments and violent acts of the executive. His denunciations of its members rung through the length and breadth of the land, were echoed with avidity by the partisan press, and formed the theme of factious declamation at Tammany Hall, and from the rostrums of the club-rooms. The U. S. Senate is a constitutional and competent part of the government, with rights and privileges as well defined as those of the executive ; and we have yet to learn what rule of law, or of propriety even, was violated by it during that period. Yet a stranger in the country, from the frequency and violence of those denunciations, might well have supposed that the Senate was a tyrannical body, established and supported by foreign enemies, and bent upon the destruction of the government. Not content with the immense patronage in the hands of the executive, the influence of which reaches to the extremest limits of the confederacy ; not satisfied with the control of the army and navy, nor with a majority in the House of Representatives, which generally registered his decrees with punctilious servility ; Gen. Jackson exercised an absolute mastery over the Treasury, and through that sought to reach the interests and business of the whole people. He wished to regulate the laws of trade, to fix the limits of individual credit and enterprise, and to keep all conditions and classes of people subservient to executive control. This is no fanciful picture ; the tendency of his measures to centralize the whole force of the government in his own person was marked and apparent. It is needless to say, that the Whig party opposed the dangerous innovations, and sought to protect the people from the injurious effects of violent changes.

| With all his obstinacy and independence, Gen. Jackson was easily controlled by a few designing men who had their own sinister ends in view. Mr. Van Buren, with his usual felicity, had gained a commanding influence over him. His ungovernable passions were played upon in such a way, that while he thought himself the most Roman of the Romans, he became the mere tool of one of the subtlest of demagogues ; and it was soon apparent that a suggestion from that plausible gentleman was sufficient to gain for any new design a ready adoption in the breast of the Dictator. How skilfully that influence was exerted has now become matter of history. At the call of the magician, “spirits came from the vasty deep,” that under better influences would never have seen the light. In the ranks of his own party Mr. Van Buren had many enemies of no mean character and standing. They were all driven from executive favor with as much seeming zeal and alacrity as if they had been open enemies of the republic. As no situation in life, no high degree of ability and attainments, is absolute proof against intrigue and cunning machination, Mr. Van Buren was soon left without a rival either in the cabinet, or in the ranks of the party. Mr. Calhoun was distanced in the race, and finally driven over to the opposition with a great show of indignation and obloquy. Senators White and Rives were disposed of in a manner equally summary ; one cabinet was dismissed without ceremony, and on the most frivolous pretexts, and another was overawed and forced into submission. It may have been purely accidental, but it was a singular circumstance, that in all these commotions and difficulties, whilst other gentlemen were discarded, outcast, overwhelmed, Mr. Van Buren was strengthening his position, and gathering force to reach the station already long occupied in mind by his anticipative ambition. We will not insinuate that he flattered the vanity of the President, or pandered to his prejudices and passions, nor that he used unworthy means to displace his rivals : those who know the habits and character of both will draw their own conclusions. But be this as it may, the last three years of President Jackson’s term were employed, it would seem, almost entirely in preparing the way for the succession of the favorite. He had time, however, to make a fierce war upon the State banks, which had sprung up |14| almost under his supervision, certainly under that of his party. The rays of his indignation were all the fiercer as they radiated from the remains of one dead “monster,” and fell upon the sleek and well-fed corpora pingua of a thousand little ones, so recently the objects of his especial care. An exclusively metallic currency, and a return to the age of iron had now become the desire of his heart, and with this measure bequeathed to his successor his administration closed. He had come into power on a wave of popularity, whose reflux had buried many of his truest friends ; the country had begun to groan under the weight of his measures ; but the power of his name, and the unscrupulous use of executive appliances, were still sufficient to elevate Martin Van Buren to the Presidency.

The Whig party at that time confined its exertions principally to preserve the balance of power between the different branches of the government, as the Constitution had wisely left it. The concentration of all the powers of the government in the hands of one man, was an innovation too dangerous to the safety of our institutions to be sanctioned or permitted. They also endeavored to protect the business interests of the country from the ruin which it was too truthfully predicted would follow the sudden and violent changes recommended by the executive. Exercising a conservative influence then as now, they desired to see the resources of the country developed, and to place the agricultural, mechanic, and manufacturing interests on such a basis as to defy the competition of foreign pauper labor, and the hostility of foreign legislation. The great and distinguishing measures which then divided the two parties are not now in issue before the people. We may dismiss the administration of General Jackson with the remark, that when left to his own better judgment, he acted honestly and uprightly ; but passion and deep prejudices intervened, he was ill-advised and moved by insidious arts and practices, and we believe it not unjust to say, that no President has left so bad an example to posterity. The country owes him a debt of gratitude for his services in the field ; and for these he will be remembered by the American people so long as the broad savannahs of the South shall extend their surface to the sun, or the waters of the Mississippi roll down to | the ocean. We would not detract to the smallest degree from his just claims to respect, but there are points in his civil career which cannot be passed over without the severest condemnation.

The advent of Mr. Van Buren did not at first materially change the situation of parties. He commenced his administration with a formal declaration of his principles at his inauguration. It was really void of meaning except as to one point, and in regard to that he was peculiarly unfortunate. He undertook in advance to veto any law that the National Legislature in its wisdom might enact in reference to a particular subject. The design of this was obvious, and its impropriety equally so. We speak of this without any reference to the merits of that question, in itself considered, and merely as to the promise of the President in advance of legislative action. It conciliated no interests, and displeased if it did not disgust all right-thinking men. All that any party could require of the President was to see that the laws were faithfully administered, and the Constitution of the country observed in all the departments under his control. The caution which he had displayed through life seemed to have deserted him at the very moment when it was most needed. Sagacity and shrewdness were the great characteristics of the man. Never to commit himself upon any great measure so far as to preclude the possibility of advocating either side of the question, unless the popularity of the measure was certain, appears to have been his settled rule. Always plausible, always circumspect and wary, feeling his way by inches, and appearing to follow rather than to lead in the track of popular sentiment, Mr. Van Buren had become the first political tactician of the day. There were no commanding traits in his character at all calculated to enlist the popular enthusiasm in his support ; but possessing decided abilities, great experience, and an intuitive appreciation of character, he was always looked up to as a safe pilot by those who were ambitious of distinction and power in political life. No man could foil an enemy or deceive a friend with a better grace ; and he had the art to do this in such a manner as to be himself, not unsuspected, but unconvicted. The blow fell, but the hand was invisible. Mr. Van Buren was a lawyer by profession, and attained a high standing at the bar.

|15| He was a politician from choice, and the whole energies of his mind were from the first devoted to political strategy. Combining the carefulness of a special pleader with the tact of an advocate, he effected and controlled a more perfect political organization in his native State than has ever existed in this country. By the force of this organization he derived his power. Through it he could, and did, exclude every man from office who stood in his way, manufactured “public opinion” to meet any possible emergency, give to his suggestions the imperiousness of law, and yet completely cover up the while both from the general public and from the common ranks of his own soldiery, at once the movers and the designs. His chief officers were carefully posted with speaking trumpets in various sections of the State. His drill-sergeants were at every corner of the streets, presided over his primary meetings, and packed his conventions with accommodating delegates. By these means perfect uniformity of action was attained ; and the future occupant of the Curule chair succeeded for a series of years in controlling the destinies of the first State in the Republic. It may not be uninstructive to exhibit this precious system in detail ; we will give an outline of it, though we have not space to do justice to the subject.

We may remark, in the first place, that all individual opinions, all personal considerations were to be abandoned, and the “good of the party” made the prominent point of observance. Individual will, and the liberty of speech and action, were as completely subjugated under this system as they were under the religious system of Ignatius Loyola. To speak or to write in advance of the action of the central junto, was a capital sin ; and when the central power had fulminated its decrees, political death was the punishment unhesitatingly inflicted on the disobedient. A State committee was organized at the Capital, whose functions were to mark out the ground for action, select the officers of the day, and define their duties. Subsidiary to this was a central committee in every county in the State, and under the supervision of the county committee were sub-committees in every ward, parish, and town. When the word of command was given, the order reached the various outposts at once, and action was commenced through the whole country long before | the public at the Capital had any intimation of a movement. If a Governor or other high officer of State was to be elected and the particular individual designated for the station, the first indication of action would appear in the shape of a recommendatory article in the columns of a newspaper at some remote point, soon followed by others of a like character in an opposite quarter. These would thicken, until at last the central organ at the Capital, with a prodigious show of candor and disinterestedness, would re-echo this spontaneous burst of “public sentiment,” and with a vast deal of coyness and simple-hearted honesty, venture to give its laudatory opinion. If there was any danger apprehended from independent men, preparation was made for a nominating convention ; and in the construction of such a convention, the machinery of the party was admirably arranged. Each town, ward, and parish sent delegates to a county convention, each county convention elected a prescribed number of representatives to a State convention, and this body made nominations for all State offices. At the primary meetings in the towns the faithful servants of the junto were always in attendance, and took a controlling interest in the proceedings ; and the character of all the conventions was thus easily determined, till at last the State convention found the labor completed to its hands, having merely to sanction what appeared to be the general choice ; and the nominations thus effected were supported at the elections by all the force and power of the united body. The lesser offices in the State were distributed in proportion to party services rendered ; the important stations were always filled by those who moved the wires of the great machine. If there was danger of opposition from any of the lesser lights, some soft appliance, in the shape of office, was employed, and the rebellious spirit quieted. But if a man of character and standing, who was beyond the reach of a bribe, ventured to act independent of this insidious power, to abide by what he felt, to express an opinion of his own, he suddenly found himself branded along the whole line, from Lake Erie to the Hudson, with new and choice epithets, and compelled to flee to the opposition in self-defence.

This was the system of Martin Van Buren—the admired organization—the boasted “union of the democracy.” By |16| it he gained whatever was within the capacity of his ambition ; the country lost as much as it could well bear to lose. All consideration of public good, all the innate patriotism of the heart, private judgment and personal predilections, were swallowed up. Party expediency became the sole rule of action—all else thrust aside. “The party” might and did change its attitude with every change of the moon ; driven in its tergiversations from pillar to post ; advocating a principle and insisting on a measure one year to forswear it the next ; and the whole combination, from high to low, were obliged to follow, and declare with the loudest protestations that they were all the while consistent—veritable democrats—their opponents aristocrats and rank federalists. A great part of the principles which this happy family of patriots advocated from 1830 to 1834, they now denounce as downright heresy. Such was the system of Mr. Van Buren. We have given an outline of it, as forming a part of the history of the times, and because its origin and success is really the only great achievement of his life.

That one so cautious in his general policy, and so uniformly careful to avoid all probable causes of discontent, as Mr. Van Buren had been through his whole life, should have been guilty of a positive impropriety in the first step in his executive career, was a matter of no little surprise to his friends. But his subsequent acts threw this circumstance into the shade, and verified the proverb, that “whom the gods wish to destroy, they first make mad.” His whole administration exhibited a series of measures unfortunate beyond example ; and they fell upon the public with the weight of a mountain. These measures centred upon one point—the currency—in regard to which he followed out the intentions of his “illustrious predecessor.” But the name of that predecessor had lost its charm. The time had gone by when a bad measure, though sealed with the imperial assent, could be forced into popularity. It was discovered at last that even his opinion was not infallible ; that his arbitrary dictum was not sufficient to regulate the laws of trade, and the whole domestic policy of the country. The disorders of the times had opened the eyes of intelligent men. They beheld in the vista, not that golden age which the prophets and seers of the new democracy had predicted, nor that ineffable | state which should betoken the advent of a social and political millennium ; but instead, the confusion of ruin, the very “blackness of darkness,” and all-pervading distress. The previous action of the government had called into being a multitude of local banks, and these institutions had been made the depositaries of the government treasures. Stimulated by this impulse, with a superabundant capital, no power in existence to keep them in check, and relying upon the continuance of government favor, these banks extended their business beyond all bounds of prudence. Speculations in every description of property had become universal ; villages and even cities had sprung up in every nook of the remote wilderness of the West, which needed only buildings, business, and people to render them discoverable by the fortunate purchaser ; and “intrinsic value” had become an obsolete term. This state of things had its origin partly in other causes, but mainly in the action of the government ; and by a more sudden action it was checked. The bubble burst, and carried with it not only the illusory hopes of the rash speculator, but the more solid basis of the prudent and circumspect. Commercial houses that had stood firm through all changes for half a century were crushed ; the activity of business throughout the land was suspended ; confidence, and credit, the result of confidence, were destroyed ; the banks, which had been fostered and then attacked by government, suspended payment ; state obligations were neglected, in some instances repudiated ; and even the federal government could not always meet its own engagements. It was at this juncture that Mr. Van Buren disclosed his great measure, and made it the law of the land. The panacea which he recommended in this disordered state of the body politic was the sub-treasury system ; and this was the principal measure of his administration. The nature and practical operation of this system are now well understood, and need no new elucidation ; the discussions in regard to it have occurred quite too recently to have been forgotten by any observer of events. The introduction of such a system in the most healthy and prosperous times would, of necessity, have produced a disastrous revulsion ; and it then added immeasurably to the public distress. The sole pretext for the measure was to protect the govern-ment |17| from losses by the banks ; the real design was to destroy every moneyed corporation in the land. It is a sufficient commentary to state that the government lost four times as much, in the space of three years, by the faithlessness and rascalities of its sub-treasurers, as it had ever lost by all the banks since the adoption of the constitution. The fallacy of the system was quickly shown. Peculation and corruption became at once the order of the day ; nor was it long before the officer who had only abstracted his hundred thousand was looked upon as a tolerable pattern of sub-treasury trustworthiness. It is fitting to remark, that in 1834, this same sub-treasury scheme was denounced by the whole Van Buren party as a measure unqualifiedly infamous : in 1837, he was equally denounced who was not in its favor :—so much had the new Democracy become enlightened in the interval. A wise statesman, in such a crisis, would have exercised his influence in sustaining both public and private credit. A patriot would have regarded the prosperity and happiness of the people as the great end of all government. Mr. Van Buren regarded “the party” as the object of his especial care, and his own re-election as of greater moment than the welfare of the state.

But in all his measures and plans, President Van Buren was doomed to disappointment. Public dissatisfaction was expressed in all forms, in every section of the country. Even the dominant party was divided and rent in sunder. Party trammels could no longer prevent an honest expression of feeling, and thousands of his friends left his ranks and deserted the measures which had brought down destruction upon their own heads. Mr. Van Buren, however, was determined in his course ; he had taken to his embrace all the ultra-radicals of the country and listened to their counsels. There was not a vagary so wild, nor a theory so impracticable, that it could not find protection and friendship under the robe of the new Democracy. The President still believed in the efficacy of party discipline. Possibly he thought that as Gen. Jackson, in whose footsteps he had declared it was his highest ambition to follow, had succeeded in bold measures and radical innovations, he, too, might gain some laurels by a similar course. But events were otherwise ordered. His course had left him no power except that which was inherent | in the office he held. When the day of trial came, his appeal to the “sober second-thought of the people” was answered by shouts of triumph and songs of rejoicing at the election of Gen. Harrison. As a public man, Mr. Van Buren’s history is ended. Discarded by his own party and distrusted by the other, his career presents the singular spectacle of unvaried success through a long series of years suddenly closed by the most unexampled reverse in the annals of American politics. We believe he has private virtues, and that he may be by education and habit sufficiently well fitted to dignify a private station. In his retirement at Lindenwold he will survey the course of events with calmness and fortitude. He may be visited by the phantoms of ambitious schemes. He will behold the vast shadow of popular power, ever changing like a tumultuous mist in the valley, invite him down to enjoy again the unsubstantial pleasures, unstable triumphs, of a political career. But another and a meaner has been thrust before him ; and he may now employ the leisure and abundant opportunities so kindly afforded, to reflect upon the mutations of the popular will, and to add to his busy experience in life some lessons of philosophic contemplation.

We have presented the prominent points in the history of the last two administrations for the purpose of showing under what circumstances the new Democratic party has perfected its organization. Any mention of the present administration would be out of its order in the narrative. If an exhibition of folly in all its phases is worthy of note, if treachery, perfidy, and imbecility need a record, the administration of John Tyler will demand a separate chapter.

We come, therefore, to the Democracy of the day, renewed into a diseased life from the corrupt remains of the Van Buren party. Professing more than ever an affection for the dear people, more than ever alarmed for the security of freedom and the rights of man, it is desirable to see of what this Democracy really consists.

Every thing has a character of some kind, but it is not always easy to discover what it is. The trouble in this case is, that a mere name, and falsely assumed, as we have seen, has been made a convenient external, universal habit for the party, covering all sorts of form and feature. There is no general character belonging |18| to them, throughout the country, expressed in any defined principles ; it is everywhere traversed and broken asunder by sectional doctrines entirely discordant. They are all democrats ; but their explanation of the happy term is ever according to their locality.

In South Carolina the man would meet with little short of decapitation, who should deny that the term means any thing else than immediate annexation of Texas, Free-Trade, and the Right of Disunion ;—this is the lex loci in that state, as laid down by the elect “chivalry.” In Mississippi the same definition would be given, with Repudiation added, by way of illustrating the privileges of freemen. In Missouri a metallic currency is the popular exposition, joined with hatred of railroads, canals, turnpikes, and common schools. In Pennsylvania it signifies repudiation, if they have a mind for it ; a half-regard for the tariff ; and a Mussulman’s belief in the consistency of James K. Polk. In New Hampshire and Connecticut it embraces whatever heresy is promulgated, and especially rejoices in peculiar ideas of liberty to annul legislative enactments. In Rhode Island the idea is embodied in rebellion against legal government, opposition to constituted authorities, and immunity for plunder and anarchy. In New York it has most of these traits and meanings combined, with several others of less significance.

The cardinal principles, indeed, of the new Democracy are reduced to these two : “regular nominations”—and that “to the victors belong the spoils of the enemy.” All measures of a positive kind, having in view the substantial interests of the country, are constantly avoided ; because on such grounds, it is seen, the harmony of the combination would be constantly endangered. There is something in positive measures which requires discussion, and discussion produces thought, and thought leads to inquiry :—but the Democracy must not think. Hence the conduct of this faction, while it boasts so much of principle and censures its antagonists because like independent men they sometimes differ among themselves, has been ever negative and destructive. It has opposed the protection of the national industry ; it has destroyed the national currency ; it denies to the central government all legitimate and healthy powers, while it has enormously increased its corrupt patronage, | thus tending ever to make it strong for evil and impotent for good. It has always looked with an evil eye upon the national judiciary, because it has instinct, if not intelligence enough, to discern that there can be no friendship between itself and the spirit of constitutional law. It has found its very vital aliment in sowing dissensions between different classes of the community. It has endeavored to set the farmer against the manufacturer, the merchant against both. By its stupid cry of aristocracy, it has sought to engender the most unnatural war between those natural allies, the poor and the rich ; and by its senseless babble about Democracy and Federalism, has aimed to raise up a fiercer party strife than has ever been known in the annals of our nation. This has been the finale of that charming picture of promise which Gen. Jackson presented in his letter to Mr. Monroe. This is the issue which has resulted from a prospect so full of hope which the country presented during the administrations of Monroe and Adams ; and this is the Democracy which now claims the title and inheritance of an honored party, with which it has nothing in common but a name which it has most dishonestly filched, and to which alone it is indebted for more votes than it could have procured from any other cause whatever. This is the new Democracy—the Young Democracy, as some call it : a Democracy with which the Clintons, the Madisons, the Crawfords, and Monroes of former days could have held no communion : a Democracy, the rise of which some of those departed patriots were just permitted to witness and denounce : a Democracy which has so largely figured in the prostration of the industry and currency of the country—in Mississippi repudiation—in South Carolina nullification—in Rhode Island mobs—in Congressional contempt for the most positive statutes—in repeated violations of the Constitution—in Texas treaties—in state bankruptcies, and the assumption of the debts of a foreign state—in a radical spirit spreading far and wide, and which threatens, if unchecked, to break up all the foundations of our government. It is a Democracy which everywhere allies itself with infidelity in religion—which holds in most sovereign contempt the intelligence of the people, as is shown by the arguments it daily addresses to them. It is a Democracy which delights in the dregs of all |19| that was really objectionable in old Federalism, while it indulges in the foulest slander of the man who was the country’s right-arm of strength in her hours of greatest peril. It is a Democracy which although young in years has already given promise of a numerous offspring, each wiser than the sire to which it owes its birth. Already, like some species of prolific cactus, is it sending forth its young shoots in offsets from Tammany, now as little thought of as the present loco-focoism was once, but destined in its time to become the young Democracy of its day, and to have its wild notions respecting community of property and marriage, and its hostility to the monopolies of colleges and academies, become the established doctrines of this ever advancing party. In the progression of ideas it has cast off its original founder, the man from whom it drew the very breath of life, and those who yet remain in its ranks are compelled to quicken their speed to keep up with its rapid pace, and to exhibit such a devotion to the growing spirit of lawlessness as is presented in the letter of Silas Wright to the committee of arrangements at the late Dorr meeting in Providence. So rapid is the Descensus Averni that the acts and writings of the founders of the Republic have long since ceased to furnish matter of appeal to these modern patriots. The name of Washington—(significant omen !)—is never seen in the proceedings and resolutions of their meetings. Even the stale reiteration of Jeffersonian principles is becoming less and less frequent among them. In short, it is in every sense of the word a New Democracy, presenting new issues, new measures of destruction, a new and unexampled spirit of ultra-radicalism, of which those whom they claim as their political progenitors had no conception. And all this marshalled under names as new as this new phase of the party itself, and yet, as they would have us to believe, names of renown, names connected with so many thrilling emotions—Polk, Tyler, and Texas.

Beyond the certainty that evil would follow, it is impossible to predict what the American people have to expect if such a Democracy shall succeed to the government. Certainly under such rule there can be no uniform and settled mode of action in any department of the government. It is the virtuous man only who, acting from deep and abiding principles, is ever consistent and uniform ; | the juggler and the knave must bend to circumstances, and adopt such schemes of villany as the exigencies of his situation may require, to keep his neck from the gallows. We are earnest in this matter. It is a point of infinite moment. Our appeal is made to the clear judgment of the United People. As we have said, there is no really beneficent measure that the new Democracy can agree upon. What then, of benefit, can we look for ? what of prosperity think to retain ? what disasters not fear ? The triumph of such a party, composed as it is of the ends and fragments of faction, would be the prelude to a scene of varying and inconsistent legislation, of temporizing and ill-digested measures, which would be destructive of every rational plan for the good of the commonwealth. No classes would be exempt from the influence of their discordant councils. We are taught by experience. They have heretofore prostrated our commercial, agricultural, and manufacturing interests, and there is nothing in the future to be expected at their hands but anarchy instead of peace and good order, and change in the place of stability. If continued under their guidance, the country would at last be divided into factions, each pursuing its downward course with fatal celerity, crushing in its way all those institutions and laws which have given to the American Union its strength, freedom, and respectability.

What the people of this country now desire and need above all things is stability in the government. We have had, for a series of years, sudden transitions, which inevitably produce disorder. The elasticity of the American people is proverbial. Difficulties seem only to inspire them with courage. The ruinous measures which we have noticed could not long keep them in despair ; and it was a proof of attachment to their institutions, not surpassed in the history of any people, that during all these times, while the whole weight of the federal government was interposed to check prosperity and enterprise, full obedience was rendered to the laws. They trusted to their own future action at the polls to remedy the existing evils. The inscrutable order of Providence deprived them of the President of their choice, and thereby of the means of effecting the desired reform, and as yet but one ameliorating measure has been adopted. A Whig Congress has given the country a protective tariff.

|20| Under its operation the national revenues have increased beyond the hopes of the most sanguine : industry has revived ; workshops have been opened that had long been closed ; and a new impulse has been given to all branches of enterprise. Facts give more light to men’s minds than any series of reasonings. Is not, then, such a measure worthy of support ? The conservative part of the Union are committed in favor of the protective policy, on the high ground of principle, and its candidate for the presidency is the father of the system. With Henry Clay at the head of the government, though the details of the law may undergo such modifications as the exigencies of the public may require, the people will have a guarantee that the principle itself will be sustained. On the other hand, the great body of the Democratic party are opposed to the principle. They hold up for the first office in the gift of the people a man, whose whole public course, his votes in Congress, public speeches and acts, convict him of a deep hostility to the system. This is openly proclaimed by his friends at the South, and no man there has the hardihood, and probably not the wish, to deny it. At the North, where the measure is popular, an attempt has been made to create a contrary impression, in direct contradiction of public records and established facts. It is sufficient that in his own neighborhood and state, Col. Polk’s friends present it as the strongest inducement to public favor, that he is an uncompromising enemy to the whole protective policy. Duplicity like this is a sufficient condemnation of any party. In the event of his election, one portion of the people, at least, must be deceived by him, and it requires no gift of prophecy to determine on which the effects of the deception will fall.

The Whig party are also in favor of a wise and beneficent system of internal improvement. That whatever is national in character, or is evidently conducive to the common good, should be done at the common expense by the federal government, would seem to be the dictate of good sense and sound policy. The early and earnest action of the government on this subject, is conclusive evidence that the sages and patriots to whom we are indebted for our freedom and our constitution did not entertain such narrow views of the duties and powers of the general government as the | modern Democracy has adopted. But it is remembered that destructiveness is an element in the character of that party ; they talk ever of progress, but it is not progression for good. The remembrance comes from fourteen years of their legislative sway in the State and in the nation. That the country has improved in any respect during that time, is owing to causes beyond the entire control of any party. The energy of our people, the fertility of our soil, the genial nature of the climate, and the security afforded for life, liberty, and property by the organic laws of the land, are happily beyond the reach of party power. In spite of bad administrations, natural causes have added to the growth and power of the nation. Under other rule it might have been half a century in advance of its present position. The people do not ask favors of their government, but they demand that its action shall not be always adverse to public good. Those whose very existence is bound up in partisan schemes, and whose only labor is the toil for office, seem to regard the interests of government and people as distinct. The people themselves are content when the government discharges its functions with fairness and equity ; but they will not suffer their own public servants to play the part of tyrants and task-masters.

Above all, the Whig party contends for the integrity of the Union. For the mere acquisition of territory they will not consent to disturb the harmony and relationship which now exist among the States. No true-hearted American will stop to calculate the possible value of mortgaged lands in the wilderness, while there exists any danger that their acquisition will bring disgrace upon the character of the nation, or sunder the ties that have hitherto bound us together. He will look with indignation upon that flag, flung to the breeze in one section of the country, inscribed with those words of dark omen, “Free-TradeTexasDisunion !” If his heart beats with one patriotic emotion, he will be found only under the banner of stars and stripes, which in every latitude protects and shields the American citizen. Is there an American who does not appreciate the benefits and blessings of the Union ? Let him cast his eyes across the ocean, and see men fighting with their fellows for the very crumbs that fall from the beggar’s hand—unpaid labor and luxurious indolence—excesses of wealth, and the direst |21| poverty—pauperism in all its disgusting forms—taxes on all things, from the light of heaven to the furniture of the grave—and a soldier at every door. Let him then return to his own country and reflect, that within a century, and under the constitution formed by his fathers, it has grown great and prosperous—its population increased from three millions to twenty millions of people—its commerce extended until its flag casts a shadow upon every sea—its population well fed, well paid, and equally protected by the laws ? he will then no longer disregard the importance of domestic peace and unity, but will nerve himself for every contest in which he can do service for the Constitution and the Union.

The American Review : A Whig Journal…, Vol. I, No. I, Introductory, January 1845

About The American Whig Review:

See Presentation and Links to Articles in Chronological Order for The American Whig Review.

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We shall add between the title of the volume and the title of the article, the information of the Index of the volume which may include the name or pseudonym of the author.

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[Extract of] THE AMERICAN REVIEW : A WHIG JOURNAL OF POLITICS, LITERATURE, ART, AND SCIENCE, Vol. I. JANUARY, 1845.*|1| No. I.—pp. 1–4

[Excerpt from Index to Vol. I. :] Introductory Address to Vol. I., 1.

|1| INTRODUCTORY.

In presenting to the public the first number of “The American Review,” it will not be inappropriate to set forth the reasons that have led to its establishment. This is not because custom has made it proper, or that the public have a right to expect from each new actor a preliminary bow ; but mainly because the reasons themselves are of weighty and earnest import. They arise on different grounds, and present their appeal by different considerations ; but the result from them all is a united voice that speaks to the American people.

The predominant interests of our countrymen are involved in the issue of great and often-recurring political contests. These contests are always of prevailing concern, at times all-absorbing ; and the leading intellects of the country, so long as our institutions shall happily remain free, must be largely devoted to the discussion of questions pertaining to the management of the national government. As the country progresses in extent and increases in population and wealth, these questions are becoming more varied and complicated. The necessity for new measures, and for the enlarged application of established principles to meet the exigencies of the times, demands constant action on the part of those to whom the people have committed their most sacred interests ; and the formation of parties taking antagonistical positions | on these matters is a necessary result, aside from the inducements to division arising from personal ambition, cupidity, and love of place and power, which are found mixed up with all human affairs. Of such organizations, numerously existing or constantly springing up, the greater part are indeed of a local nature, or grow out of temporary excitements : two, however, embrace nearly all the rest, and mainly divide the commonwealth.

These great organizations are born of different elements, exist by different means and in a different atmosphere. In every thing of vital concern, their relation, by principles, policy, practice, is that of natural, unavoidable opposition.

The one is in all things essentially conservative, and at the same time is the real party of progress and improvement. It commends itself to the people, and is supported by them, not less for its rigid adherence to the Republican creed—for its unwavering support of constitutional and established rights, and its endeavors to preserve law, liberty, and order inviolate—than for the ameliorating and liberalizing tendency of its principles and policy. Such is that portion of the community who have justly adopted from the men of the Revolution the ever-honored title of Whigs. In all that tends to give strength to the confederacy, and knit together its various sections by the indissoluble bands of a common interest and |2| affection, the Whig party occupy the advance ground. Protection to the laborer and the producer, to the merchant and manufacturer ; integrity and economy in the discharge of official trusts ; the vigilant defence, as against the world, of national dignity and honor ; the observance of honor and good faith in all our dealings with and treatment of other nations ; the establishment and maintenance of a sound currency ; an enlargement of the means of revenue, and a proper provision for its safe-keeping ; an extension of the resources of the country by the construction of harbors, roads, and canals, as the wants of the people demand them ; a vigorous administration of the laws ; the separation of the seats of justice, by all possible barriers, from popular impression ; the adoption, by constitutional means, of such regulations as shall confine the exercise of Executive power within due bounds ; the general promotion of knowledge, and an enlargement of the means of education ;—these form an outline of the distinctive principles of the Whig party, and by these and other cognate sentiments and measures it will be known to posterity. When the personal rivalries and partisan asperities of the day shall have been forgotten, and the mellowing hand of Time shall have consigned to the Future only the virtues of the Present, the positions and aims of the Whig party will stand out like watch-towers and beacon-lights on the mountain side, and be referred to and quoted as monuments to inspire, as precedents to guide, another race of statesmen and patriots ; and whatever it may now do, the world will then acknowledge the moral heroism of those who, doubtless with some defects and some temporary mistakes, yet withstood in their day, the tide of corruption, the insidious arts of demagogues, and the clamors of faction, and taking their stand on the platform of the Constitution, defended the honor and integrity of their country from open and secret assault, and preserved to their countrymen the inestimable blessings of a good government.

The other great political division is as essentially anarchical in its principles and tendencies. In saying this, we would not be understood as denying to the body of its members their claims to sincerity ; for the mass of a people, whatever may be their predilections, and however erroneous their views, are unquestionably sincere and honest in their | professions. But whatever the pretensions of their leaders may be, they are practically working to destroy the prosperity of the nation, to corrupt the morals of the people, to weaken the authority of law, and utterly to change the primitive elements of the government. We know that these are grave charges : we believe that they can be substantiated.

A portion of the evidence lies in actual results. It is an unhappy and imperishable part of the national history. Professing an exclusively democratic creed, and a desire to advance the “greatest good of the greatest number,” the period of the dominancy of this party in the government has been signalized by widespread ruin and distress, as plainly as the smouldering pile and the ravaged field ever marked the course of an invading army. A profligate waste of the national treasures ; a general depression in all the various branches of business and enterprise ; the country without a currency at all equal to its wants ; the checking, at a vast loss, the progress of internal improvements ; a depreciation of nearly every species of property ; a denial to the people of their only means of securing an adequate market for the products of the soil, cheating honest industry of its rewards ; a dishonorable feeling with respect to public debts ; a blind obedience to party dictation, in which the voice of conscience is stifled and patriotism and the eternal rules of justice thrown aside as worthless considerations ; a corruption of the elective franchise ; the civil power set at defiance ; countenance and support given to organized revolutionary parties acting in direct hostility to the laws, and in subversion of all government ; the basest perfidy towards an unoffending nation proposed and upheld, and a candidate for the dignities of the chief magistracy selected on account of his willingness to carry out the foul design ;—these acts and consequences have attached themselves to and distinguished the party which has strangely arrogated to itself the title of Democratic, as if democracy consisted not in levelling-up and preserving, but in reducing all things to an equality of degradation and ruin.

Yet these, however disastrous, are less to be regarded. Practical errors of individuals or of nations are comparatively of little consequence. They are of the present, and may be retrieved. They belong soon to history, and their |3| effects become weaker with remoteness in the past. It is the elements native to the character, the ineradicable principles and tendencies, that are of abiding concern. And these, with the party of whom we speak, appear to us thoroughly wrong and pernicious. As we have said, the mass of them are doubtless sincere ; but they receive doctrines from designing leaders, of which they recognise neither the nature nor the end. They are led on they know not well to what ; but discerning men in the Republic cannot fail to see that they are, in different ways, according to different sections of the community, practically working to relax the whole spirit of law among us, to disorganize and change the original framework and proportions of our government, and, under the deceptive name of advancement, insensibly descending in a rapid progression to evil. There is scarcely any dangerously radical opinion, any specious, delusive theory, on social, political, or moral points, which does not, in some part of the country, find its peculiar aliment and growth among the elements of that party. They are not content with sober improvement ; they desire a freedom larger than the Constitution. They have a feeling, that the very fact that an institution has long existed, makes it insufficient for the growth of the age—for the wonderful demands of the latter-day developments. In a word, change with them is progress ; and whenever the maddened voice of faction, or the mercenary designs of party leaders demand a triumph over established institutions and rightful authority, they rush blindly but exultingly forward, and call it “reform.” It is thus, that in some sections of the Union they have sought to make the judiciary, which of all elements in a government should be left free from external influences, subject to periodical revolution by the people, and have shown themselves ready to set aside the most solemn state covenants on a bare change of majorities. It is thus, that in other sections they have exhibited a marked hostility to useful corporations, even to the crying down of institutions of learning as aristocratic monopolies. It is thus that everywhere, and at all times, they have been disposed to make the stability of legislation dependent on the dominancy of a party, and to consider the idea of law as having no majesty, no authority, no divine force inherent in itself—as not a great Idea enthroned among | men, coeval with Eternal Justice, which feeling alone can keep it from being trampled under foot of the multitude—but as derived from, and existing by, the uncertain sanctions of the popular will. And in all this they are not merely loosening the foundations of order and good government : they are paving the way—first, indeed, to anarchy, but next to despotism. For while in the false idea of “liberty” and “progress” they would deny the existence or renounce the exercise of those large and beneficent constitutional powers provided by the sages of the Revolution, they permit their acknowledged exponents to usurp the most extended and unlawful authority, and would give to the Chief Executive a power most liable to be abused, and greater than is possessed by the crowned head of any constitutional monarchy in Christendom.

To resist earnestly and unweariedly these destructive measures and principles, and, in so doing, to support freely and openly the principles and measures of the Whig party, is one great object of this Review. Yet in this we claim that degree of independence which every right-minded man in the Republic should vindicate—liberty to judge for ourselves as great interests change and new events arise.

The need of such a journal has long been deeply and widely felt. The Whig newspaper press is conducted with a degree of ability and address never perhaps excelled in any country ; but its expositions and appeals are necessarily brief, and but by few either remembered or preserved beyond the occasion which calls them forth. The Review will be a means of presenting more grave and extended discussions of measures and events, and of better preserving them to after times. But aside from the important field of national politics, there is yet another, vaster and more varied, demanding as constant and stern a conflict for the truth and the right, and making far larger requisitions on the intellect and attainments of whoever would earnestly work for the well-being of his country. We speak of the great field of literature, philosophy, and morals. It is not to be doubted, indeed, that these, from the nature of things, are so closely blended with all other elements that go to compose a state, as to make whatever influences affect these vitally, affect also, for evil or for good, the entire political fabric. We have the voice of history |4| to this conclusion, since great governments have never fallen but by being first corrupted and undermined by the speculations of ignorant, or fancy-ridden, or designing men. But in relations of their own—above the form politic—as affecting those higher destinies of men, their social, intellectual, spiritual existence, they are of importance never to be estimated. And the aspect of the times reflects on them a yet more grave and serious import. There has been no age of the world in which the physical energies of men have effected so rapid and wonderful achievements—no age in which their intellects have been sharpened to greater acuteness—and no age rifer with all speculative errors, with the falsest principles of taste in art and literature, with subtle delusions affecting the whole foundations of the social system. It becomes thus an age bearing in its bosom mighty and doubtful issues for the future. And this, whether we look to the eastern or the western hemisphere. The institutions of Europe seem rapidly verging to dissolution. Old forms have passed away—old foundations have been broken up. Though the convulsions of a former age, which threw down many dynasties, and thrones, and ancient usages, appear now fully subsided, it is but a deceitful calm. There is yet a power abroad on the surface of society, and a commotion in its lowest depths, fearfully ominous of some of those great events which change the face of the moral world, and shake it to its centre.

In our own country, likewise, the same restlessness is bearing us hurriedly onward, but we fear to worse ends. The nations of Europe are restless under the burden of oppression ; we are restless under the weight of mere duty and custom.

We are a people eager for novelty ; we care more for the newness of a thing than for its authority. This is a trait which, while it opens the way to striking physical improvement, has an unfavorable influence upon us in many respects. It affects our morals, since morality can have no sober growth but on a ground of stability and recognised truth. It affects all our philosophy and speculative belief, since old opinions, however well considered and just, are readily abandoned for new ones. It affects all regular formation of national custom and character, because we suffer our tastes and habits to be continually changing. It especially affects, what must have all these for a | partial foundation—the growth of our national literature. For if tastes may change and customs be laid aside with the hour, and opinions be held no longer than they are able to excite, and faith be considered a matter of choice, it is obvious that our literature must be forever unsubstantial and fugitive. It can have no dignity, because no consistency—little beauty as a whole, because little harmony of the parts—no great body of impression, from the want of uniformity among its effective elements.

Our literature has never been sufficiently earnest. It has been too much the product of light moments, of impulsive efforts, of vacation from other and engrossing employments. There have been many graceful and pleasing productions, and some exhibiting a degree of power that justifies the highest hopes of what might be ; but few great designs, long considered and carefully planned out, have been entered upon with that serious and stern determination with which Milton commenced a work “which posterity should not willingly let die.” But surely, if literature has, what we know it has ever had, a forming influence on the minds of those who form and rule the minds of the multitude, it is not a light thing, a thing to be played with at languid intervals as one of life’s ornaments, but a matter to be borne in hand with earnest and fixed resolves. We are speaking here of original works among us ; but what shall we say of the criticism of the times ? We confess to an almost total distrust of its judgments. Never exhibiting great independence or power of discerning, it has grown of late even more slavish, weak, and meaningless. Foreign productions sent over, ticketed and labelled, receive an imprimatur accordingly ; the writings of our own countrymen, deserving of cordial and ready praise, must often wait for the dicta of foreign judges ; and a sea of trash seems rapidly swallowing up the delicate perceptions, and calm thought, both of critics and people.

For these reasons also, in addition to those of a political nature, has it been determined, “quod bonum, felix, faustumque sit,” to establish a national Review. Adding only, that all sectarian discussions and all sectional controversies will be avoided, so that the work may be of equal acceptability in every part of the country, we ask for it a support according to the character it shall be found to bear.

Notes

*|1|.

The Review is intended to date from the beginning of the year 1845 ; though the first number, as advertised, has been issued preliminarily in the autumn.