CHAPTER VII.

"I will tell you;

If you'll bestow a small (of what you have little),

Patience, a while, you'll hear the belly's answer."

--_Menenius Agrippa._

At the springs we parted, Mr. Warren and his friends finding a

conveyance, with their own horses, in readiness to carry them the

remainder of the distance. As for my uncle and myself, it was understood

that we were to get on in the best manner we could, it being expected

that we should reach Ravensnest in the course of a day or two. According

to the theory of our new business, we ought to travel on foot, but we

had a reservation _in petto_ that promised us also the relief of a

comfortable wagon of some sort or other.

"Well," said my uncle, the moment we had got far enough from our new

acquaintance to be out of ear-shot, "I must say one thing in behalf of

Mr. Seneky, as he calls himself, or Sen, as his elegant sister calls

him, and that is, that I believe him to be one of the biggest scoundrels

the State holds."

"This is not drawing his character _en beau_," I answered, laughing.

"But why do you come out so decidedly upon him at this particular

moment?"

"Because this particular moment happens to be the first in which I have

had an opportunity to say anything since I have known the rascal. You

must have remarked that the fellow held me in discourse from the time we

left Troy until we stopped here."

"Certainly; I could see that his tongue was in motion unceasingly; what

he said, I have to conjecture."

"He said enough to lay bare his whole character. Our subject was

anti-rent, which he commenced with a view to explain it to a foreigner;

but I managed to lead him on, step by step, until he let me into all his

notions and expectations on the subject. Why, Hugh, the villain actually

proposed that you and I should enlist, and turn ourselves into two of

the rascally mock redskins."

"Enlist! Do they still persevere so far as to keep up that organization,

in the very teeth of the late law?"

"The law! What do two or three thousand voters care for any penal law,

in a country like this? Who is to enforce the law against them? Did they

commit murder, and were they even convicted, as _might_ happen under the

excitement of such a crime, they very well know nobody would be hanged.

Honesty is always too passive in matters that do not immediately press

on its direct interests. It is for the interest of every honest man in

the State to set his face against this anti-rent movement, and to do all

he can, by his vote and influence, to put it down into the dirt, out of

which it sprang, and into which it should be crushed; but not one in a

hundred, even of those who condemn it _toto coelo_, will go a foot out

of their way even to impede its progress. All depends on those who have

the power; and they will exert that power so as to conciliate the active

rogue, rather than protect the honest man. You are to remember that the

laws are executed here on the principle that 'what is everybody's

business is nobody's business.'"

"You surely do not believe that the authorities will wink at an open

violation of the laws!"

"That will depend on the characters of individuals; most will, but some

will not. You and I would be punished soon enough, were there a chance,

but the mass would escape. Oh! we have had some precious disclosures in

our corner of the car! The two or three men who joined Newcome are from

anti-rent districts, and, seeing me with their friend, little reserve

has been practised. One of those men is an anti-rent lecturer; and,

being somewhat didactic, he favored me with some of his arguments,

_seriatim_."

"How! Have they got to lectures? I should have supposed the newspapers

would have been the means of circulating their ideas."

"Oh, the newspapers, like hogs swimming too freely, have cut their own

throats; and it seems to be fashionable, just at this moment, not to

believe them. Lecturing is the great moral lever of the nation at

present."

"But a man can lie in a lecture, as well as in a newspaper."

"Out of all question; and if many of the lecturers are of the school of

this Mr. Holmes--'Lecturer Holmes,' as Seneca called him--but, if many

are of _his_ school, a pretty set of liberty-takers with the truth must

they be."

"You detected him, then, in some of these liberties?"

"In a hundred: nothing was easier than for a man in my situation to do

that; knowing, as I did, so much of the history of the land-titles of

the State. One of his arguments partakes so largely of the weak side of

our system, that I must give it to you. He spoke of the gravity of the

disturbances--of the importance to the peace and character of the State

of putting an end to them; and then, by way of corollary to his

proposition, produced a scheme for changing the titles, IN ORDER TO

SATISFY THE PEOPLE!"

"The people, of course, meaning the tenants; the landlords and _their_

rights passing for nothing."

"That is one beautiful feature of the morality--an eye, or a cheek, if

you will--but here is the _nose_, and highly Roman it is. A certain

portion of the community wish to get rid of the obligations of their

contracts; and finding it cannot be done by law, they resort to means

that are opposed to all law in order to effect their purposes. Public

law-breakers, violators of the public peace, they make use of their own

wrong as an argument for perpetuating another that can be perpetuated in

no other way. I have been looking over some of the papers containing

proclamations, etc., and find that both law-makers and law-breakers are

of one mind as to this charming policy. Without a single manly effort to

put down the atrocious wrong that is meditated, the existence of the

wrong itself is made an argument for meeting it with concessions, and

thus sustaining it. Instead of using the means the institutions have

provided for putting down all such unjust and illegal combinations, the

combinations are a sufficient reason of themselves why the laws should

be altered, and wrong be done to a few, in order that many may be

propitiated, and their votes secured."

"This is reasoning that can be used only where real grievances exist.

But there are no real grievances in the case of the tenants. They may

mystify weak heads in the instance of the manor leases, with their

quarter-sales, fat hens, loads of wood, and days' works; but my leases

are all on three lives, with rent payable in money, and with none of the

conditions that are called feudal, though no more feudal than any other

bargain to pay articles in kind. One might just as well call a bargain

made by a butcher, to deliver pork for a series of years, feudal.

However, feudal or not, my leases, and those of most other landlords,

are running on lives; and yet, by what I can learn, the discontent is

general; and the men who have solemnly bargained to give up their farms

at the expiration of their lives are just as warm for the 'down rent'

and titles in fee as the manor tenants themselves! They say that the

obligations given for actual purchases are beginning to be discredited."

"You are quite right; and there is one of the frauds practised on the

world at large. In the public documents only the manor leases, with

their pretended feudal covenants, and their perpetuity, are kept in

view, while the combination goes to _all_ leases, or nearly all, and

certainly to all _sorts_ of leases, where the estates are of sufficient

extent to allow of the tenants to make head against the landlords. I

dare say there are hundreds of tenants, even on the property of the

Rensselaers, who are honest enough to be willing to comply with their

contracts if the conspirators would let them; but the rapacious spirit

is abroad among the occupants of other lands, as well as among the

occupants of theirs, and the government considers its existence a proof

that concessions should be made. The discontented must be appeased,

right or not!"

"Did Seneca say anything on the subject of his own interests?"

"He did; not so much in conversation with me as in the discourse he held

with 'Lecturer Holmes.' I listened attentively, happening to be

familiar, through tradition and through personal knowledge, with all the

leading facts of the case. As you will soon be called on to act in that

matter for yourself, I may as well relate them to you. They will serve,

also, as guides to the moral merits of the occupation of half the farms

on your estate. These are things, moreover, you would never know by

public statements, since all the good bargains are smothered in silence,

while those that may possibly have been a little unfavorable to the

tenant are proclaimed far and near. It is quite possible that, among the

many thousands of leased farms that are to be found in the State, some

bad bargains may have been made by the tenants; but what sort of a

government is that which should undertake to redress evils of this

nature? If either of the Rensselaers, or you yourself, were to venture

to send a memorial to the Legislature setting forth the grievances _you_

labor under in connection with this very 'mill-lot'--and serious losses

do they bring to you, let me tell you, though grievances, in the proper

sense of the term, they are not--you and your memorial would be met with

a general and merited shout of ridicule and derision. _One_ man has no

rights, as opposed to a dozen."

"So much difference is there between '_de la Rochefoucauld et de la

Rochefoucauld_.'"

"All the difference in the world; but let me give you the facts, for

they will serve as a rule by which to judge of many others. In the first

place, my great-grandfather Mordaunt, the 'patentee,' as he was called,

first let the mill-lot to the grandfather of this Seneca, the tenant

then being quite a young man. In order to obtain settlers, in that early

day, it was necessary to give them great advantages, for there was

vastly more land than there were people to work it. The first lease,

therefore, was granted on highly advantageous terms to that Jason

Newcome, whom I can just remember. He had two characters; the one, and

the true, which set him down as a covetous, envious, narrow-minded

provincial, who was full of cant and roguery. Some traditions exist

among us of his having been detected in stealing timber, and in various

other frauds. In public he is one of those virtuous and hard-working

pioneers who have transmitted to their descendants all their claims,

those that are supposed to be moral, as well as those that are known to

be legal. This flummery may do for elderly ladies, who affect snuff and

bohea, and for some men who have minds of the same calibre, but they are

not circumstances to influence such legislators and executives as are

fit to be legislators and executives. Not a great while before my

father's marriage, the said Jason still living and in possession, the

lease expired, and a new one was granted for three lives, or twenty-one

years certain, of which one of the lives is still running. That lease

was granted, on terms highly favorable to the tenant, sixty years since;

old Newcome, luckily for himself and his posterity, having named this

long-lived son as one of his three lives. Now Seneky, God bless him! is

known to lease a few of the lots that have fallen to his share of the

property for more money than is required to meet all your rent on the

whole. Such, in effect, has been the fact with that mill-lot for the

last thirty years, or even longer; and the circumstance of the great

length of time so excellent a bargain has existed, is used as an

argument why the Newcomes ought to have a deed of the property for a

nominal price; or, indeed, for no price at all, if the tenants could

have their wishes."

"I am afraid there is nothing unnatural in thus perverting principles;

half mankind appear to me really to get a great many of their notions

_dessus dessous_."

"Half is a small proportion; as you will find, my boy, when you grow

older. But was it not an impudent proposal of Seneca, when he wished you

and me to join the corps of 'Injins?'"

"What answer did you make? Though I suppose it would hardly do for us to

go disguised and armed, now that the law makes it a felony, even while

our motive at the bottom might be to aid the law."

"Catch me at that act of folly! Why, Hugh, could they prove such a crime

on either of _us_, or any one connected with an old landed family, we

should be the certain victims. No governor would dare pardon _us_. No,

no; clemency is a word reserved for the obvious and confirmed rogues."

"We might get a little favor on the score of belonging to a very

powerful body of offenders."

"True, I forgot that circumstance. The more numerous the crimes and the

criminals, the greater the probability of impunity; and this, too, not

on the general principle that power cannot be resisted, but on the

particular principle that a thousand or two votes are of vast

importance, where three thousand can turn an election. God only knows

where this thing is to end!"

We now approached one of the humbler taverns of the place, where it was

necessary for those of our apparent pretensions to seek lodgings, and

the discourse was dropped. It was several weeks too early in the season

for the springs to be frequented, and we found only a few of those in

the place who drank the waters because they really required them. My

uncle had been an old stager at Saratoga--a beau of the "purest water,"

as he laughingly described himself--and he was enabled to explain all

that was necessary for me to know. An American watering-place, however,

is so very much inferior to most of those in Europe, as to furnish very

little, in their best moments, beyond the human beings they contain, to

attract the attention of the traveller.

In the course of the afternoon we availed ourselves of the opportunity

of a return vehicle to go as far as Sandy Hill, where we passed the

night. The next morning, bright and early, we got into a hired wagon and

drove across the country until near night, when we paid for our passage,

sent the vehicle back, and sought a tavern. At this house, where we

passed the night, we heard a good deal of the "Injins" having made their

appearance on the Littlepage lands, and many conjectures as to the

probable result. We were in a township, or rather on a property, that

was called Mooseridge, and which had once belonged to us, but which,

having been sold, and in a great measure paid for by the occupants, no

one thought of impairing the force of the covenants under which the

parties held. The most trivial observer will soon discover that it is

only when something is to be gained that the aggrieved citizen wishes to

disturb a covenant. Now, I never heard anyone say a syllable against

either of the covenants of his lease under which he held his farm, let

him be ever so loud against those which would shortly compel him to give

it up! Had I complained of the fact--and such facts abounded--that my

predecessors had incautiously let farms at such low prices that the

lessees had been enabled to pay the rents for half a century by

subletting small portions of them, as my uncle Ro had intimated, I

should be pointed at as a fool. "Stick to your bond" would have been the

cry, and "Shylock" would have been forgotten. I do not say that there is

not a vast difference between the means of acquiring intelligence, the

cultivation, the manners, the social conditions, and, in some

senses, the social obligations of an affluent landlord and a

really hard-working, honest, well-intentioned husbandman, his

tenant--differences that should dispose the liberal and cultivated

gentleman to bear in mind the advantages he has perhaps inherited, and

not acquired by his own means, in such a way as to render him, in a

certain degree, the repository of the interests of those who hold him;

but, while I admit all this, and say that the community which does not

possess such a class of men is to be pitied, as it loses one of the most

certain means of liberalizing and enlarging its notions, and of

improving its civilization, I am far from thinking that the men of this

class are to have their real superiority of position, with its

consequences, thrown into their faces only when they are expected to

give, while they are grudgingly denied it on all other occasions! There

is nothing so likely to advance the habits, opinions, and true interests

of a rural population, as to have them all directed by the intelligence

and combined interests that ought to mark the connection between

landlord and tenant. It may do for one class of political economists to

prate about a state of things which supposes every husbandman a

freeholder, and rich enough to maintain his level among the other

freeholders of the State. But we all know that as many minute gradations

in means must and do exist in a community, as there exist gradations in

characters. A majority soon will, in the nature of things, be below the

level of the freeholder, and by destroying the system of having

landlords and tenants two great evils are created--the one preventing

men of large fortunes from investing in lands, as no man will place his

money where it will be insecure or profitless, thereby cutting off real

estate generally from the benefits that might be and would be conferred

by their capital, as well as cutting it off from the benefits of the

increased price which arise from having such buyers in the market; and

the other is, to prevent any man from being a husbandman who has not the

money necessary to purchase a farm. But they who want farms _now_, and

they who will want votes next November, do not look quite so far ahead

as that; while shouting "equal rights," they are, in fact, for

preventing the poor husbandman from being anything but a day-laborer.

We obtained tolerably decent lodging at our inn, though the profoundest

patriot America possesses, if he know anything of other countries, or of

the best materials of his own, cannot say much in favor of the sleeping

arrangements of an ordinary country inn. The same money and the same

trouble would render that which is now the very _beau ideal_ of

discomfort, at least tolerable, and in many instances good. But who is

to produce this reform? According to the opinions circulated among us,

the humblest hamlet we have has already attained the highest point of

civilization; and as for the people, without distinction of classes, it

is universally admitted that they are the best educated, the acutest,

and the most intelligent in Christendom;--no, I must correct myself;

they are all this, except when they are in the act of leasing lands, and

then the innocent and illiterate husbandmen are the victims of the arts

of designing landlords, the wretches![21]

[Footnote 21: Mr. Hugh Littlepage writes a little sharply, but there is

truth in all he says, at the bottom. His tone is probably produced by

the fact that there is so serious an attempt to deprive him of his old

paternal estate, an attempt which is receiving support in high quarters.

In addition to this provocation, the Littlepages, as the manuscript

shows farther on, are traduced, as one means of effecting the objects of

the anti-renters; no man, in any community in which it is necessary to

work on public sentiment in order to accomplish such a purpose, ever

being wronged without being calumniated. As respects the inns, truth

compels me, as an old traveller, to say that Mr. Littlepage has much

reason for what he says. I have met with a better bed in the lowest

French tavern I ever was compelled to use, and in one instance I slept

in an inn frequented by carters, than in the best purely country inn in

America. In the way of neatness, however, more is usually to be found in

our New York village taverns than in the public hotels of Paris itself.

As for the hit touching the intelligence of the people, it is merited;

for I have myself heard subtle distinctions drawn to show that the

"people" of a former generation were not as knowing as the "people" of

this, and imputing the covenants of the older leases to that

circumstance, instead of imputing them to their true cause, the opinions

and practices of the times. Half a century's experience would induce me

to say that the "people" were never particularly dull in making a

bargain.--EDITOR.]

We passed an hour on the piazza, after eating our supper, and there

being a collection of men assembled there, inhabitants of the hamlet, we

had an opportunity to get into communication with them. My uncle sold a

watch, and I played on the hurdy-gurdy, by way of making myself popular.

After this beginning, the discourse turned on the engrossing subject of

the day, anti-rentism. The principal speaker was a young man about

six-and-twenty, of a sort of shabby-genteel air and appearance, whom I

soon discovered to be the attorney of the neighborhood. His name was

Hubbard, while that of the other principal speaker was Hall. The last

was a mechanic, as I ascertained, and was a plain-looking working-man of

middle age. Each of these persons seated himself on a common "kitchen

chair," leaning back against the side of the house, and, of course,

resting on the two hind-legs of the rickety support, while he placed his

own feet on the rounds in front. The attitudes were neither graceful nor

picturesque, but they were so entirely common as to excite no surprise.

As for Hall, he appeared perfectly contented with his situation, after

fidgeting a little to get the two supporting legs of his chair just

where he wanted them; but Hubbard's eye was restless, uneasy, and even

menacing, for more than a minute. He drew a knife from his pocket--a

small, neat penknife only, it is true--gazed a little wildly about him,

and just as I thought he intended to abandon his nicely poised chair,

and to make an assault on one of the pillars that upheld the roof of the

piazza, the innkeeper advanced, holding in his hand several narrow slips

of pine board, one of which he offered at once to 'Squire Hubbard. This

relieved the attorney, who took the wood, and was soon deeply plunged

in, to me, the unknown delights of whittling. I cannot explain the

mysterious pleasure that so many find in whittling, though the

prevalence of the custom is so well known. But I cannot explain the

pleasure so many find in chewing tobacco, or in smoking. The precaution

of the landlord was far from being unnecessary, and appeared to be taken

in good part by all to whom he offered "whittling-pieces," some six or

eight in the whole. The state of the piazza, indeed, proved that the

precaution was absolutely indispensable, if he did not wish to see the

house come tumbling down about his head. In order that those who have

never seen such things may understand their use, I will go a little out

of the way to explain.

The inn was of wood, a hemlock frame with a "siding" of clapboards. In

this there was nothing remarkable, many countries of Europe, even, still

building principally of wood. Houses of lath and plaster were quite

common, until within a few years, even in large towns. I remember to

have seen some of these constructions while in London, in close

connection with the justly celebrated Westminster Hall; and of such

materials is the much-talked of miniature castle of Horace Walpole, at

Strawberry Hill. But the inn of Mooseridge had some pretensions to

architecture, besides being three or four times larger than any other

house in the place. A piazza it enjoyed, of course; it must be a pitiful

village inn that does not; and building, accessories and all, rejoiced

in several coats of a spurious white lead. The columns of this piazza,

as well as the clapboards of the house itself, however, exhibited the

proofs of the danger of abandoning your true whittler to his own

instincts. Spread-eagles, five-points, American flags, huzzas for Polk!

the initials of names, and names at full length, with various other

similar conceits, records, and ebullitions of patriotic or party-otic

feelings, were scattered up and down with an affluence that said volumes

in favor of the mint in which they had been coined. But the most

remarkable memorial of the industry of the guests was to be found on one

of the columns; and it was one at a corner, too, and consequently of

double importance to the superstructure--unless, indeed, the house were

built on that well-known principle of American architecture of the last

century, which made the architrave uphold the pillar, instead of the

pillar the architrave. The column in question was of white pine, as

usual--though latterly, in brick edifices, bricks and stucco are much

resorted to--and, at a convenient height for the whittlers, it was

literally cut two-thirds in two. The gash was very neatly made--that

much must be said for it--indicating skill and attention; and the

surfaces of the wound were smoothed in a manner to prove that

appearances were not neglected.

"Vat do das?" I asked of the landlord, pointing to this gaping wound in

the main column of his piazza.

"That! Oh! That's only the whittlers," answered the host, with a

good-natured smile.

Assuredly the Americans _are_ the best-natured people on earth! Here was

a man whose house was nearly tumbling down about his ears--always bating

the principle in architecture just named--and he could smile as Nero may

be supposed to have done when fiddling over the conflagration of Rome.

"But vhy might de vhittler vhittle down your house?"

"Oh! this is a free country, you know, and folks do pretty much as they

like in it," returned the still smiling host. "I let 'em cut away as

long as I dared, but it was high time to get out 'whittling-pieces,' I

believe you must own. It's best always to keep a ruff (roof) over a

man's head, to be ready for bad weather. A week longer would have had

the column in two."

"Vell, I dinks I might not bear dat! Vhat ist mein house ist mein house,

ant dey shall not so moch vittles."

"By letting 'em so much vittles there, they so much vittles in the

kitchen; so you see there is policy in having your underpinnin' knocked

away sometimes, if it's done by the right sort of folks."

"You're a stranger in these parts, friend?" observed Hubbard,

complacently, for by this time his "whittling-piece" was reduced to a

shape, and he could go on reducing it, according to some law of the art

of whittling with which I am not acquainted. "We are not so particular

in such matters as in some of your countries in the old world."

"Ja--das I can see. But does not woot ant column cost money in America,

someding?"

"To be sure it does. There is not a man in the country who would

undertake to replace that pillar with a new one, paint and all, for less

than ten dollars."

This was an opening for a discussion on the probable cost of putting a

new pillar into the place of the one that was injured. Opinions

differed, and quite a dozen spoke on the subject; some placing the

expense as high as fifteen dollars, and others bringing it down as low

as five. I was struck with the quiet and self-possession with which each

man delivered his opinion, as well as with the language used. The accent

was uniformly provincial, that of Hubbard included, having a strong and

unpleasant taint of the dialect of New England in it; and some of the

expressions savored a little of the stilts of the newspapers; but, on

the whole, the language was sufficiently accurate and surprisingly good,

considering the class in life of the speakers. The conjectures, too,

manifested great shrewdness and familiarity with practical things, as

well as, in a few instances, some reading. Hall, however, actually

surprised me. He spoke with a precision and knowledge of mechanics that

would have done credit to a scholar, and with a simplicity that added to

the influence of what he said. Some casual remark induced me to put

in--"Vell, I might s'pose an Injin voult cut so das column, but I might

not s'pose a vhite man could." This opinion gave the discourse a

direction toward anti-rentism, and in a few minutes it caught all the

attention of my uncle Ro and myself.

"This business is going ahead after all!" observed Hubbard, evasively,

after others had had their say.

"More's the pity," put in Hall. "It might have been put an end to in a

month, at any time, and ought to be put an end to in a civilized land."

"You will own, neighbor Hall, notwithstanding, it would be a great

improvement in the condition of the tenants all over the State, could

they change their tenures into freeholds."

"No doubt 'twould; and so it would be a great improvement in the

condition of my journeyman in my shop if he could get to be the boss.

But that is not the question here; the question is, What right has the

State to say any man shall sell his property unless he wishes to sell

it? A pretty sort of liberty we should have if we all held our houses

and gardens under such laws as that supposes!"

"But do we not all hold our houses and gardens, and farms, too, by some

such law?" rejoined the attorney, who evidently respected his

antagonist, and advanced his own opinions cautiously. "If the public

wants land to use, it can take it by paying for it."

"Yes, to _use_; but use is everything. I've read that old report of the

committee of the house, and don't subscribe to its doctrines at all.

Public 'policy,' in that sense, doesn't at all mean public 'use.' If

land is wanted for a road, or a fort, or a canal, it must be taken,

under a law, by appraisement, or the thing could not be had at all; but

to pretend, because one side to a contract wishes to alter it, that the

State has a right to interfere, on the ground that the discontented can

be bought off in this way easier and cheaper than they can be made to

obey the laws, is but a poor way of supporting the right. The same

principle, carried out, might prove it would be easier to buy off

pickpockets by compromising than to punish them. Or it would be easy to

get round all sorts of contracts in this way."

"But all governments use this power when it becomes necessary, neighbor

Hall."

"That word _necessary_ covers a great deal of ground, 'Squire Hubbard.

The most that can be made of the necessity here is to say it is cheaper,

and may help along parties to their objects better. No man doubts that

the State of New York can put down these anti-renters; and, I trust,

_will_ put them down so far as force is concerned. There is, then, no

other necessity in the case, to begin with, than the necessity which

demagogues always feel, of getting as many votes as they can."

"After all, neighbor Hall, these votes are pretty powerful weapons in a

popular government."

"I'll not deny that; and now they talk of a convention to alter the

constitution, it is a favorable moment to teach such managers they shall

not abuse the right of suffrage in this way."

"How is it to be prevented? You are a universal suffrage man, I know?"

"Yes, I'm for universal suffrage among honest folks; but do not wish to

have my rulers chosen by them that are never satisfied without having

their hands in their neighbors' pockets. Let 'em put a clause into the

constitution providing that no town, or village, or county, shall hold a

poll within a given time after the execution of process has been openly

resisted in it. That would take the conceit out of all such law-breakers

in very short order."

It was plain that this idea struck the listeners, and several even

avowed their approbation of the scheme aloud. Hubbard received it as a

new thought, but was more reluctant to admit its practicability. As

might be expected from a lawyer accustomed to practice in a small way,

his objections savored more of narrow views than of the notions of a

statesman.

"How would you determine the extent of the district to be

disfranchised?" he asked.

"Take the legal limits as they stand. If process be resisted openly by a

combination strong enough to look down the agents of the law in a town,

disfranchise that town for a given period; if in more than one town,

disfranchise the offending towns; if a county, disfranchise the whole

county."

"But in that way you would punish the innocent with the guilty."

"It would be for the good of all; besides, you punish the innocent for

the guilty, or _with_ the guilty rather, in a thousand ways. You and I

are taxed to keep drunkards from starving, because it is better to do

that than to offend humanity by seeing men die of hunger, or tempting

them to steal. When you declare martial law you punish the innocent with

the guilty, in one sense; and so you do in a hundred cases. All we have

to ask is, if it be not wiser and better to disarm demagogues, and those

disturbers of the public peace who wish to pervert their right of

suffrage to so wicked an end, by so simple a process, than to suffer

them to effect their purposes by the most flagrant abuse of their

political privileges?"

"How would you determine _when_ a town should lose the right of voting?"

"By evidence given in open court. The judges would be the proper

authority to decide in such a case; and they would decide, beyond all

question, nineteen times in twenty, right. It is the interest of every

man who is desirous of exercising the suffrage on right principles, to

give him some such protection against them that wish to exercise the

suffrage on wrong. A peace-officer can call on the _posse comitatus_ or

on the people to aid him; if enough appear to put down the rebels, well

and good; but if enough do not appear, let it be taken as proof that the

district is not worthy of giving the votes of freemen. They who abuse

such a liberty as man enjoys in this country are the least entitled to

our sympathies. As for the mode, that could easily be determined, as

soon as you settle the principle."

The discourse went on for an hour, neighbor Hall giving his opinions

still more at large. I listened equally with pleasure and surprise.

"These, then, after all," I said to myself, "are the real bone and sinew

of the country. There are tens of thousands of this sort of men in the

State, and why should they be domineered over, and made to submit to a

legislation and to practices that are so often without principle, by the

agents of the worst part of the community? Will the honest forever be so

passive, while the corrupt and dishonest continue so active?" On my

mentioning these notions to my uncle, he answered:

"Yes, it ever has been so, and, I fear, ever will be so. _There_ is the

curse of this country," pointing to a table covered with newspapers, the

invariable companion of an American inn of any size. "So long as men

believe what they find _there_, they can be nothing but dupes or

knaves."

"But there is good in newspapers."

"That adds to the curse. If they were nothing but lies, the world would

soon reject them; but how few are able to separate the true from the

false! Now, how few of these pages speak the truth about this very

anti-rentism! Occasionally an honest man in the corps does come out; but

where one does this, ten affect to think what they do not believe, in

order to secure votes--votes, votes, votes. In that simple word lies all

the mystery of the matter."

"Jefferson said, if he were to choose between a government without

newspapers, or newspapers without a government, he would take the last."

"Ay, Jefferson did not mean newspapers as they are now. I am old enough

to see the change that has taken place. In his day, three or four fairly

convicted lies would damn any editor; now, there are men that stand up

under a thousand. I'll tell you what, Hugh, this country is jogging on

under two of the most antagonist systems possible--Christianity and the

newspapers. The first is daily hammering into every man that he is a

miserable, frail, good-for-nothing being, while the last is eternally

proclaiming the perfection of the people and the virtues of

self-government."

"Perhaps too much stress ought not to be laid on either."

"The first is certainly true, under limitations that we all understand;

but as to the last, I will own I want more evidence than a newspaper

eulogy to believe it."

After all, my uncle Ro is sometimes mistaken; though candor compels me

to acknowledge that he is very often right.

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