CHAPTER VIII.

Return Home.--A Passage from the Edinburgh Review, apologetical of

American Federalism.--Speculation on the Subject.--Little Reward

of Democracy in the United States.--The Higher Classes contending

for the Purse.--Consequence of this Policy.--Declaration of an

American Reviewer with regard to American Poets--their Reward in

Europe.--Falling asleep.--The Nightmare.

“The earth has bubbles as the water has,

And these are of them.”

_Macbeth_, Act i. Scene 3.

On my return home, I found it impossible for me to go to sleep. The

events of the day were yet fresh upon my mind, and I required some

abstraction to set my thoughts to rest, and efface the disagreeable

impressions produced by the conversation of the stranger. Undetermined

as to the means of escaping from my own reflections, I searched the

books and papers on my writing-table; where, unfortunately for my

quiet, I happened to glance my eye on an American republication of

the “Edinburgh Review,” and a few scattered numbers of the “Southern

Literary Messenger.” I mechanically opened the first, and, as

misfortune would have it, found my attention at once riveted by the

following passage:--

“Purge the British constitution of its corruptions,” said Adams, “and

give to the popular branch equality of representation, and it would be

the most perfect institution ever devised by the wit of man.”

“Purge it of its corruptions,” replied Hamilton, “and it would become

an _impracticable_ government: as it stands at present, with all its

supposed defects, it is the most perfect government that ever existed.”

These remarks, I thought, proceeding from the two saints by which the

American Whigs still swear on solemn occasions, prove at least Hamilton

to have been the abler statesman, though they are both clearly

indicative of the spirit which pervaded some of the leading patriots of

the revolution.

Anxious to learn the opinion of a British writer on so interesting a

subject, I read on, and was struck with the following good-natured

apology for the doctrines and sentiments of the old Federalists.

“The leaning of the Federalists towards monarchy and aristocracy,” says

the reviewer, “has probably at all times been a good deal exaggerated

by their antagonists. That there is, at the present time, hardly any

such feeling, may be easily admitted; and it has probably been wearing

out by degrees ever since the revolution, in proportion as men saw

that realised without a struggle (!), which many in America, and still

more in England, had deemed impossible,--the firm establishment of a

republican government over many millions of people, with sufficient

power to preserve order at home, and sufficient energy to maintain the

relations of peace and war. _But, at the first, no reasonable doubt

can be entertained of the fondness for monarchical institutions which

prevailed among the leading Federalists.”_

The perusal of this passage, after a day spent, as I have described,

in the city of New York, naturally gave rise to singular reflections.

“What is it,” said I to myself, “that the Americans have established

without a struggle? And wherein consists the stability of their

republican institutions, if it be not in the fact that the people from

year to year conquer them anew from the wealthy opposition? And, as

regards the predilection for monarchical and aristocratic institutions,

who that has observed the higher classes of Americans, at home or

abroad, can doubt but that they are at this moment as strong as at the

time of Thomas Jefferson?”

The old Federalists have not given up _one_ of their former

pretensions,--for there is no converting men in politics by argument;

but they are probably satisfied that they must _wait for a favourable

opportunity_ of establishing them: they have become more cautious in

their actions and expressions, because they now _fear_ the people

over whom they once expected to rule. All that I have been able to see

in the United States convinces me that the wealthy classes are in no

other country as much opposed to the existing government; and that,

consequently, no other government can be considered as less permanently

established, or more liable to changes, than that of the United States.

And this state of danger the soft speeches of the Whigs try to conceal

from the people by directing their attention almost exclusively to the

financial concerns of the country. Wealth, in other countries,--as, for

instance, in England,--acts as the _vis inertiæ_ of the state; talent

from above, and the wants of the labouring classes from below, acting

as motors. In America the case is the reverse: the wealthy classes

wishing for a change which the labouring ones resist; and talent, I am

sorry to say, acting a subordinate part, ready to serve the cause of

either party that promises to reward its exertions.

This, I am aware, is a sad picture of America, but nevertheless a true

one; and I appeal to the history of the last half century, and to the

biography of American statesmen, if an impartial one should ever be

written, in confirmation of the general correctness of my statement.

Exceptions to this rule exist, of course, in every State; but, without

any particular predilection in favour of democracy, it is easy to

perceive that these mostly occur on the popular side.

Whenever a man of talent or wealth embraces the cause of democracy,

he becomes at once the butt of society, and the object of the most

unrelenting persecution with all the “respectable” editors, lawyers,

bankers, and business men in the large cities. To one democratic paper

published in a city, there are generally from ten to twelve, sometimes

twenty, Federal or Whig journals; which I take for the best possible

proof that talent loves to be rewarded, and in republics, as well as in

monarchies, naturally serves those who are best _able_ to reward it.

The democrats have not the means of remunerating the services of

their public men in the manner of the Whigs; for, with the exception

of a few government offices, with mere pittances for salaries, and

the election of senators and members of Congress,--persons “hired at

the rate of eight dollars a day,”--all lucrative offices of trust

and emolument are in the gift of the opposition, whose patronage,

therefore, is a matter of infinitely higher consideration than that of

the President and his cabinet.

The little pecuniary reward which the zealots and champions of

democracy meet with in the United States, is, indeed, one of the

reasons for which they are despised by their aristocratic opponents.

“What talents,” argue the latter, “can a man possess who will give up

all manner of business, and devote himself exclusively to politics,

in order, near the close of his life, to sit down contented with the

editorship of a penny paper, a membership of Congress, or an office of

from twelve hundred to two thousand dollars a year? Success in life is

the best proof of ability; and who that will look upon the respective

condition of our political partisans can for one moment be doubtful as

to which of them have the _best side_ of the question?”

It is for such and similar reasons that they take every opportunity

of railing against the increased patronage of the government; as if

the government of the United States were something apart from the

people,--a power which the people have to contend with, and against

which, therefore, they must direct their concentrated efforts! And a

considerable portion of the people are actually duped in that way; they

imagine that what is taken away from the government is gained by the

community, forgetting that the government is of their own choice, and

that the men placed at the head of it rise or fall at their beck. They

do not seem to be aware that, as long as the government of the United

States remains elective, all executive power vested in it increases but

the sovereignty of the people, and that the patronage of the government

is essentially their own.

On the subject of patronage the aristocratic press of America is truly

eloquent; that being the point for which it most contends, the lever of

its patriotism. What, indeed, would become of the flower of statesmen

of the present Whig party, if the government of the country, or the

people who elect that government, could reward the advocacy of their

cause as princely as the “wealthy and enlightened” opposition?--if

_money_ were at the command of the public servants, as it is at the

disposal of those who manage the great financial concerns of the

country? Hence the people are warned against putting the sword and the

purse into the same hands. “Let the government have the sword,” say the

Whigs, “provided we keep the purse.”

The purse is the point round which the whole system of politics turned

ever since the origin of the country. The war for and against a bank

did, indeed, agitate the United States before they were quite ushered

into existence; and has continued to throw the elements of state into

confusion, and to act in a truly corrosive manner on every true source

of national grandeur. What effect it had on the progress of literature

and the arts is exultingly shown in an article of “The Southern

Literary Messenger;” a copy of which, as I observed before, I found by

accident on my writing-table.

“The intellectual character of our republic,” says a writer in that

clever periodical, in a paper bearing the title “Scriptural Anthology,”

“makes rapid advances in improvement. A very few years ago it was

seriously argued whether or not the air of America was favourable to

the inspirations of genius; now our artists, actors, and poets bid fair

to take the lead of their European rivals. If the former fall short in

anything,

‘We ought to blame the culture, not the soil.’

It is now conceded on all sides that we have the stamina, or, (to

speak in a business-like tone,) the _raw material_ of the first

quality. No doubt but we have had Homers in embryo, many a ‘mute

inglorious Milton,’ and many a Tasso, ‘cabined, cribbed, and confined’

by oppressive circumstances. But in spite of all those proverbial

obstacles, to most of which the _American_ bard[14] is particularly

liable, a poetical star sometimes gleams above our horizon. Such

instances, it must be confessed, are rare; and in what part of the

world is the advent of a good poet _not_ a rare occurrence? With us

but little encouragement is offered for any man to devote his time and

talents to this branch of literature; and, without exclusive devotion,

we are apt to suppose that excellence in any art or science is but

seldom attained. But, with respect to encouragement, matters are

beginning to take a change for the better;--in our literary world the

golden age has been delayed to the last: poetical speculations, albeit

of an airy and immaterial nature, now yield something substantial in

the way of profit. Poets begin to have ‘a local habitation,’ not in

the gaol or garret; and ‘a name,’ not synonymous with starvation.

From being objects of cool regard or warm persecution, they have

become quite the lions of the day; _they visit foreign countries,

associate with the nobility, and drink tea_ (or _punch_) _in the serene

presence_ _of the royal family_. _Even_ at home, the study (!) of

poetry has almost dared to compete with the absorbing calculations of

compound interest; and many a clerk is ‘condemned to cross his father’s

spirit,’ as Chaucer saith, by penning a stanza ‘when he should make out

a bill.’”

This sort of reasoning, in which I am half inclined to believe the

author was serious, together with the fact that the principal poets

of America are really obliged to seek “a local habitation and a name”

in _Europe_, may be considered as the best proof of the all-absorbing

influence of the purse;--an influence which already acts restrictively

on genius and talent of the highest order, and will, if it be not

counteracted by a more generous system of legislation, and a different

spirit diffused _among the people_, constantly absorb the main sources

of thought and action, which give to every nation its individual life

and character.

But I trust that the good sense of the people, the intelligence

pervading the masses, and, above all, the high degree of morality and

virtue which distinguishes the American above all other nations in the

world, will be proof against the temptations of a handful of political

sceptics; and that the country, blessed with Nature’s richest gifts,

and selected by Providence for the noblest experiment tried by man,

will fulfil its mission,--which is not only the civilization of a new

world, but the practical establishment of principles which heretofore

have only had an ideal existence.

Thus cogitating, I pulled my night-cap over my head, put out the

candle, and fell fast asleep. Agitated as I had been during the whole

day, my sleep could not remain undisturbed by dreams. I imagined

myself somewhere near the Hudson or the Delaware, in the midst of a

large, flourishing city, besieged, stormed, and finally carried by a

victorious Western army, whose gallant leader dictated laws written in

blood to the affrighted populace. A deputation of “leading citizens,”

who had come to offer their riches as a ransom for their lives, he thus

apostrophized in a stern and solemn voice:--“Fools that ye were to wish

for artificial distinctions! Know that the origin of every aristocracy

is the sword, not the purse, or the Jews would long ago have become the

masters of the world! You have claimed the purse for yourself, and now

the sword shall take it!”

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

LONDON:

PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY,

Bangor House, Shoe Lane.

FOOTNOTES:

[14] The word “American” is in Italics in the original.

Transcriber’s Notes

Errors in punctuation have been fixed.

In the Table of Contents, “Stephen Girard” changed to “Stephen Gerard”

Page 22: “shores of the Monongahila” changed to “shores of the

Monongahela”

Page 146: “go shoping” changed to “go shopping”

Page 228: “eve the English” changed to “even the English”

Aristocracy in America. From the sketch-book of a German nobleman. vol. 1 (of 2) · 第 8 / 8 章