was born in the county of Wicklow, in Ireland, in 1831. He was
educated at Queen's College, Belfast, read for a short time for the
English bar, but drifted into journalism by accepting the post of
correspondent to the London _Daily News_ during the Crimean War in
1853-54. The horror of war which he retained through his life was due
to the glimpse of it he had in the Crimea. Soon afterwards he went to
America, was admitted to the bar in New York, but never practised,
spent some months in travelling through the Southern States on
horseback, learning thereby what slavery was, and what its economic
and social consequences, was for two or three years a writer on the
_New York Times_, and ultimately, in 1865, established in New York a
weekly journal called the _Nation_. This he continued to edit, writing
most of it himself, till 1881, when he accepted the editorship of the
_New York Evening Post_, an old and respectable paper, but with no
very large circulation. The _Nation_ continued to appear, but became
practically a weekly edition of the _Evening Post_, or rather, as some
one said, the _Evening Post_ became a daily edition of the _Nation_,
for the tone and spirit that had characterised the _Nation_ now
pervaded the _Post_. In 1900 failing health compelled him to retire
from active work, and in May 1902 he died in England. Journalism left
him little leisure for any other kind of literary production; but he
wrote in early life a short history of Hungary; and a number of
articles which he had in later years contributed to the _Nation_ or to
magazines were collected and published in three volumes between 1895
and 1900. They are clear and wise articles, specially instructive
where they deal with the most recent aspects of democracy. But as they
convey a less than adequate impression of the peculiar qualities which
established his fame, I pass on to the work by which he will be
remembered, his work as a weekly and daily public writer.
He was well equipped for this career by considerable experience of the
world, by large reading, for though not a learned man, he had
assimilated a great deal of knowledge on economical and historical
subjects, and by a stock of positive principles which he saw clearly
and held coherently. In philosophy and economics he was a Utilitarian
of the school of J. S. Mill, and in politics what used to be called a
philosophical Radical, a Radical of the less extreme type, free from
sentiment and from prejudices, but equally free from any desire to
destroy for the sake of destroying. Like the other Utilitarians of
those days, he was a moderate optimist, expecting the world to grow
better steadily, though not swiftly; and he went to America in the
belief that he should there find more progress secured, and more of
further progress in prospect, than any European country could show. It
was the land of promise, in which all the forces making for good on
which the school of Mill relied were to be found at work, hampered
only by the presence of slavery. I note this fact, because it shows
that the pessimism of Mr. Godkin's later years was not due to a
naturally querulous or despondent temperament.
So too was his mind admirably fitted for the career he had chosen.
It was logical, penetrating, systematic, yet it was also quick and
nimble. His views were definite, not to say dogmatic, and as they were
confidently held, so too they were confidently expressed. He never
struck a doubtful note. He never slurred over a difficulty, nor
sought, when he knew himself ignorant, to cover up his ignorance.
Imagination was kept well in hand, for his constant aim was to get
at and deal with the vital facts of every case. If he was not
original in the way of thinking out doctrines distinctively his own,
nor in respect of any exuberance of ideas bubbling up in the
course of discussion, there was fertility as well as freshness in
his application of principles to current questions, and in the
illustrations by which he enforced his arguments.
As his thinking was exact, so his style was clear-cut and trenchant.
Even when he was writing most swiftly, it never sank below a high
level of form and finish. Every word had its use and every sentence
told. There was no doubt about his meaning, and just as little about
the strength of his convictions. He had a gift for terse vivacious
paragraphs commenting on some event of the day or summing up the
effect of a speech or a debate. The touch was equally light and firm.
But if the manner was brisk, the matter was solid: you admired the
keenness of the insight and the weight of the judgment just as much as
the brightness of the style. Much of the brightness lay in the humour.
That is a plant which blossoms so much more profusely on Transatlantic
soil that English readers of the _Nation_ had usually a start of
surprise when told that this most humorous of American journalists was
not an American at all but a European, and indeed a European who never
became thoroughly Americanised. It was humour of a pungent and
sarcastic quality, usually directed to the detection of tricks or the
exposure of shams, but it was eminently mirth-provoking and never
malicious. Frequently it was ironical, and the irony sometimes so fine
as to be mistaken for seriousness.
The _Nation_ was from its very first numbers so full of force,
keenness, and knowledge, and so unusually well written, that it made
its way rapidly among the educated classes of the Eastern States. It
soon became a power, but a power of a new kind. Mr. Godkin wanted
most of the talents or interests of the ordinary journalist. He
gave no thought to the organisation of the paper as a business
undertaking. He scarcely heeded circulation, either when his
livelihood depended upon the _Nation_ of which he was the chief
owner, or when he was associated with others in the ownership of
the _Evening Post_. He refused to allow any news he disapproved,
including all scandal and all society gossip, to appear. He was
prepared at any moment to incur unpopularity from his subscribers, or
even to offend one half of his advertisers. He took no pains to get
news before other journals, and cared nothing for those "beats" and
"scoops" in which the soul of the normal newspaper man finds a
legitimate source of pride. He was not there, he would have said,
to please either advertisers or subscribers, but to tell the American
people the truths they needed to hear, and if those truths were
distasteful, so much the more needful was it to proclaim them. He
was absolutely independent not only of all personal but of all party
ties. A public man was never either praised or suffered to escape
censure because he was a private acquaintance. He once told me that
the being obliged to censure those with whom he stood in personal
relations was the least agreeable feature of his profession.
Whether an act was done by the Republicans or by the Democrats
made no difference to his judgment, or to the severity with which his
judgment was expressed. His distrust of Mr. James G. Blaine had led
him to support Mr. Cleveland at the election of 1884, and he
continued to give a general approval to the latter statesman during
both his presidential terms. But when Mr. Cleveland's Venezuelan
message with its menaces to England appeared in December 1895, Mr.
Godkin vehemently denounced it, as indeed he had frequently before
blamed particular acts of the Cleveland administrations. He
sometimes voted for the Republicans, sometimes for the Democrats,
according to the merits of the transitory issue or the particular
candidate, but after 1884 no one could have called him either a
Republican or a Democrat.
Independence of party is less rare among American than among European
newspapers; but courage such as Godkin's is rare everywhere. The
editor of a century ago had in most countries to fear press
censorship, or the law of political libel, or the frowns of the great.
The modern editor, delivered from these risks, is exposed to the more
insidious temptations of financial influence, of social pressure, of
the fear of injuring the business interests of the paper, which are
now sometimes enormous. Godkin's conscientiousness and pride made him
equally indifferent to influence and to threats. As some one said,
you might as well have tried to frighten the east wind. Clear, prompt,
and self-confident, judging everything by a high standard of honour
and public spirit, he distributed censure with no regard either to the
official position or to the party affiliations of politicians. The
"Weekly Day of Judgment" was the title bestowed upon the _Nation_ by
Charles Dudley Warner, who himself admired it. As Godkin expected--or
at least demanded--righteousness from every one, he was more a terror
to evildoers than a praise to them that do well, and the fact that,
having no private ends to serve, he thought only of truth and the
public interest, made him all the more stringent. Because he was, and
found it easy to be, fearless and independent, he scarcely allowed
enough for the timidity of others, and sometimes chastised the weak as
sternly as the wicked. An editor who smites all the self-seekers and
all the time-servers whom he thinks worth smiting, is sure to become a
target for many arrows. But as Godkin was an equally caustic critic of
the sentimental vagaries or economic heresies of well-meaning men or
sections of opinion, he incurred hostility from quarters where the
desire for honest administration and the purity of public life was
hardly less strong than in the pages of the _Nation_ itself. Though he
took no personal part in politics, never appeared on platforms nor in
any way put himself forward, his paper was so markedly himself that
people talked of it as him. It was not "the _Nation_ says" or "the
_Post_ says," but "Godkin says." Even his foreign birth was charged
against him--a rare charge in a country so tolerant and catholic as
the United States, where every office except that of President is open
to newcomers as freely as to the native born.
He was called "un-American," and I have heard men who admired and read
the _Nation_ nevertheless complain that they did not want "to be
taught by a European how to run this Republic." True it is that he did
not see things or write about them quite as an American would have
done. But was this altogether a misfortune? The Italian cities of the
Middle Ages used to call in a man of character and mark from some
other place and make him Podesta just because he stood outside the
family ties and the factions of the city. Godkin's foreign education
gave him detachment and perspective. It never reduced his ardour to
see administration and public life in America made worthy of the
greatness of the American people.
No journal could have maintained its circulation and extended its
influence in the face of so much hostility except by commanding
merits. The merits of the _Nation_ were incontestable. It was the best
weekly not only in America but in the world. The editorials were
models of style. The book reviews, many of them in earlier days also
written by Godkin himself, were finished in point of form, and, when
not his own, came from the ablest specialist hands in the country. The
"current notes" of progress in such subjects as geography, natural
history, and archaeology were instructive and accurate. So it was that
people had to read the _Nation_ whether they liked it or not. It could
not be ignored. It was a necessity even where it was a terror.
Yet neither the force of his reasoning nor the brilliance of his
style would have secured Godkin's influence but for two other
elements of strength he possessed. One was the universal belief in his
disinterestedness and sincerity. He was often charged with prejudice
or bitterness, but never with any sinister motive; enemies no less
than friends respected him. The other was his humour. An austere
moralist who is brimful of fun is rare in any country. Relishing
humour more than does any other people, the Americans could not be
seriously angry with a man who gave them so abundant a feast.
To trace the course he took in the politics of the United States since
1860 would almost be to outline the history of forty years, for
there was no great issue in the discussion of which he did not bear a
part. He was a strong supporter of the Northern cause during the
War of Secession, and by his letters to the London _Daily News_ did
something to enlighten English readers. When the problems of
reconstruction emerged after the war, he suggested lines of action
more moderate than those followed by the Republican leaders, and
during many subsequent years denounced the "carpet-baggers," and
advocated the policy of restoring self-government to the Southern
States and withdrawing Federal troops. Incensed at the corruption of
some of the men who surrounded President Grant during his first
term, he opposed Grant's re-election, as did nearly all the
reformers of those days. By this time he had begun to attack the
"spoils system," and to demand a reform of the civil service, and he
had also become engaged in that campaign against the Tammany
organisation in New York City which he maintained with unabated energy
till the end of his editorial career.[58] In 1884 he led the
opposition to the candidacy of Mr. Blaine for President, and it
was mainly the persistency with which the _Evening Post_ set forth
the accusations brought against that statesman that secured his defeat
in New York State, and therewith his defeat in the election. It
was on this occasion that the nickname of Mugwump[59] was first
applied to Mr. Godkin by the ablest of his antagonists in the press,
Mr. Dana of the _New York Sun_, a title before long extended to the
Independents whom the _Post_ led, and who constituted, during the
next ten or twelve years, a section of opinion important, if not
by its numbers, yet by the intellectual and moral weight of the men
who composed it. When currency questions became prominent, Mr.
Godkin was a strong opponent of bimetallism and of "silverism" in
all its forms, and a not less strenuous opponent of all socialistic
theories and movements. It need hardly be added that he had always
been an upholder of the principles of Free Trade. Like a sound
Cobdenite, he was an advocate of peace, and disliked territorial
extension. He opposed President Grant's scheme for the acquisition
of San Domingo, as he afterwards opposed the annexation of Hawaii.
His close study of Irish history, and his old faith in the principle
of nationality, had made him a strenuous advocate of Home Rule for
Ireland. But no one was farther than he from sharing the feelings of
the American Irish towards England. He condemned the threats
addressed in 1895 to Great Britain over the Venezuela question; and
glad as he was to see that question settled by England's acceptance
of an arbitration which she had previously denied the right of the
United States to demand, he held that England must beware of yielding
too readily to pressure from the United States, because such
compliance would encourage that aggressive spirit in the latter whose
consequences for both countries he feared. Never, perhaps, did he
incur so much obloquy as in defending, almost single-handed, the
British position in the Venezuelan affair. The attacks made all over
the country on the _Evening Post_ were, he used to say, like storms of
hail lashing against his windows. At the very end of his career,
he resisted the war with Spain and the annexation of the Philippine
Islands, deeming the acquisition of trans-Oceanic territories,
inhabited by inferior races, a dangerous new departure, opposed to
the traditions of the Fathers of the Republic, and inconsistent with
the principles on which the Republic was founded. No public writer
has left a more consistent record.
In private life Mr. Godkin was a faithful friend and a charming
companion, genial as well as witty, considerate of others, and liked
no less than admired by his staff on the _Evening Post_, free from
cynicism, and more indulgent in his views of human nature than might
have been gathered from his public utterances. He never despaired of
democratic government, yet his spirits had been damped by the faint
fulfilment of those hopes for the progress of free nations, and
especially of the United States, which had illumined his youth. The
slow advance of economic truths, the evils produced by the increase of
wealth, the growth of what he called "chromo-civilisation," the
indifference of the rich and educated to politics, the want of nerve
among politicians, the excitability of the masses, the tenacity with
which corruption and misgovernment held their ground, in spite of
repeated exposures, in cities like New York, Philadelphia, and
Chicago--all these things had so sunk into his soul that it became
hard to induce him to look at the other side, and to appreciate the
splendid recuperative forces which are at work in America. Thus his
friends were driven to that melancholy form of comfort which consists
in pointing out that other countries are no better. They argued that
England in particular, to which he had continued to look as the home
of political morality and enlightened State wisdom, was suffering from
evils, not indeed the same as those which in his judgment afflicted
America, but equally serious. They bade him remember that moral
progress is not continuous, but subject to ebbs of reaction, and that
America is a country of which one should never despair, because in it
evils have often before worked out their cure. He did regretfully own,
after his latest visits to Europe, that England had sadly declined
from the England of his earlier days, and he admitted that the clouds
under which his own path had latterly lain might after a time be
scattered by a burst of sunshine; but his hopes for the near future of
America were not brightened by these reflections. Sometimes he seemed
to feel--though of his own work he never spoke--as though he had
laboured in vain for forty years.
If he so thought, he did his work far less than justice. It had told
powerfully upon the United States, and that in more than one way.
Though the circulation of the _Nation_ was never large, it was read by
the two classes which in America have most to do with forming
political and economic opinion--I mean editors and University
teachers. (The Universities and Colleges, be it remembered, are far
more numerous, relatively to the population, in America than in
England, and a more important factor in the thought of the country.)
From the editors and the professors Mr. Godkin's views filtered down
into the educated class generally, and affected its opinion. He
instructed and stimulated the men who instructed and stimulated the
rest of the people. To those young men in particular who thought about
public affairs and were preparing themselves to serve their country,
his articles were an inspiration. The great hope for American
democracy to-day lies in the growing zeal and the ripened intelligence
with which the generation now come to manhood has begun to throw
itself into public work. Many influences have contributed to this
result, and Mr. Godkin's has been among the most potent.
Nor was his example less beneficial to the profession of journalism.
There has always been a profusion of talent in the American press,
talent more alert and versatile than is to be found in the press of
any European country. But in 1865 there were three things which the
United States lacked. Literary criticism did not maintain a high
standard, nor duly distinguish thorough from flashy or superficial
performances. Party spirit was so strong and so pervasive that
journalists were content to denounce or to extol, and seldom subjected
the character of men or measures to a searching and impartial
examination. There was too much sentimentalism in politics, with too
little reference of current questions to underlying principles, too
little effort to get down to what Americans call the "hard pan" of
facts. In all these respects the last forty years have witnessed
prodigious advances; and, so far as the press is concerned--for much
has been due to the Universities and to the growth of a literary
class--Mr. Godkin's writings largely contributed to the progress made.
His finished criticism, his exact method, his incisive handling of
economic problems, his complete detachment from party, helped to form
a new school of journalists, as the example he set of a serious and
lofty conception of an editor's duties helped to add dignity to the
position. He had not that disposition to enthrone the press which made
a great English newspaper once claim for itself that it discharged in
the modern world the functions of the mediaeval Church. But he brought
to his work as an anonymous writer a sense of responsibility and a
zeal for the welfare of his country which no minister of State could
have surpassed.
His friends may sometimes have wished that he had more fully
recognised the worth of sentiment as a motive power in politics, that
he had more frequently tried to persuade as well as to convince, that
he had given more credit for partial instalments of honest service and
for a virtue less than perfect, that he had dealt more leniently with
the faults of the good and the follies of the wise. Defects in these
respects were the almost inevitable defects of his admirable
qualities, of his passion for truth, his hatred of wrong and
injustice, his clear vision, his indomitable spirit.
The lesson of his editorial career is a lesson not for America only.
Among the dangers that beset democratic communities, none are greater
than the efforts of wealth to control, not only electors and
legislators, but also the organs of public opinion, and the
disposition of statesmen and journalists to defer to and flatter the
majority, adopting the sentiment dominant at the moment, and telling
the people that its voice is the voice of God. Mr. Godkin was not
only inaccessible to the lures of wealth--the same may happily be
still said of many of his craft-brethren--he was just as little
accessible to the fear of popular displeasure. Nothing more incensed
him than to see a statesman or an editor with his "ear to the ground"
(to use an American phrase), seeking to catch the sound of the coming
crowd. To him, the less popular a view was, so much the more did it
need to be well weighed and, if approved, to be strenuously and
incessantly preached. Democracies will always have demagogues ready to
feed their vanity and stir their passions and exaggerate the feeling
of the moment. What they need is men who will swim against the stream,
will tell them their faults, will urge an argument all the more
forcibly because it is unwelcome. Such an one was Edwin Godkin. Since
the death of Abraham Lincoln, America has been generally more
influenced by her writers, preachers, and thinkers than by her
statesmen. In the list of those who have during the last forty years
influenced her for good and helped by their pens to make her history,
a list illustrated by such names as those of R. W. Emerson and
Phillips Brooks and James Russell Lowell, his name will find its place
and receive its well-earned meed of honour.
-----
[58] The Tammany leaders had him repeatedly arrested, usually on
Sunday mornings (that being the day on which it was least easy
to find bail) for alleged criminal libels upon them. These
prosecutions, threatened in the hope of intimidating him, never
went further.
[59] A Mugwump is in the Algonquin tongue an aged chief or wise man,
and the name was meant to ridicule the _ex cathedra_ manner
ascribed to the _Evening Post_.
LORD ACTON